I first saw Andy J. Forest perform at the Mirliton Festival in Bywater a couple years after Hurricane Katrina. He and the band put out a sturdy rendition of 3-chord blues appropriately punctuated with fuzzed-out guitar solos and grinding harmonica. I bought their 2007 CD "Real Stories" shortly afterwards and I’ve enjoyed it ever since.
The first cut tells the saddest story of them all, the story of Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath with just the right sardonic tone to keep it from rummaging too deeply into the most painful memories. Forest applies the blame generously: everyone gets a shout out: from Mayor Nagin to the Army Corps of Engineers to the President, who provides the title line, “Let’em Die.”
The song is well paced with an outstanding harp solo and sturdy guitar riffing that is sure to snare the table-top drummer in all of us. Forest's phrasing helps him fit all the right words into his lyrics, a technique that almost approaches modern rapping. But have no fear, "Let'em Die" is a blues song from top to bottom with a chorus of singers repeating the refrain like a church choir might repeat a prayer.
It's a dark view of what went down in 2005, but in the tradition of all great blues, revisiting those tragic events seems to provide the will and the energy to go on. The CD was well received and even won a local "Best of the Beat" award for blues.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Bonerama - Mr. Go
It starts with horns blowing a tight and urgent alarm. It builds with intensity and anxiety like the soundtrack of a Hitchcock film. And then it breaks into a smooth groove that can only be achieved by a great New Orleans brass line.
Bonerama retells the tale of "Mr. Go," that much hated shipping channel that runs from near Michoud in New Orleans East out to the Gulf of Mexico.
"Twenty feet of water on my crowd,
Mr. Go you bringing me down.
Cypress swamps used to be,
Mr. Go it's broken these.
St. Bernard and Plaquemines,
Lower Nine coming back again.
I don't know what's been said,
Mr. Go you killed them dead."
Craig Klein wrote and sings the lament, delivered at a slightly slower pace than a march, but with an arrangement that soldiers forward through the blues and into post-K victory.
From the CD "Bringing it Home," "Mr. Go" is just one of the outstanding tracks on this 2007 collection of bone-crunching covers and brass-jam originals. Bonerama bills itself as a rock band, and sometimes they really are. But that label limits their artistry in so many ways.
Just listen to the creative use of the sousaphone on this track. New Orleans brass bands know how to toot the tuba at the end of each chord progression, but Bonerama gives the lowest horn an entire solo lead toward the end of the song. That alone is worth the price of admission.
Bonerama recorded "Bringing it Home" at Tipitina's so the CD captures all the spontaneity of a live show that you wish you had been a part of. Regular readers of this blog will know that science does not validate the popular belief that the MR-GO served as a "storm surge super highway" during Hurricane Katrina. But I will not quibble with facts here--this is good rock'n'roll and I love it.
Bonerama retells the tale of "Mr. Go," that much hated shipping channel that runs from near Michoud in New Orleans East out to the Gulf of Mexico.
"Twenty feet of water on my crowd,
Mr. Go you bringing me down.
Cypress swamps used to be,
Mr. Go it's broken these.
St. Bernard and Plaquemines,
Lower Nine coming back again.
I don't know what's been said,
Mr. Go you killed them dead."
Craig Klein wrote and sings the lament, delivered at a slightly slower pace than a march, but with an arrangement that soldiers forward through the blues and into post-K victory.
From the CD "Bringing it Home," "Mr. Go" is just one of the outstanding tracks on this 2007 collection of bone-crunching covers and brass-jam originals. Bonerama bills itself as a rock band, and sometimes they really are. But that label limits their artistry in so many ways.
Just listen to the creative use of the sousaphone on this track. New Orleans brass bands know how to toot the tuba at the end of each chord progression, but Bonerama gives the lowest horn an entire solo lead toward the end of the song. That alone is worth the price of admission.
Bonerama recorded "Bringing it Home" at Tipitina's so the CD captures all the spontaneity of a live show that you wish you had been a part of. Regular readers of this blog will know that science does not validate the popular belief that the MR-GO served as a "storm surge super highway" during Hurricane Katrina. But I will not quibble with facts here--this is good rock'n'roll and I love it.
Undaunted joy of NOLA music
In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, we New Orleaneans had to endure the endless cast of professional pundits and social commentators telling us that New Orleans was "worth saving" because we gave two great gifts to America: food and music.
