The joy of missing out

Baton Rouge has a Memorial Day tradition worth honoring: many people leave. For one brief week, Baton Rouge belongs to those of us who didn't go on vacation.

LSU students have packed up. The school traffic has vanished. The regular summer slowdown has almost begun. This is your window. Use it.

Walk into the CC's on Jefferson and order whatever you want. No line. No anxious shuffle. The coffee arrives fast because people of means have fled to 30A.

Drive up College Drive and back again, like a Formula One driver on the world's least glamorous circuit. Marvel at the uninterrupted majesty of a mattress store, battery retailers, muffler shops. Pull right into Panda Express, and sing with joy because there is no line blocking traffic on that side street. 

Go to happy hour on Friday. Sit at the bar. Hear every word. Speak to your favorite bartender without cupping your ear and yelling, "Huh?" across a crowd of people discussing traffic, health care insurance, LSU's baseball failure.

Go to Trader Joe's at 5:30 p.m. and experience the quiet thrill of parking near the entrance.

Eat somewhere that normally requires planning and patience. Order slowly. The waiters have nothing else to do.

And if all else fails, go see Mike the Tiger. The big cat could probably use a little company.