matt mcaskill

Captain Matt! Is this a Halloween post?! Thanksgiving was only a few days ago! TRUE! But what can you say about Thanksgiving that is remotely captivating? We saw some family, ate too much turkey, mashed potatoes, and pie. Small sidenote, I cooked my first turkey, and it was glorious, the prep on the other hand was gruesome. BUT we are talking Halloween so deal with it!

Welcome to New Orleans, home of Weezy F Baby

On the heels of a transcendent and mind-altering journey to Iceland, my lovely wife and myself had one last trip in store for the year. There is a place in these United States that has always been a magnet for your loyal captain. That place is New Orleans, a land of pirates, voodoo, incredible food, beautiful architecture, history, spirits, AND ghosts. Britt has never been and was eager to change that when our friend Shane offered an intriguing Halloween plan. The flights and hotel were cheap, so it was difficult to say no, despite just taking a large international trip. Between Iceland and New Orleans, we had exactly one week to check off as many Halloween-time activities before hopping on another plane. Now many of you know the good captain and his lady love Halloween season! In that small window my wonderful wife and myself managed to watch gems like; Beetlejuice, Hocus Pocus (at THE Fenway Park), Ghostbusters, Paranorman, Nightmare Before Christmas (in the theater), and Sleepy Hollow. We ALSO carved pumpkins, went to a Scare Leave (Halloween tiki bar) and the return to the Tiki boat on our one-year wedding anniversary. Small but romantic recap of our one-year anniversary. Kicked the day off exchanging gifts, one year is paper and we brought the heat, especially Britt who had a comic book made about the first year of our marriage. I’m so lucky to have the most valuable comic book ever printed, fudge Action Comics number one. What did I get my lovely wife? A print of the sky’s star orientation in the sky the night of our wedding, not AS good as the comic but still strong! After gifts we hit the road to pick up donuts from the farm we got our wedding donuts at. After a couple unapparelled cider donuts we flew to Salem Harbor. Salem the Saturday before Halloween could break most people, but I’m a local and traversed the backroads like a pro. We saddled up to the mighty tiki boat and enjoyed a wildly unseasonable eighty-one-degree day for October 28th. We had some drinks, laughs and shared stories with a few strangers before we set sail to the next destination. Okay let me speed it up, tacos, cocktails, beers with some family and off to dinner. Where did the love birds plan dinner for the first anniversary? How about the place we met! A hibachi spot a few towns over from where we live currently, yes, the epitome of romance from ya captain.

A rushed the packing process and the sails of the Angus raised to make the odd journey to New Orleans. We landed, found our way to our hotel, and met up with our cowboy, Shane. First stop was the famous Gumbo Shop. I did not get gumbo as wild as it sounds, I got jambalaya because it’s one of my favorite dishes on planet earth. I also ate a bunch of Britt’s gumbo and inhaled a couple hurricanes on the rocks. After a great meal your salty captain suggested we hit a bar to get a little pickled. Before I tell you fine folks about the first bar, let me say this, I believe I lived in this town in a past life. Something about this magical place feels too familiar, I’ve been here four times now and sense a comfort I can’t even describe washes over me. The FIRST time I came here I was driving solo cross-county and met with cowboy Shane and our friend Jason for a night. That night we got into our cups a bit and wound up at Coyote Ugly (yes, like the movie) and I was feeling a bit TOO confident. The bar had this huge wheel on the wall for drinking challenges and I felt the need to get in the ring. The bartender, Wheezy (yes, that was her name) was ready to send me to the pit of despair, but I refused to go quietly into that good night. She handed me a dart and spun the wheel, BANG! The first challenge was to have my underwear cut out of my pants and thrown into the rafters, too easy. The second challenge was some shots of well booze, even easier. The third dart hit “lingerie” and I thought that would be cooler, but it was just me putting on a lace top and that didn’t faze me because I was in top shape at the time, so it was just me peacocking for the barflies. When that failed to embarrass me, Wheezy had one last trick, and I really encouraged her by saying: “I’m from BOSTON! You folks just tourist drink down here!” That may have been a sizable mistake because Wheezy said it was time for “The boot” which I thought was a large glass of beer…no. The Boot was the actual boot on Wheezy’s foot, which she removed and placed on the bar top. That devilish bartender gave me a look that would rattle a lesser man and proceeded to pour a beer in the boot, cake walk! Sadly, that was only the first ingredient for that sweaty leather cauldron. After the beer was a shot of tequila, whisky, vodka, gin, rum, and pickle juice. Sounds great, right? I scoffed with far too much confidence, placed my lips on the rim of that boot, feeling the heat from the previous foot warming my face, I tipped it back and chugged that concoction till that boot was empty. It was victorious, liberating, disgusting and a looking back I want to throw up. We made it back to the hotel, passed out and woke up with the worst hangover and sore throat of my life, thanks Wheezy.