Forget that all American citizens deserve equal protection under law and the basic rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That seemed to be not enough to warrant serious response to the crisis. America needed more. America needed to know that if bad things happened to New Orleans, bad things would happen to America’s food and music.
But that is not what I want to blog about today. No, today and in several weekly blog posts to follow, I want to acknowledge the tremendous contributions New Orleans has made to music in America and even, in the world. And I want to focus in particular on the impact Katrina had on the music of this city.
It is said that, "Blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling down." Lester Bangs once noted that rock'n'roll is "The sound of restless youth." And it was George Harrison who once opined that pop music is just "Happy songs about sad things."
Citizens of NOLA have boatloads of all of the above. Local musicians, experiencing it probably more than the average New Orleanean, have found ways to express these emotions in music.
Feelings of sadness, frustration, doubt and, yes, conviction, courage and perseverance are expressed in many post-K compositions. And on top of it all, overwhelming, undaunted joy.
Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some of my favorite local expressions of what the combined forces of nature and politics have done to coastal Louisiana--and the unbridled determination to rise above.
When I listen to these songs, I alternately feel the sadness and the joy, the tragedy and the triumph. It's what makes all great music great, and, in my admittedly biased opinion, it's what makes New Orleans music the greatest of all.
Enjoy!
Exhibit One: Mr. Go by Bonerama
Forget that all American citizens deserve equal protection under law and the basic rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That seemed to be not enough to warrant serious response to the crisis. America needed more. America needed to know that if bad things happened to New Orleans, bad things would happen to America’s food and music.
But that is not what I want to blog about today. No, today and in several weekly blog posts to follow, I want to acknowledge the tremendous contributions New Orleans has made to music in America and even, in the world. And I want to focus in particular on the impact Katrina had on the music of this city.
It is said that, "Blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling down." Lester Bangs once noted that rock'n'roll is "The sound of restless youth." And it was George Harrison who once opined that pop music is just "Happy songs about sad things."
Citizens of NOLA have boatloads of all of the above. Local musicians, experiencing it probably more than the average New Orleanean, have found ways to express these emotions in music.
Feelings of sadness, frustration, doubt and, yes, conviction, courage and perseverance are expressed in many post-K compositions. And on top of it all, overwhelming, undaunted joy.
Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some of my favorite local expressions of what the combined forces of nature and politics have done to coastal Louisiana--and the unbridled determination to rise above.
When I listen to these songs, I alternately feel the sadness and the joy, the tragedy and the triumph. It's what makes all great music great, and, in my admittedly biased opinion, it's what makes New Orleans music the greatest of all.
Enjoy!
Exhibit One: Mr. Go by Bonerama
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
What does it take?
Nominations are now open for this year's Ashley Morris Award to be presented at the Rising Tide V conference.
What does it take to get an Ashley?
► The unflinching courage to tell it like it is.
► A biting sense of humor.
► The ability to put political fakers in their place.
► Powerful skill at making a point.
► An indomitable love of family and hope for the future of New Orleans.
Nominations open now. Find out who is selected on August 28.
What does it take to get an Ashley?
► The unflinching courage to tell it like it is.
► A biting sense of humor.
► The ability to put political fakers in their place.
► Powerful skill at making a point.
► An indomitable love of family and hope for the future of New Orleans.
Nominations open now. Find out who is selected on August 28.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Getting ready for Rising Tide V
Over the to left there I've put a big 'ole button for Rising Tide V. That's the annual new media conference on the future of New Orleans I've been happy to be associated with for the last few years.
Registration is just $20 and it includes a full day of great speakers and presentations, a light breakfast, a hearty lunch, and the unique chance to meet some of the people behind the voices in the NOLA Bloggers community.
The official line-up of speakers will be announced shortly, but as an "insider" I happen to know that someone who regularly writes at this blog will probably be part of the program. The keynote speaker is typically the best of all, of course, but I'm afraid I can't divulge any information on who that might be this year. Just remember that we had actor and activist Harry Shearer and author and levee board member John Barry in the past, so the bar is set high--and we intend to move it higher.
To keep up with this developing story, plug into Rising Tide via your favorite social media platform:
And go ahead and register now before the cost goes up next month.
See you at Rising Tide V!
Registration is just $20 and it includes a full day of great speakers and presentations, a light breakfast, a hearty lunch, and the unique chance to meet some of the people behind the voices in the NOLA Bloggers community.
