We love the black-and-white-tiled floor and the raggedy old couches in their little nooks scattered about. We love the jukebox in all its soul, rap, classic rock and new wave glory. We love the wintertime fire pits out back, and the huge net tent in the way back of the building that recalls some haven where Hawkeye and Trapper John would swill martinis and flirt with nurses at the 4077th, and we also love the $2 Lone Stars, the crawfish boils, the karaoke nights, the bags of just-plucked-from-the-Gulf oysters occasionally there for the shucking. Big Star is arty but not pretentious, just like its owner Brad Moore.