I've been in this fun interesting, quirky metropolis for a few days. The live music all around is reminiscent of Mexico City. Yesterday we took an Uber as a family to SABA middle eastern brunch, which, ironically, my father, who called himself SABA to the grandkids, wouldn't have liked. That freshly made pita right out of the brick oven. Awesome. We've had the kind of nasty chicory coffee, beniets or however they are spelled and other local food. Definitely encountered plenty of fun local personalities. I've met what I now consider new friends from Atlanta and Miami, wedding friends. My sister Kimberly met her husband at a wedding. One of the unique highlights was walking with a plastic flute of Voodoo Champaign poured out of a can in a second line wedding parade around the block with a marching band. People were hanging out their windows cheering us on and coming out to join us. What a great tradition. And those amazing ribs and hot links smothered in bbq sauce over a couple slices of generic white bread from that random food truck on our first morning. The way the two cooks tenderly held each other in loving satisfaction after watching us devour their food using the city bus stop as a dining table. I am grateful we can do this as a family, still. Saba is looking down at us with gladness and a bit of envy, perhaps, though I've read, my dear blog groupies, that lower vibrational emotions don't exist in the world to come.