The official line-up of speakers will be announced shortly, but as an "insider" I happen to know that someone who regularly writes at this blog will probably be part of the program. The keynote speaker is typically the best of all, of course, but I'm afraid I can't divulge any information on who that might be this year. Just remember that we had actor and activist Harry Shearer and author and levee board member John Barry in the past, so the bar is set high--and we intend to move it higher.
To keep up with this developing story, plug into Rising Tide via your favorite social media platform:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RisingTideNOLA
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/RisingTide
Website: http://www.risingtidenola.com/
See you at Rising Tide V!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Just sayin'
Jeffrey over at the Yellow Blog compares and contrasts a major difference between living in New Orleans and living somewhere else.
Exhibit A: Lakers fans celebrate victory.
Exhibit B: Saints fans celebrate victory.
The evidence is all there.
Nuff said.
Exhibit A: Lakers fans celebrate victory.
Exhibit B: Saints fans celebrate victory.
The evidence is all there.
Nuff said.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Calling out the haters
I expect trash talk on talk radio. The radio station operators deliver it in super-sized portions because their target audience responds to it and keeps coming back for more. But I have higher expectations from the print medium.
Editors at The Washington Post this week demonstrated they do not have similarly high expectations of us.
In a story about the "suspicious" outcome of an election in South Carolina, it is suggested that the election was tainted by Louisiana. We may well marvel at the imaginative excuses South Carolina Democrats are concocting to explain the unexpected outcome of their recent primary; after all, desperate people will do desperate things.
But what shocked me is the absolute cavalier and reckless manner in which The Washington Post offers credence to the wild and unfounded accusation.
"Louisiana, after all, does political shenanigans more colorfully and brazenly than most," writes staff writer Mr. Manuel Roig-Franzia.
A reputable journalist would have written, “There is absolutely no evidence or fact to support the accusation.”
Ignoring the fact that political shenanigans are epidemic throughout America at all levels of politics, The Washington Post smugly invites readers to roll their eyes in group derision and disgust at the mere mention of the Bayou State. I wonder to what other dehumanizing stereotypes does Mr. Roig-Franzia subscribe?
You can easily imagine the thought process that drove the publication of this story. In lieu of fact-checking and respect for fellow Americans, the Post dumps mightily on an entire state with a chortle and a wink.
“Heck, fellas, it's LOUISIANA--what evidence is needed?”
I wrote to the Post to complain but received no response. Fortunately my sister-in-law in Virginia, who first alerted me to this insult of the entire population of Louisiana, also wrote. Her letter was published today.
It was suggested to me that defending the honor of Louisiana politicians is a fool’s campaign. But I don’t see this as defending our soiled past; this is defending our future. It is just as much about calling out the hypocrisy of the Post to call attention to the splinter in our eye while overlooking the timber in their own.
As my sister-in-law pointed out, “Convicted former Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards is doing time in the penitentiary while convicted former D.C. mayor Marion Barry is doing time on the city council. Did somebody say ‘brazen’?”
Editors at The Washington Post this week demonstrated they do not have similarly high expectations of us.
In a story about the "suspicious" outcome of an election in South Carolina, it is suggested that the election was tainted by Louisiana. We may well marvel at the imaginative excuses South Carolina Democrats are concocting to explain the unexpected outcome of their recent primary; after all, desperate people will do desperate things.
But what shocked me is the absolute cavalier and reckless manner in which The Washington Post offers credence to the wild and unfounded accusation.
"Louisiana, after all, does political shenanigans more colorfully and brazenly than most," writes staff writer Mr. Manuel Roig-Franzia.
A reputable journalist would have written, “There is absolutely no evidence or fact to support the accusation.”
Ignoring the fact that political shenanigans are epidemic throughout America at all levels of politics, The Washington Post smugly invites readers to roll their eyes in group derision and disgust at the mere mention of the Bayou State. I wonder to what other dehumanizing stereotypes does Mr. Roig-Franzia subscribe?
You can easily imagine the thought process that drove the publication of this story. In lieu of fact-checking and respect for fellow Americans, the Post dumps mightily on an entire state with a chortle and a wink.
“Heck, fellas, it's LOUISIANA--what evidence is needed?”
I wrote to the Post to complain but received no response. Fortunately my sister-in-law in Virginia, who first alerted me to this insult of the entire population of Louisiana, also wrote. Her letter was published today.
It was suggested to me that defending the honor of Louisiana politicians is a fool’s campaign. But I don’t see this as defending our soiled past; this is defending our future. It is just as much about calling out the hypocrisy of the Post to call attention to the splinter in our eye while overlooking the timber in their own.
