Seeing Stephen last night at HOB in New Orleans was certainly the next best thing.
We were tired (from traveling all day and getting up at the ass crack of dawn to distribute the children to the proper locations before the trip–I will let you decide who actually did that), so when we thought about dinner, I thought about 96 oz. of beer and an appetizer; the wife thought about quick dinner and coming back to the room to watch a movie…WHAT??!?
We strolled down Canal St. over through Riverwalk and then started down Decatur St. In front of a huge tour bus sat a burley truck that was covered in Rasta stickers, and in the bed sat a dude with serious dreds –and I mean serious.While getting the first 48 oz. of that beer and some calamari (yes, I was getting my way–happy anniversary), we met a local that said she was going to see Stephen Marley (Bob’s son) playing HOB.
We bounced down Decatur for an assumed non-existent dive called Coop’s, but we finally found it. A dive it was, but it was definitely the best damn dive this side of the Mississippi–not sure that is saying much since the Mississippi is only about 4 blocks from Decatur…anyway. We ended up meeting a couple from Phoenix and another couple from Biloxi. We told them about Stephen, and lo and behold we all went to get some rasta vibrations. Needless to say, we didn’t see a movie, and I think that was perfectly acceptable.