I think its pronounced who dat?

For everyone that does not live in New Orleans:

The Saints are in the Superbowl. Its apparently pretty big news.

My Geology Professor gave everyone 10 bonus points because of it, and ended class 20 minutes early. He teaches a 50 minute lecture. He also spent the first 10 minutes talking about how awesome the game was.

that's only 20 minutes of rocks vs 30 minutes of Saints, in a geology class taught by someone with a Very Thick Accent. i.e. this man is not even a native of New Orleans.

p.s. Tech Writing got out 15 min early, and almost pushed back our first paper when our professor thought it would conflict with the Superbowl. Luckly, we managed to stop her from shifting the date, beacuse the new date would have actually conflicted, and the old date was just fine.

hmm? Whats that? Oh, you want to know what I did for this historic occasion?

Well, I watched the game in a little no-name tavern off of St. Charles.

Yes, they had big TV's. Any place that had any sort of TV was packed.

And, wow, was it a game to remember. It was so tense, I took the entire game to eat a Philly Cheese Steak and some fries. I was going at a rate of like one fry every 5 minutes.

And, New Orleans Saints fans being the crazy, insane, yet somehow lovable batch of people they are, where naturally following the game very closely, and trying their best to feel like they where in the dome.

Which, of course means that when Sean Payton was trying to pump out the already sonic-weapon-grade loud croud, we yelled and cheered along too.

Yes, I am aware the TV is not 2-way.

It was good times. Afterward, I called up the parental unit to see if they had survived the amazingly close game (after all, their risk of heart attack was higher). The cell lines where full. The city had actually managed to place so many calls, I couldn't get an open cell line Finally, I managed to call home, find out that yes, my family was still alive. And also, planted the seed for what I would do later.

I drove back, listening to the post game reports on WWL 870 AM, looking longingly over at the French Quarter. I got back to my dorm, put my stuff up and heard something amazing. Something almost magical.

Someone was honking out Second Line on a car horn. At that moment, I knew what I had to do.

I needed to celebrate, geology in the morning be damned.

I dove right into the mob of black and Gold that was Bourbon street. Impromptu refrains of "Who Dat say they gonna beat dem Saints!" Where being sung out on every corner. There was a guy with a trumpet playing "When the Saints go Marching In" off of a balcony somewhere. The Cafe Du Monde was filled to capacity with people in shock and awe of what had just happened, eating their doughnuts with powdered sugar, whispering, "Did you hear how quiet the dome was before that field goal kick? It was silence, then as the ball rose flashes of light, then pure sound as it went right through the uprights."

I impulse bought a Saints T-shirt. I danced to some kickin' jazz at the Royal Sonesta. I met up with a bunch of college friends at some time, and had one hell of a night.

I was called the "Nerdiest Who Dat I even seen, and I love ya for dat" by a passing large black woman riding mainly outside the passenger seat window of a pickup truck.

I can't wait for the Superbowl weekend now.