As my sister-in-law pointed out, “Convicted former Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards is doing time in the penitentiary while convicted former D.C. mayor Marion Barry is doing time on the city council. Did somebody say ‘brazen’?”
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Prove me wrong
So the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:
"We will do what it takes. We will stay as long as it takes to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives."
Remember those words?
That was in 2005.
And in 2010, the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:
"We will fight this spill with everything we’ve got for as long as it takes...And we will do whatever’s necessary to help the Gulf Coast and its people recover from this tragedy."
So forgive me if I'm cynical, because I am.
I've often said that the only real difference between the two major political parties is the color of their neckties. And so far, when I compare the response to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita to the response to the current oil-pocalypse in the Gulf of Mexico, I don't see much improvement in 5 years.
President Obama, prove me wrong. Show us that your words are not simply more campaign rhetoric. Make me take my words back and write a blog about how you turned out to be a man of your word. Because I'll do it--I'll gladly eat crow online for all the world to see.
The next move is yours, Mr. President.
"We will do what it takes. We will stay as long as it takes to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives."
Remember those words?
That was in 2005.
And in 2010, the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:
"We will fight this spill with everything we’ve got for as long as it takes...And we will do whatever’s necessary to help the Gulf Coast and its people recover from this tragedy."
So forgive me if I'm cynical, because I am.
I've often said that the only real difference between the two major political parties is the color of their neckties. And so far, when I compare the response to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita to the response to the current oil-pocalypse in the Gulf of Mexico, I don't see much improvement in 5 years.
President Obama, prove me wrong. Show us that your words are not simply more campaign rhetoric. Make me take my words back and write a blog about how you turned out to be a man of your word. Because I'll do it--I'll gladly eat crow online for all the world to see.
The next move is yours, Mr. President.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Beware small, individual decisions
Several of the NOLA Bloggers are drawing parallels between the ongoing BP oil geyser disaster and the catastrophic failure of floodwalls protecting New Orleans in 2005. I certainly agree that there may be similarities in these two different engineering debacles, but we have to be careful.
There is still a lot we don't know about what happened out in the Gulf of Mexico last month and why all the safeguards, standards, precautions, fail-safe systems, redundancies and the workers who lost their lives were not able to avoid or contain the dangerous conditions of mineral extraction. Until we do know--and that may be years--we need to keep an open mind to all the possibilities.
In contrast to the BP disaster, we now know a great deal about what happened and why before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. At different locations where constructed features did not perform properly we know there were specific reasons that those point failures occurred.
But the most significant and dangerous condition was not the result of a single point of failure or isolated bad engineering decision. The most devastating factor in my opinion was what is known as "The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions."
Simply put, during the long trek from project conception to operation, a long list of changes and compromises were made that individually didn't seem significant but which added up in a project doomed to failure. Some of those decisions may have been the result of budget pressures, or local preferences, or just ill-informed good intentions. Poor Richard advised that small strokes fell great oaks; The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions can be viewed in that manner.
As we learn more about the BP oil geyser disaster, I won't be surprised if the news media, politicians and many private citizens clamor for a single point of failure, a "smoking gun" that can be blamed. There may well be one. But I would not be surprised to learn that a series of decisions made by different people at different times had a large role to play in undermining the overall safety and reliability of the drilling operation.
(If you want to read the whole sordid tale about how The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions left New Orleans vulnerable, check out the Hurricane Protection Decision Chronology, or read the synopsis as reported in The New York Times here: Engineers Faulted on Hurricane System.)
(Editorial edits on 17 MAY 10)
There is still a lot we don't know about what happened out in the Gulf of Mexico last month and why all the safeguards, standards, precautions, fail-safe systems, redundancies and the workers who lost their lives were not able to avoid or contain the dangerous conditions of mineral extraction. Until we do know--and that may be years--we need to keep an open mind to all the possibilities.
In contrast to the BP disaster, we now know a great deal about what happened and why before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. At different locations where constructed features did not perform properly we know there were specific reasons that those point failures occurred.
But the most significant and dangerous condition was not the result of a single point of failure or isolated bad engineering decision. The most devastating factor in my opinion was what is known as "The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions."
Simply put, during the long trek from project conception to operation, a long list of changes and compromises were made that individually didn't seem significant but which added up in a project doomed to failure. Some of those decisions may have been the result of budget pressures, or local preferences, or just ill-informed good intentions. Poor Richard advised that small strokes fell great oaks; The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions can be viewed in that manner.
