I made it to the Pilot just in time to nab a parking spot before my time expired, and then to the Hacienda, to nab a stool by the bar just in time for Happy Hour. I ordered a classic Margarita on the rocks and told my pretty bartender to double up on the tequila & triple sec.

There were a few people at the bar, enjoying their tacos and tasties, conversing alongside the gentle strum of Dave Matthews cover. It must be Mardi Gras time in the Bayou – the clientele and ambience reflected the spirited mood.

To my left, a middle-aged man on a long road trip. He stops here every time he takes the scenic trip west on I-10. He orders the same damn thing – Chicken Burrito Supreme loaded with guacamole and cream cheese. To my right, a Sailor assigned to her first ship, the USS Fitzgerald. As many of you know, the Fitzgerald was involved in a tragic collision three years ago with a container ship, resulting in the deaths of seven Sailors. She was transported to Pascagoula from Yokosuka for two-years of restoration and repair. It’s tough been a Sailor assigned to the yards. I know first hand – my first ship as a division officer was USS O’Bannon which spent my first 15 months in the Charleston Shipyard. It involves long shifts doing grungy yard work – it’s like been imprisoned aboard for several months, without enjoying the tranquility of the open sea.

My new Sailor friend informed me that the sea trials went well and in no time, the USS Fitzgerald would be underway for total ship training with deployment in the horizon. Yes, this brought back tender, somber memories from my first tour as an operations specialist after boot camp and my first tour after NROTC.

The one-man band, Jamie Hyatt, kept on strumming and singing nostalgic classics. In one high-energy, chilled-down performance, he bellowed the soothing hits from the 60s to 80s, making people sing along and smile.

My bartender, Aide, is from Mexico and she does her magic serving up a wide concoction of drinks, some sweet, some strong, some tasty, some bland – whatever the customer desires.

I considered driving to New Orleans. But Wayne who made his annual ritual there tells me NOLA hasn’t been the same ever since the Hard Rock Hotel came tumbling down. The body of one of the construction worker who couldn’t be safely extracted was exposed when. a tarp covering it blew off with the high winds.

The high gusts has put a huge dent on the festivities. Two people have been killed by floats in separate incidents this past week. It’s a great tragedy – no one should die because of fun. As I celebrate Mardi Gras in Mississippi, I’ll avoid driving south of the Pontchartrain this time – New Orleans, as much as we love her, just isn’t the same. And sometimes we can be content where we park and hunker down for the night.

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