Day Six--New Orleans State Of Mind

We got up early and packed--a long and painful endeavor-- and headed downstairs--another long and painful endeavor. We loaded everything into the Subaru, which took about twenty minutes, considering that we also had to bungee a mattress to the roof of the car (long story). Then we had to get ourselves in the car. A Subaru Forester fits four people comfortably, and have five seatbelts on the off-chance that you have three small people or children sitting in the back row. We had six people, and none of us would qualify as small, especially not after a week of Louisiana cooking. Emily and Mom shared the passenger's seat, and I was sandwiched between Justin and Jimmy. It was not a fun way to travel, although we got used to it as the week progressed.

We parked at the Superdome and managed to get floor seats for the first time. I looked around the stadium. We were in one end of it. Jimmy commented that seven Superbowls had been held in the Superdome. I looked around again. We were in the end of the stadium, on the floor. We were in the endzone. We were sitting where a Superbowl-winning touchdown was made.

If that's not reason enough to go to New Orleans, I don't know what is.

The sending ceremony was really good--great music, a reprise of 'We Will Love You,' and the largest wave in the 500-year history of Lutheranism. It was awesome. Have you ever done the wave with 38,000 Lutherans? I think not. (If you don't know what the wave is, go ahead and find out.) After that, though, we pretty much just packed up and got in the RV.

We thought it would be better for the engine to just drive the Subaru over the mountains, rather than towing it, so I went with Mom in the car and we had a nice, long conversation. When we got to the campground (the same campground we stopped at before, where all the lanes are named after figures from Southern Civil War mythology), Jimmy, Emily and I headed to the bathhouse. Last time while I was waiting for everybody else to finish up in the shower, I noticed last time that there was a door next to the showers with a light on and a radio playing. I had tried the doorknob before (urged on by a combination of boredom, curiosity, and the feeling that I was in a movie and "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz was the theme song), to no avail. When we went to the bathhouse, the lights were on again and the music was still playing. I tried the handle again. It opened.

Not wanting to go in on my own, I enlisted Jimmy's help to go in with me. It was nothing but a storage shed with nobody in it. There was a radio playing--a cool, vintage radio--but that was about it. Because you can't just trespass on private property and not mess with what you find within before you go, we took a little plastic item from the shelf and put it on the curb outside, just so they'd know we'd been there. Otherwise, it's just not worth it.