NOTHING FINER THAN CAROLINA: PART C.

I AIN'T AFRAID OF NO GHOSTS

Nicole and I enjoyed our trip to Charlotte a few weeks ago. Did I mention in the other two posts that it was our first couple's trip?

There was the art museum, some decent food (pizza in a marketplace and a burger from their version of Cowbell), a rare Saints victory (Nicole and I are 2-0 together this season, the rest of the games, the Saints are 2-6) the cool weather and the hotel -- if you know what I mean. 

But the best part of the trip was the haunted tour we took in uptown Charlotte on Halloween night. 

There was a massive party at the multiple night clubs attached to our hotel, and we took a peak at some of the costumes -- Nicole's favorite was a chick dressed as a piñata and mine a guy half-naked in wrestling tights. 

Our hotel was a little weary of things getting out of hand. Check out the rules:

We tried for a walking tour, but it was sold out, so we signed up for a haunted Segway tour. To my surprise, the tour was just us and the tour guide. 

The first time I got on the Segway, I ran right into a tree, only saved from crushing into it by the tour guide. Eventually, I got the hang of it and off we went on the haunted tour. 

I was still a bit scared of driving right into oncoming traffic so I didn't take out my phone and take photos of any of the haunted houses. Which is a shame. 

The tour guide was awesome and was really into the tour. I'm sure he's told the stories a billion times, but he was genuinely into them still. And since there was no one else on the tour, we basically shared our thoughts on each stop, with him listening and sometimes then explaining even more stuff and other theories. 

There was the old lady who died in her house and her ghost now requires lights be on upstairs; the store owner who read the paper as a ghost at his old store; the fireman still saving lives years after his death; the house where hangings used to take place; and Fred, the old theatre worker who would turn off the lights and equipment while movies were being shown. 

I told the guide the story of Paul getting sliced open by Bloody Mary during Gustav evacuation, and he told me a personal ghost story involving his parents. 

Just as we were finishing, a fierce wind and storm revved up. Nicole and I then argued over the amount of tip for the guide. 

Earlier in the day, we went to the New South museum. Here's the highlight of that outing. 

That's me having a TV dinner and watching the news of Dr. King's death. Very sad. 

There was also this chart, as New South not only tackled civil rights but gay rights as well. 

Learned the term pansexual, which is someone who likes transsexuals, etc., instead of just men and women like bisexuals. 

And that was our trip to Charlotte. Left the next day as it got really cold. 

NOTHING FINER THAN CAROLINA: PART II

FOOTBALL 

Nicole and I took our first couple's vacation last week to Charlotte, and I wish I were still there having fun and ignoring the grind of daily life here. 

The intended point of the trip was to watch the Saints in action on the road. I'm trying to make a tradition of going to a road game every year, though so far it's been every other year: Tampa in 2010, Denver in 2012 and Carolina in 2014. 

It's also supposed to be a group outing, but my friends apparently don't like the Saints. Or don't like me. Hmmm. 

Anywhoozles, Nicole and I had a grand old time watching the Saints whoop that ass at Bank of America Stadium, except when she dropped her phone and the glass cracked. 

We saw a Saints fan get kicked out after a verbal and somewhat physical confrontation with a Panthers fan -- he nonchalantly knocked off the other guy's hat. Ooooo. I told Nicole he was definitely from the West Bank. 

We went briefly to a Saints tailgate before the game -- we were told about its secret location by another Saints fan in our hotel lobby. We saw Saints fans dancing in large groups in the street after the victory, which brought my record to 2-1 in road trips. Next up, Washington, D.C.  

And I took these photos. 

Bank of America is 20 years old and doesn't look a day older than five. It's aging like Jennifer Aniston. 

The concourse is huge, with no traffic to sift through at all when walking about. Wouldn't that be nice at the Dome? They also have a giant screen that shows the replay of every play immediately after the play from two separate angles.

Calling Mr. Benson. Calling Mr. Benson. Time to join the 21st century. 

Champions of what? ... I should have asked a worker if only Saints fans were allowed to enter. 

We were in the sixth row of the end zone. Anyone know why Brees always stands away from the huddle? Does he smell?

