The Passage of Time

It's funny how perspectives change. I remember how I used to look at the old-timers and wonder about the places they'd been and the things they'd done. Now there only a few of the dinosaurs left, with most of them having succumbed to the ravages of time.

A while back I noticed that Mitchel Schwartz from New Orleans finally folded for good. You had to give the guy credit for longevity, if nothing else. I watched him run the Razzle on Bourbon St. many years ago when that sort of thing was much more visible than it is now. During that same trip I learned what a jam auction is all about at the now-defunct Bourbon St. Sales Theatre. The show only cost me a measley five bucks... a bargain at twice the price!

These days about the only game you'll see run in the French Quarter is the tired old "Betcha I can tell you where you got them shoes!" gag. Apparently people still fall for it or else the gutter rats would quit running it. I'd love to see the Razzle or the Jam Auction or someone tossing the broad on Boubon or Royal, but I guess those days are done. Too bad, really... to me those old hustles were an important part of the Quarter, as were the people who ran them.

Speaking of old hustlers, apparently our old friend Harry Anderson has a place in the French Quarter called Sideshow. I'm not sure if Spade and Archer is still a going concern, though.

All this talk has me itching for a road trip to the Big Easy. Don't be surprised if I show up sometime soon.

Also, get a load of this idiot. He's a fish with a capital "F."