30 years ago today, just after 2:00pm, I packed the last of my things into my VW Bug and left my parent's house in New Orleans for Baton Rouge and my first year at LSU. It was, to quote from a Randy Newman song about New Orleans, "the end of my baby days." It was a Sunday. I was 20.
I remember sitting in my dorm room in South Stadium that night trying to find something on late night Baton Rouge TV - other than televangelists - and wondering if leaving New Orleans wasn't just the stupidist thing I had ever done.
But in hindsight, it wasn't. (That would come later, and involve East German border guards, AK-47's, and and a dare.) Leaving turned out to be one of the smartest things I ever did. While I love the Crescent City, 30 years on I have no regrets.