This is at a cozy little park across the street from the stadium after the victory. Pretty cool looking, eh?

Sam Mills and I the day after the game. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

The nurse, who told my mom a month ago that she had a couple weeks left, told her this week that she's nowhere near dying and that she's just fading slowly. Thanks for the emotional roller coaster, lady. 

Mom enjoyed some medicine. "Fucking Valium. Make you not give a shit about nothing."

Here are two of my favorite quotes from mom from last month. 

"I'm scared to look at my breast. Probably some fucking tumor sticking out."

This one is a classic when she was letting out her frustrations on me. "I'd like to take these fucking tumors I got moving in me and put them in you for five fucking minutes."

NOTHING FINER THAN CAROLINA: Part One

HOOPS AND ART

Nicole and I took our first couple's trip last week to the fine, squeaky clean city of Charlotte. It wasn't meant to be just us   -- all you folks who refused to go really missed out -- but I'm glad that's how it turned out. 

We flew out Wednesday morning and returned Saturday afternoon, a little more haunted, a little closer and of course, with a Saints victory. 

Charlotte was a fun city, though it's nothing spectacular. The people were friendly, and there were plenty of solid food options in walking distance. They had a few nice parks, with some nice scenery. I enjoyed our time there for sure. 

Our hotel was in uptown Chatlotte and attached to the Epicenter, which has a bowling alley, movie theatre, bars and restaurants -- both fancy and fast food. It also hosted Buzzfest on Wednesday before the first Hornets home game in Charlotte since the team moved to New Orleans. 

Let's take a look at some photos. 

I wore my Pelicans shirt to the Hornets party. Not one person made a comment about it. C'mon, Charlotte. I love this ironic photo. The worker at the station, as everyone else, didn't notice. 

It's first one to make 10 wins. I was challenged by this teenager. Kicked his ass. Then played Nicole, who jumped to a lead before succumbing to my awesomeness. 

At another Buzzfest station, there was a wheel to spin for little prizes. What did I win? Two tickets to the game that night. 

Also, former NBA commissioner David Stern was doing a radio interview and taking a few pictures. Nicole shoved me to the front of the line, and I got the last picture with Stern before his interview. 

Before the game, we grabbed some pizza and dessert. Yum, chocolate. 

It was electric at the basketball arena, as the Charlotte fans were over the moon to have their mascot back. The free tickets I got had a face value of $43 each for the upper level in the corner. 

Boy was it fun to chant "Let's go Hornets!" one more time. We ended up leaving at halftime with four T-shirts commemorating opening night. Two were on our seats, and I'm pretty sure Nicole stole the other two. 

Hey, Tom. How about one of those fancy screens at the Smoothie King Center?

On Thursday, we started at the Mint Museum, which was a nice walk from our hotel in some breezy weather. It had art and shit. 

Felt like being at home outside the museum. I put a dollar in his can. He said "I got ya" and busted into "When the Saints."

Here are my favorite pieces from da Mint. 

I forgot this guy's name, but he helped the Revolution with supplies and was condemned as committing treason in England. He doesn't exactly look happy about his contributions to American history. Maybe he knew his name would be forgotten a few days later. 

An example of American landscape by Thomas Doughty. There's a bunch of fisherman dotted among the scenery, which is really cool because they're little dots, yet so vivid-looking. 

This painting is by an abstract artist who went more traditional to show the Civil Rights march from Selma to Montgomery. She didn't mean for it to be sold, and it was found in her studio rolled up in a corner after she passed away. 

A security guard was familiar with the piece and turned into a tour guide, explaining that the artist put herself in the watching crowd at the top, placed Dr. King as just another marcher and showed the protesters as non-violent as they were taught to protect their heads. 

This is called Slow: Eleven Women and 400 Daisies. Each year 20 or so daisy magnets are removed until this golden plated women is fully revealed. The portrait of the women is a combined form from 11 chicks. 

There was an accompanying video I watched that didn't explain shit about the art. It just had the artist explain his other ideas for the project before he settled on the women and daisies. Thanks a lot. 

In the next post, I'll talk about going to the Saints' 28-10 victory over the Panthers. Here's a sneak peak of me on the TV broadcast. Look in the lower left corner. I'm clapping.