I lost this shirt and I miss it every single day. Also, gross.

NOW that we are back in the Big Easy, it felt appropriate to return to Coyote Ugly, with backup. Now I adore Shane more than anything, but he’s a lightweight with libations. My backup was and always is, my mighty wife. We ordered some drinks from our new wave goth bartender, and she gave us some fun sass that we all laughed off. The bar was a bit empty, so the bartender looked at Britt and said, “do you want to play a game?” Which I was EXSTATIC! Britt is a caring, warm, selfless angel…BUT she has superpowers. I laughed when our bartender set out the challenge because I knew she would lose at the hands of Britt. Shot-gunning a cheap beer? You have no shot vs my lady. A weird well shot? Pfft, Britt has like 20% sense of taste and could drink gasoline, probably. The bartender escorted Britt to the top of the long wooden bar and the two stood at opposite ends. Two shots were placed and a finish line established. Each competitor had to get on all fours and blow a plastic cup to the finish line and do the shot with no hands. I don’t gamble anymore but I would have been willing to bet my car on my mighty wife winning. That would have been a lock because Britt put on a clinic during that challenge. I was somehow involved too and had to shotgun a redbull vs the bored bartender and somehow won.

We had a mini buzz in our pockets and rode that to our next destination, a burlesque show! Years ago, Shane, myself and our French friend Ben went to a fantastic burlesque show around this time of year. THIS show wasn’t as good but was still great despite seeing the same number of dicks as boobs, but there is room for both if the drinks have a decent price. I grew up playing hockey, I’ve seen plenty of dicks, and they didn’t have the good sense to dance to the Monster Mash, so this was a step up. We tossed dollar bills, drank cheap beers, laughed, ogled and enjoyed an awesome show. After that performance we had plans to get dinner somewhere that Shane planned but I was good and drunk at that point so I could not tell you the name. All I can remember is the building was probably built in the 1800’s, the frozen cocktails made me believe in a higher power, they had stray cats living there and one bit me when I tried to pet it. One thing that was impossible to ignore was a couple sitting in the dead center of the room. One was a nebbish businessman type, and his date was in bondage with a staff across her back and latched at the wrists like a sexy scarecrow. We were sat at the table right next to them and she had to drink through a very long straw, not sure how she ate. Shrug. This place had the best cocktails on planet earth and a dinner bill that seems suspiciously high. We called it a night to prepare for the big day tomorrow, Halloween! But NOT before we showed Britt the famous Café Du Monde for the best Beignets humans can create. The Beignets were clearly delicious, but the hot chocolate scorched my tongue so bad I think I buried a few tastebuds for life.

