Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?

We had one day to spend in New Orleans, and it rained all morning.  Once it cleared a bit, we made the most of the rest of the afternoon and walked all around the French Quarter to Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral- the kids thought that it looked just like Disneyland - New Orleans Square perhaps?  We ate an early dinner at Mr. B's Bistro where they served up traditional local fare - which translates to "the kids couldn't find anything on the menu that they wanted to order." A few ordered the Monday's special: Red Beans and Rice, drawn in by the promised "side" dishes of both cornbread and a pork chop.  They were shocked when the majority of their plate was filled with red beans.  Greg & I had no problems consuming large quantities of food however -it was amazing.  

When we realized yesterday that we were finally going to be in the right place at the right time to attend a professional athletic event, we decided to buy tickets to the Monday Night Football game between the New Orleans Saints and the New England Patriots. The town was really buzzing because of the game and by kick-off, we had the kids dressed in either black& gold or hastily purchased jerseys and totally transformed into fired-up Saint's fans.  Truth be told, it didn't seem safe to be a Patriot's fan. 

We hadn't quite realized what a huge game this really was in NOLA (New Orleans, LA), so we bought the best tickets we could and were in the very last row, literally, BUT at the 50 yard line.  It was actually really fun to be there; it was totally crazy and I am sure people thought we were crazy for having our 5 kids there.  I never saw one other kid the entire night.  There were multiple fights in the stands and the entire stadium stood and screamed for probably 90% of the game.

After an amazing stomping of the Patriots, our kids left the Superdome jubilantly chanting along with all of the rest of the crazed fans, I guess officially making us part of the Who Dat Nation.  I wasn't sure exactly what they were chanting until I looked it up.  Come to find out that we unknowlingly got a bit of local history since the use of the cheer in New Orleans dates back to the jazz and big band performers in the 1920s and 1930s, where is was a commonly used tag line for extemporaneous lyrics.  So now you doubtless know more about it than all of the inebriated people shouting it (very loudly) all night. And I do mean all night; Greg & I left the kids safely tucked into a 24/7 security-patrolled RV park and went into the French Quarter after the game to hopefully catch some good jazz.  Most of the clubs had been taken over by rock cover bands to cater to the football crowd, but we did find one cool jazz club and were able to get a little feel of traditional Bourbon Street.  It was comforting that there were police officers about every 10 feet, until I realized that there must be a reason why...