As we learn more about the BP oil geyser disaster, I won't be surprised if the news media, politicians and many private citizens clamor for a single point of failure, a "smoking gun" that can be blamed. There may well be one. But I would not be surprised to learn that a series of decisions made by different people at different times had a large role to play in undermining the overall safety and reliability of the drilling operation.
(If you want to read the whole sordid tale about how The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions left New Orleans vulnerable, check out the Hurricane Protection Decision Chronology, or read the synopsis as reported in The New York Times here: Engineers Faulted on Hurricane System.)
(Editorial edits on 17 MAY 10)
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Treme media blitz
It's exciting and a little bit frightening. The new HBO show from David Simon is going to premiere tomorrow. Treme, a little-known but essential neighborhood in New Orleans, will soon become a household word.
Already the media blitz is on. David Simon was on The Colbert Report this week, and he gave credit to Ashley Morris for informing the character played by John Goodman in the show. The local newspaper has run almost daily stories on the show including a quick look at some of the real people who inspired some of the characters and events we will see. NPR, The New York Times, USA Today are all on the story--only Tiger Woods is getting more exposure this week.
For those looking for the real story, the true view from actual New Orleans writers, let me suggest Back of Town, a blog that promises to evaluate and parse every aspect of Treme. Knowing David Simon's love of complex characters and intricate storylines, the Back of Town bloggers will stay busy in the coming weeks. And they have all the links to the aforementioned coverage from other sources, too.
New Orleans was all over TV in late 2005. I'm hopeful this time New Orleans will be seen in a better light.
Already the media blitz is on. David Simon was on The Colbert Report this week, and he gave credit to Ashley Morris for informing the character played by John Goodman in the show. The local newspaper has run almost daily stories on the show including a quick look at some of the real people who inspired some of the characters and events we will see. NPR, The New York Times, USA Today are all on the story--only Tiger Woods is getting more exposure this week.
For those looking for the real story, the true view from actual New Orleans writers, let me suggest Back of Town, a blog that promises to evaluate and parse every aspect of Treme. Knowing David Simon's love of complex characters and intricate storylines, the Back of Town bloggers will stay busy in the coming weeks. And they have all the links to the aforementioned coverage from other sources, too.
New Orleans was all over TV in late 2005. I'm hopeful this time New Orleans will be seen in a better light.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Treme: Looking back
I googled my house again today. My previous house. The one we used to live in. Until 2005.
I zoomed in until I could see the fallen tree in the backyard, and the play gym my daughter loved to climb on, and my white Corolla in the driveway.
None of those things are there anymore. Ruined by floodwater then demolished and carted away by demolition workers, they exist only in memory and in pictures.
Google Earth keeps them fresh for me.
I don't know why I do it, but every now and then I like to google my house to see it again. It makes me feel sad, and regretful, and happy, and proud. All these emotions assault me, they wash over me like the rising tide of flood water certainly flowed over and through my neighborhood.
One of these days I'm going to zoom in on Google Earth, and instead of brown, dead lawns and lifeless streets I'll see vacant lots and greenery. One of these days the numbing, rampant destruction will fade from view. One day, I'll stop being sad about what happened to me, my family, my friends, my city, and my nation when the floodwalls failed.
Or not.
Today, I have a "new" house in Faubourg St. John. I have new furniture and new clothes. I still work at the same place, but I have a new job and a new car. Almost five years later and a lot has changed. I've changed. A lot of that change is good.
But I keep going looking back.
There's a new drama premiering this weekend that takes place New Orleans, and I'm eagerly anticipating it. Because the story starts just a few weeks after Katrina, New Orleans is going to look brown and lifeless--just like those aerial photos of my old house I keep looking at.
I'm hoping "Treme" can get it right. New Orleans took one monumental beating in 2005, some saying the city would not survive. Many souls were lost, but we did not lose our soul. Houses were made unlivable, but we didn't lose our sense of home. The darkest hours this city probably ever saw could not extinguish the light of hope from its citizens.
New Orleans survived. Against all opponents--weather, politics, hatred, apathy and greed just to name a few--we persevered.
It's healthy to look back. We need to know where we've been to understand where we're going. Even after all the ruined houses are demolished or repaired, after all the flood-borne damage and blemishes are removed and Google Earth loads new photos of New Orleans, we will still remember.
