I am not a blogger

Once in a lifetime chance to go to the Jazzfest in New Orleans, and me and my friends are too hung over to really enjoy it. We suck.

The festival was much better than I anticipated. Early in the day it was not crowded at all, you could walk right up to a stage and dance or watch the band-not that we did, we just shuffled along like the walking dead-but we could have. The layout of the festival is very good, most stages are spread apart enough that the noise is not a factor. I believe there were like 8 stages and tents.

As we walk in, the first band is a Spanish band, big bang, with horns and percussion and typical latino music. Fun, energy, and would have loved to stay and watch, but had to shuffle along in a trance in search of food.

Thank god we found the food next. I have never seen festival food like this. All typical Cajun New Orleans Southern choices, long long rows of booths with the type of food in bold letters a long the top, and no booth selections were the same: Fried Alligator, Po Boys, Gumbo, Etouffe, Muffaletta (had one). I also had fried green tomatoes and a cajun meat pie. 3 lunches. There wasn't single cotton candy or elephant ears to be found, none of the typical food.

The booze was a problem. 3 types of beer at the whole festival and one of them as non-alcoholic! Fosters was one which I hate, and ironically I am there with 2 frat buddies from Australia. So it was Miller Time. You could also get wine in a plastic bottle, and-I kid you not---champagne in an aluminum can. I had one at first, carbonation good for the hangover, mixed with that hair of the dog. It did not taste at all like champagne, but it hit the spot whatever it was.

The artsy booths were really cool also, true artists, again not typical festival crap. We shuffled through them in a haze, not happy, not unhappy, just floating around.

I supposed you notice I am nearly the end of the entry with very little mention of music. There is a reason for this. Yes, I went to a music festival and basically watched 4 songs of one band. It was Alison Krauss and Robert Plant. Main stage, end of day, ridiculously crowded, so we just couldn't deal. My Australian friend was moved, 'She sings like an angel' he said. I was impressed to see Robert Plant live, I mean Led Zeppelin! But he was doing this folky kinda thing and I was tired. So we left before Sheryl Crow.

As I look back, I really am disappointed that I was all the way there and did not get to really "do" the festival. So I will have to rewrite my first sentence and be sure it is not a once in a lifetime event, and go back next year.

Seriously. It's not. It's cliché. Jagermeister. German. Typically downed as a shot, super super cold. The exact recipe of spices or herbs is kept a secret, but I think it is licorice flavored almost. All the frat guys do it and have since my oldest brother was in college 15 years ago. It takes like cough syrup. Chicks do not like it, and if they do I want nothing to do with them. They may as well have Skoal in their lip shotgunning Coors out of the can. Sick.

My friends and I are on a quest to rid the campus of Jager. No, not by ingesting it. We were really into Jager for a long time, pretty much the ring leaders of Jager bombs, pushing it on every one, screaming Jager! Jager! Jager! at the parties. Just like the rest of them. We were shooting the breeze (hung over) and one of them admitted that he hated Jager, I of course immediately chimed in, and the plan was born. No More Jager. Jager is for Losers. We talk it down. We ban it from the house parties. We rag on the other frats when they start their chant. And the chicks kinda like us doing this, I told you they hate Jager. They'll help us by rolling their eyes and walking away from the Jager swilling idiots.

What rocks about this plan is getting to check out all the other choices for shots to go with our beers. So one guy gets us going on Jim Beam. It's masculine. It's cheap. But it's just not cool at all. And it's definitely not gonna be rum. So then we are on to Vodka. Absolut. Every flavor. Definitely cool. There is Kurant, Citron, Mandrin, Raspberri, Ruby Red, all good for shots. Cheap enough, about the same price as Jager. Plenty to mix it with for the girls. Just about anything onhand. Impress a girl by whipping up a Cosmopolitan. But not quite the appeal to try to outchant the Jager chanters, "Vod-KA, vod-KA". Nope. Sounds gay.

The answer is tequila. Patron all the way baby. Chilled only. Silver only. Lime only. No salt.

Well the salt rule is flexible if there is a hot chick that will let you do a shot off her. If a chick is around that says she can't do shots, a little squeeze of lime right in the shot is nice. And having the Patron on hand, if you keep some margarita mix or even just lemonade on hand, what chick can resist a margarita. As far as I'm concerned, Patron can be the new Jager and I will never get sick of it. And as much of an alcoholic as I sound like, I'm just having fun, and do not plan on having what my older brother called "a bad tequila night", where he got so sick and so wild that he is sworn off it. I can't imagine. One trip to Mexico with me could change that though…. (In your Tony Montana accent, fist banging on the bar) PatRON! PatRON!