Inspired by the Saints victory, I loaded up the family and headed down to Mardi Gras. I am kicking myself for missing so many years.

Mardi Gras is intimidating to outsiders, even more so when children are involved. I doubt I would have gone were it not for Jack Ryan, editor and publisher of the McComb Enterprise-Journal and colleague for more than 25 years. Jack was raised in New Orleans and is a Mardi Gras junkie. He said the Sunday before Fat Tuesday would be a perfect family day.

By the end of the week, I had started checking around for a room. I figured somebody, somewhere would cancel and I could find a room. No luck. Booked solid.

So I came up with an alternative plan: Book a room in Hammond. Drive down the night before which would get us to the morning parades in time. The Hammond hotels were wide open, allowing me to hedge my bets with the weather.

Then the Friday snowstorm hit. What a magical day of snow fights, snow angels and snowmen! Eleven-year-old Lawrence was truly impressed that I knew how to make a snowman by rolling the circular glob of snow along the ground until it grew to massive proportions. We had the carrot nose, the scarf and the eyes made out of coal!

All of this snow hullabaloo was exhausting, but the weather in New Orleans was supposed to shoot up to 60 for Sunday. Perfect parade weather. Son John, who is turning 13 and is an expert on holidays, announced he would love to go to Mardi Gras to celebrate his birthday. Perfect! Decision made. I called Ginny to announce that I was taking her to Mardi Gras as my Valentine's Day gift to her!

Now anybody with young children knows that family vacations are hard work. I look at them the way athletes look at running a marathon or going on an outdoor hiking adventure. It's all about the challenge and mastering the execution.

Our 1998 Chevy van had just been outfitted with a new alternator and had no red lights on the dash display. (To be honest, that's because most of the idiot lights don't work anymore.) After 12 years, I have finally gotten the van just the way I like it. So old that when a child yanks the sun visor off its mount, I just laugh and throw the thing out of the window. It is a stress-free machine: Big, drivable and completely beyond rehabilitation.

You would think we could fire up the Chevy and roll, but there is a surprising amount of logistics: ice chest, food, drinks, portable chairs, ladders for the kids, a cart to haul all the stuff, pillows, blankets, blowup mattresses for the hotel room, a blowup pump for the blowup mattresses, sweaters, jackets, emergency meds, toothbrushes, proper footwear, books and spelling quizzes for en route, sunglasses, sunscreen. No doubt I'm missing several dozen other items.

Thanks to the miracle of the Internet, John and I were able to peruse the restaurants in Hammond. John loves to cook and loves to eat out, so I let him pick the restaurant for his birthday dinner. He chose Tope La, a classic French Creole icon of Hammond. Tope La is "gimme five" in French.

Thanks to the miracle of cell phones, we hooked up with Ginny's dad, Bob Knight, and his wife Linda en route. They drove over from Baton Rouge and joined us for an awesome meal in a quaint Hammond downtown area. Best broiled oysters in the world.

After a restful night at the Hampton Inn, we cruised down to New Orleans singing Mardi Gras Mambo all the way. Destination: the southwest corner of Jackson and St. Charles where the extended Ryan clan would be holding a virtual family reunion.

We lucked out and found a place to park, but had we not there were tons of $25 spots available. We got there in plenty of time to set up. The weather was perfect and it was not congested or cramped at all. Indeed, it was perfect.

The parades came and the kids (and parents) went wild over doubloons and beads. To think, beads like these bought Manhattan 300 years ago. Now they are thrown out by the truckload for free.

Son Lawrence and Jack bonded over their common Mardi Gras enthusiasm. Every bead was a precious victory. Jack displayed the extent of his fanaticism. He carried a notebook in which he noted the time, location and other relevant information on every doubloon he acquired. He's been doing this for decades.

The sights and sounds of the street scene and the unending parades made me appreciate the wonderful uniqueness of New Orleans. What a happy time. So many people. So many smiles. The previous week 850,000 came out for the Super Bowl parade and there was not one incidence of violence.

What a city. While we're all recovering from the holiday season, they party for two weeks! Indeed, New Orleans is probably the most partying city in the world.

We stayed for a bit of Bacchus, then headed back, making it home in time for bed. What a day! What fun! The Emmerichs will be back.