Finally, Halloween had arrived, and the day was full of spooky possibilities in a town known for its kinship with the afterlife. We started the day off at one of the best restaurants in New Orleans, and the country for that matter, Brennan’s. Brennan’s feels like you’re inside the Pirates (my brethren) of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland, minus the animatronics and stale water smell. As a fast-paced swashbuckling scallywag myself, my meals are quick and to the point, this isn’t how they traditionally do things in the French Quarter. Meals are a gathering, meant to be drawn out and enjoyed. Drink orders were placed and arrived at their own pace, then after we had time to enjoy those, appetizers were ordered. I went with the turtle soup, I don’t feel GREAT about that, but I’ve been to Brennan’s before and cowabunga, the turtle soup will knock the colored bandana off your face. We put in our entrée orders and a commotion started to stir at the front end of the room. I’m a curious kitten, or at least was bitten by one the night before so I craned my neck to spot a gaggle of older women dressed as witches roll up. These ladies are the Witch Bitches of New Orleans, I did not give them that name, they told me about thirteen times. These dames were awesome, they passed out candy, beads, rubber rats, and snap bracelets. The Witch Bitches brought trick or treat to us, and I asked to join their coven, sadly was waitlisted. After some fun sized candy and an eggs benny that will cross your eyes, we had to walk off some calories. We wandered the streets of the French Quarter and found ourselves a flash mob preforming Thriller by Michael Jackson, nope it’s not 2015, a 2023 flash mob, so I parked myself and watched 100ish people attempt the Thriller dance to mixed results.

I wasn’t really in the market for any souvenirs, I’ve been here a few times and have more than I need, then I spotted something. After cruising through the French Market, we passed this boutique shop, and I was slapped in the face by an item in the window that seemed to be woven by my subconscious. It was a bright orange Hawaiian shirt with skeletons drinking cocktails and partying all over it. I went inside, tried it on behind a curtain located four feet from the cash register, this was the “dressing room” and she fit perfectly. I was doing my best to keep this trip on a reasonable budget, but this shirt needed to come home to the deck of the Angus. We continued to wander the streets and passed The Museum of Death. The good captain convinced Shane and Britt it would be a fun Halloween activity, assuming it would be kitschy and silly. Tickets and a fun pin purchased, then briefed by the incredibly sunny and friendly employees (this reads as sarcasm but it’s not, they were real sweethearts, which is almost more unsettling) coincidently one of them asked if we were from Boston because I had a Bruins hat on. This chap actually went to the same college as me! Same area of focus as well, to which I quipped “what a useless degree” and he agreed and snapped back; “I know, that’s why I work at museum.” Now, I respect this guy, but calling The Museum of Death an actual museum is like calling hot dog a sandwich, there is an argument to be made but it’s not one worth having. All that aside, we stepped passed the curtain and were welcomed to the museum’s first room full of funky taxidermy, animal bones and curio cabinets full of smaller animals in funny poses. I hoped the whole experience would be this goofy/tongue in cheek ride, I was horrifically wrong. The second exhibit was art, letters, artifacts, and pictures of serial killers. Making this station number two in their twisted funhouse is like doing a double feature of Casper and following it with Texas Chainsaw Massacre, let us adapt for a second. We wandered, soaked in all the museum had to offer, Charles Manson’s prison clothes, death masks, a history of funeral practices and treasures. I also saw a small girl dressed as Jigsaw from the Saw franchise and after about twenty minutes in that place all three of us were visibly upset, time to pull the crew together and set sail for calmer waters. We left and I apologized to our group for the awful suggestion, we all needed a drink after that. We got one to go at a crappy bar with no drink menu (try harder, folks) and walked a block to and found a fun vintage shop. This is the pallet cleanser we needed, neon Budweiser signs from the 80’s of Spuds Mackenzie, 90’s McDonald’s Happy Meal toys, original Jurassic Park t-shirts and Kiss baseball jerseys. I chatted up the owner who happened to tour manage my favorite band, Less Than Jake, which rules! I found myself a decently rare Fozzie Bear Pez dispenser from the late 80’s and gave my new vintage homie a crash course in Pez and what to look for. Our group’s vibes were starting to improve, and we headed to the Napoleon House, one of oldest bars in town. Apparently, Napoleon lived here or hung out here? Who cares, the real star is the Pimm’s Cup, probably one of the best cocktails I’ve ever tasted. I had a few of those magic potions and posted up to watch a band on the street. NOLA is one of those towns that has live music around every corner and 80% of them are the beset live band you’ve ever heard. The musical talent that just plays in the open with a guitar case or bucket full of loose bills in this town is incredible. The music brought us back to life a little more and sent us to the famous Royal House and found us some po’boys. After the bellies were packed with shrimp, gumbo, and Voodoo juice, we hit the streets again and FINALLY caught a parade. We had a lovely march of horns, drums, and a happy wedding party!