But I hope we will remember not only the failures, but the incredible strength of humanity on display in New Orleans in 2005 and since.
That's the story "Treme" needs to tell. That's the story that needs to be told.
I zoomed in until I could see the fallen tree in the backyard, and the play gym my daughter loved to climb on, and my white Corolla in the driveway.
None of those things are there anymore. Ruined by floodwater then demolished and carted away by demolition workers, they exist only in memory and in pictures.
Google Earth keeps them fresh for me.
I don't know why I do it, but every now and then I like to google my house to see it again. It makes me feel sad, and regretful, and happy, and proud. All these emotions assault me, they wash over me like the rising tide of flood water certainly flowed over and through my neighborhood.
One of these days I'm going to zoom in on Google Earth, and instead of brown, dead lawns and lifeless streets I'll see vacant lots and greenery. One of these days the numbing, rampant destruction will fade from view. One day, I'll stop being sad about what happened to me, my family, my friends, my city, and my nation when the floodwalls failed.
Or not.
Today, I have a "new" house in Faubourg St. John. I have new furniture and new clothes. I still work at the same place, but I have a new job and a new car. Almost five years later and a lot has changed. I've changed. A lot of that change is good.
But I keep going looking back.
There's a new drama premiering this weekend that takes place New Orleans, and I'm eagerly anticipating it. Because the story starts just a few weeks after Katrina, New Orleans is going to look brown and lifeless--just like those aerial photos of my old house I keep looking at.
I'm hoping "Treme" can get it right. New Orleans took one monumental beating in 2005, some saying the city would not survive. Many souls were lost, but we did not lose our soul. Houses were made unlivable, but we didn't lose our sense of home. The darkest hours this city probably ever saw could not extinguish the light of hope from its citizens.
New Orleans survived. Against all opponents--weather, politics, hatred, apathy and greed just to name a few--we persevered.
It's healthy to look back. We need to know where we've been to understand where we're going. Even after all the ruined houses are demolished or repaired, after all the flood-borne damage and blemishes are removed and Google Earth loads new photos of New Orleans, we will still remember.
But I hope we will remember not only the failures, but the incredible strength of humanity on display in New Orleans in 2005 and since.
That's the story "Treme" needs to tell. That's the story that needs to be told.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Common New Orleans
We're uncomfortable with each other. We sit elbow to elbow and make great effort to not make eye contact. If we do dare look at the person next to us, we do so with utmost stealth, in terror of getting caught looking. We dare not speak to the strangers next to us because that might be rude, or we might unleash a bore, a religious zealot, or someone otherwise totally unlike us.
Flying coach class across America, our knees often touch but our lives never intersect.
I don't have this difficulty with strangers in New Orleans. At the grocery, in restaurants, going about my daily business, I talk to people. And they seem to not mind it from what I can tell.
We may have never met, but we have so much in common. New Orleans is a small town and we're all connected in crime, weather, celebrations and politics. Because New Orleans has its own culture, its own unique food, holidays and traditions, we have shared experiences like no other city in America I know of.
At the seminar I attended in Seattle this week, I was seated at a table surrounded by complete strangers. People I've never met, worked with, or even known existed before we sat next to each other that first day. But the connections were easy. The introductions were natural and friendly.
Even though we had never met, we knew before a word was spoken that we had common interests. We all worked for the Federal government. We were all at a point in our careers that we were all participating in the same seminar.
That's all it takes--one mutually recognized commonality.
We have that in New Orleans. Nobody is ever really a stranger here. It's one of the reasons I love coming home.
Flying coach class across America, our knees often touch but our lives never intersect.
I don't have this difficulty with strangers in New Orleans. At the grocery, in restaurants, going about my daily business, I talk to people. And they seem to not mind it from what I can tell.
We may have never met, but we have so much in common. New Orleans is a small town and we're all connected in crime, weather, celebrations and politics. Because New Orleans has its own culture, its own unique food, holidays and traditions, we have shared experiences like no other city in America I know of.
At the seminar I attended in Seattle this week, I was seated at a table surrounded by complete strangers. People I've never met, worked with, or even known existed before we sat next to each other that first day. But the connections were easy. The introductions were natural and friendly.
Even though we had never met, we knew before a word was spoken that we had common interests. We all worked for the Federal government. We were all at a point in our careers that we were all participating in the same seminar.
That's all it takes--one mutually recognized commonality.
We have that in New Orleans. Nobody is ever really a stranger here. It's one of the reasons I love coming home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)