Howler Dispatch: Privateers Begin
Posted on July 10, 2015
Started off with a central Texas swing to Black’s BBQ and Gruene Hall. While fishing in a canal between an abandoned water plant and a family barbeque, a giant man called to us over a smoke gurgling grill to ask if we were fishing for a “particular kind of perch”. He didn’t have a shirt, but wore the largest woven hat I have ever seen. Earlier that day we loitered around Gruene Outfitters until we convinced Davis James, who was working, to take us fishing after he got off shift. He got a hold of another fishy dude, Daniel Hughes, and they took us to the canal, warning us to watch out for the razor-wire topped fence behind us while casting at fat, sunfish-gobbling largemouth.
After a send off at the Mean Eyed Cat in Austin, we loaded the van and ended up in New Orleans on Independence Day. Started off at the Bourbon Cowboy where a server tried to manhandle me into taking America flavored test tube shots out of her cleavage. It was one in the afternoon. So taking Frank Praznik’s advice, we headed towards Jackson Square and away from the spoiled kegs and overstimulating midday vice of Bourbon Street. Eating alligator Po’ boys and drinking hurricanes from a Tiki bar that didn’t serve beer, we watched the Big Easy fire a couple of rounds over the water. Now eastbound and down.