It’s cold and dazzling, New Orleans blue and gold, and I don’t know if some blithe spirit was hanging around the cemeteries as I drove in this morning to work, but I was suddenly filled with happiness and what I call that old New Orleans feeling.  That old Mississippi enchantress feeling, weaving a pell like hot beignets and cafe au lait, fried oyster po boys and slow, easy days.

It’s going to be a good day, I can feel it.

Last night I was in the mood to watch, once again, “Two Mules for Sister Sara.”  It was in my taped gallery.  Now, with Cox and Contour, you have this feature where you can speak into your remote and give it commands, something I rarely do but last night I had so many thing taped I couldn’t find Sister Sara and gave the command, Find Two Mules for Sister Sara.  It kept responding onscreen that it was sorry but it couldn’t do it.  After several failed repeats, I just said, Oh you’re such a pain in the ass!  And there  on my TV screen were my very words, but they had asterisked out the two s’s in ass and then responded:  Sorry, I don’t take commands with that kind of language!”  Reprimanded by my own telly!  I got a good laugh at that one.

Here’s looking at you…

 

 

 

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