Monday the show was over, and for once we didn’t have to get up early. Paul, Rob and I headed over to Harrah’s for their expansive breakfast buffet. It was so filling in fact, that when we went on the Jazz Cruise that we had scheduled, along with Wes, Tony and Bob, we didn’t even touch the food. The drink, sure, but not the food.

The cruise was a nice way to spend the afternoon, but the band wasn’t particularly good. Okay, they were awful. But any time you can spend the afternoon in beautiful weather overlooking the paddle of a paddle boat talking about Canceled Comics Cavalcade and The Champions, you’ve had a good day.

We eventually headed to the House of Blues for a great dinner and then, realizing that Jane and I had missed our chance for zydeco dance lessons, one last stroll along Bourbon.

Bourbon was a lot less crowded and quieter. I should have suspected, I suppose. But I had never seen it slow. I just thought it was a party all the time. It was still busy, just not the wall to wall people that I had grown accustomed to.

Paul and Rob left at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. I hooked up with the remaining guys, Tony, Bob, Rog, Jane and Wes for breakfast and recapped the show, planned for next year, regaled each other with our stories. Then they all left, and I was alone in New Orleans. My flight wasn’t leaving for another five hours. I did the only sane thing.

I went back to bed.

Eventually, I had to check out, and I spent the rest of the time wandering around the French Quarter. I picked up some zydeco music and some coffee from Cafe Du Monde for my coworkers at The Markell Company. I had one last buffet at Harrah’s, and donated to them the rest of the change I had.

My flight back was relatively uneventual. No delays or anything this time, just three unsupervised kids who needed to be blown out the airlock. Then Dad picked me up, and that was it.

The show was good, although I expect nothing less from Roger. I may have lined up some more work, but I can’t talk about that yet. I bought a couple of trinkets, had some good food and drink, and best of all met and hung with some pretty cool people.

You know, I don’t think I ever laugh as hard as I do at a comic convention. Maybe it’s because there’s something intrinsically hilarious about making a joke that hinges of Super Team Family and knowing your audience will get it. You get to be as geeky as you want to be. Maybe it’s because we’ve all shared so much of the same experiences, past and present. I dunno. But it’s really great. Thank you to everyone who made my experience so nice with their presence, both old friends and new. And especially those of you who stopped by my booth and had me draw you and we just talked comics or West Wing or whatever.

I do have one last Alexandra story. I had been e-mailing my Mom from the hotel, and expressed my nervousness at having to interview her. When I logged on later, there was an e-mail from Mom that said, in that great motherly way, “She should be honored that you are interviewing her.” Man, she cracks me up.