One All-Star Weekend, some things, V1.1

NEW ORLEANS -- So. I'm here. Fairly painless travel day, by my standards. A misplaced wallet, a detour to drop off mini-mike's lunch box and about four minutes to pack. Made my gate with five minutes to spare. Cake.

The one sore point is my left thigh which was chafing against my neighbour's right thigh from Chicago to New Orleans. I'm about 200 pounds give or take a few, depending on my chicken wing to workout ratio. The couple I was sharing my row with had me by about 400 pounds collectively. No need for arm rests, is my point. They were nice though. They had tickets for "everything except the east-west game" and they come to all-star weekend every year. So it's true, what they say, this is like Black Thanksgiving, I ask? "Oh yeah"

So not to put too fine a point on it, but hitting all-star weekend is like landing on a planet called Hip-Hop for few days. The first one I covered was in Atlanta, in 2005, I think, which was pretty much the peak of the throwback jersey trend, and the start of the rims that spin trend. I still get dizzy when I think of the weekend-long traffic jam that was that weekend in downtown Atlanta, with row upon row of shiny SUVs and rims that never stopped moving even though the vehicles rarely did. That and getting up earlyish and wondering down to the lobby of the hotel and seeing many, many, big men slouched in couches sleeping off the night before wearing football jerseys and basketball jerseys big enough to parachute with.

Not sure what to expect from New Orleans, but I did make my first visit to Bourbon Street last night. For those who haven't had the pleasure, it's a really, really long street that is largely unchanged, architecturally, from it's roots in the 19th Century. So you have cobble stones and two and three story buildings with balconies and wrought-iron railings. I suppose the major change, culturally, would be the introduction of t**ty bars about every 28 feet. I'm not sure if that's the Acadian influence or what, exactly.

It wasn't so crowded last night, but you could definitely see where if you wanted to get really drunk and walk around, this is the place to do it. In between the t**ty bars are live music venues that cater to just about every imaginable taste. There was the one with the band doing the spot on cover of what, if I had to choose, would be my favourite Journey song: Loving, touchin, squeezin'.

The lead singer was kind of busty, wearing a tank-top and a nicotine patch, but that wasn't the best part. At the instant I stuck my head in this littlish guy runs up to the stage between the swaying 40somethings and then -- does a full back flip! Wow, someone as equally moved by a spot on Journey cover as me!

I look at little closer and the back-flipper is the Celtics Leprechaun!

Neat, eh?

Anyway, saw some other quasi-celebs. Dave Winfield, for example.

And then later on Joey Graham and Jamario Moon walked by, likely off the catch the second set of the Journey cover band, I'm sure.

I'll keep you posted as things develop. In case you hadn't heard Dirk Nowitzki is replacing Kobe Bryant in the three-point shoot-out. I still have Kapono as an even-money favourite to win, but Nowitzki is defnitely a bigger threat than Kobe was.

Good bumper sticker: make levees, not war. I wonder if Nash is going to put it on a t-shirt?