I’ll never go back here, but I like how this picture came out.

Okay, time to stop messing around, it’s Halloween and the sun is ready to set, costume time. My wife half-asses nothing in her life so she packed multiple options for her costume. Britt landed on “Party Animal” which was a tiger onesie, party hat, party blowers and some plastic leis. Shane was amped to dress up and had a stellar Scout Leader costume ready to go and saw my excuse for a costume and dialed it back. Now, I love a good costume but sometimes I just make up some bullshit to make my basic costume seem more impressive. This was one of those moments, I put on a Hawaiian shirt, a bucket hat and some plastic fangs and just said I was a retired vampire. Costumes on our backs, we power-walked to St. Louis Cathedral (which is a true spectacle if you’re ever in town) to meet our ghost tour. I was really excited to start the tour but there was a huge circle of religious weirdos dressed in all white in a circle chanting about Geezus, sins and other vibe-killing crap, it was a bit upsetting. Fudge those wet blankets, let’s talk ghosts. The first stop on our ghost tour was Muriel’s restaurant and the history was fairly upsetting and somewhat hit home. Britt was standing behind me, put her arm around me and I felt her start to lean. On the first stop Britt was briefly possessed by some rouge spirits and needed a water and time on the bench. My wife/first mate likes to claim she has a sixth sense, premonitions, and feelings. I have always rolled my eyes and smiled but after this trip, I’m a believer, beyond that, it’s not my business to explain. Britt bounced back like a champ, and we continued our weird ghost tour that was a bit graphic depicting torture and unceremonious endings. Some bozo dressed like the girl in The Ring kept following us and Shane was ready to start swinging on him. We went back to Murials for dinner and the food was great but vibe a tad off, despite being sat next to a crew of friends in their 50’s dressed like the good people of Gilligan’s Island (what’s up Ginger), which I loved. Shane was facing the window and waiting for the ring dude to return, and I was excited to check the speakeasy hidden in Muriel’s. A delicious dinner under the belt we explored to the hidden bar and lounge. The lounge was supposably on the second floor, at the base of the stairs is a table set for Pierre Antonne, the previous owner of said building who met his tragic end. On the table are two glasses of wine for him, to appease a restless and vengeful spirit. Pierre’s story hit me hard when I heard it, he was a successful businessman who gambled all his money away. When the money was gone, he sent his wife and children away, made his way to the second floor and hanged himself. We were on the second floor and found Séance, a goofy lounge claiming to be a speakeasy. Britt got some weird vibes and wanted to leave, so Shane and myself trusted that and called it a night. Let me be clear, I believe in countless questionable things; ghosts, shapeshifters, aliens, cryptids, parallel universes, stargates, vampires, ESP, dimensional slips, and all! I have always had my eye out for those amazing things and did not want to believe it was so close to me. My wife for sure has a sense for those things just beyond and in a town that celebrates that, it was amplified. Calling Halloween night early felt like the best move and I’m glad we did. We had ourselves an awful night’s sleep but luckily had another great breakfast waiting for us tomorrow. Which is both literal and metaphorical. All strange nights have a breakfast waiting when the sun creeps its way into the sky, cleansing the darkness.

Final hours in the Big Easy, another incredible breakfast at Hotel Monteleone which has the Carousel Bar, sadly not open at that time. I have tried to go to that damn bar four times and failed all four, looks like I need to come back and ride a wooden horse. I love NOLA like part of my soul always lives there but I was ready to get home. Too much travel in too short of time and I missed my bed and car. The Angus took us home and finally we could rest before the next holiday on the calendar. What I took away from this trip is this, respect the past and always look for the signs. Stay tuned and keep smiling.