In 1981 I was living in Dallas, Texas and hanging out with a gang of southern self-proclaimed "dirty-white boys" and their girlfriends and we were young and out of school and went anywhere we wanted. On Halloween of that year we went to see The Rolling Stones at an outdoor arena but I don't think it was Texas Stadium. I remember it rained harder and harder as the Stones played harder and harder and a hundred thousand people were in costume. We were so jazzed up that within days, about six of us decided to board a plane at the last minute and head to New Orleans and see The Stones play at The Superdome.
I'm sure it was Jamie who was in charge of getting tickets - asking the cabbie, the bellboy, hanging at the dome, going to Bourbon Street. I think it didn't take long and they were certainly all of twenty bucks - scalped - and that night we were the largest assembled crowd in an indoor arena to date.
Later, that same crowd controlled Bourbon Street. Happy, Stones loving, music loving people. It was the greatest time ever for everybody there. It wasn't like Mardi Gras which I went to a few months later. That was over-crowded and psychotic. This was truly energetic and cheerful and you could walk in and out of places and everyone was in a festive mood.
I recall separating from the gang for a while and walking over to the riverbank and gazing out at the Delta Queen where The Stones were then partying. It was like gazing out across the water at the glimmer of a Gatsby party. I walked back through Jackson Square, grabbed a beignet and headed back to the throng of people that knew there was no other place on earth to be that night but New Orleans - that night in the French Quarter was like being at a Gatsby party.