les bons temps

I was in NOLA not so long ago, and despite a veneer of normalcy for the tourists on Bourbon street, there is a permeating feeling that the city is fucked. And, as my co-blogger noted, tonight it has lost one of its last vestiges of pride. Whether a distraction for the proles and or a wonderous illustration of atheletic grace, the Saints billboards and signs were everywhere - "Who Dat?" is their (new?) slogan - and clearly this gave people some joy.

New Orleans is complex. It's heart-breakingly beautiful, and tropically cruel. It resembles a banana republic - and not just because the fancy mall with the Banana Republic and the Brooks Brothers stores is right across the street from the casino and the liquor store. The locals speak a different language - I saw a lot of folks speaking (I think) Creole French - and work to serve the tourists from northern lands. The Times-Picayune is full of murders that nobody seems to care enough to solve. Bourbon street is well protected, though - cops are on every corner, 'cause of course the tourists are more important.

I don't know what will happen, but it seems that the city is reduced to less than half of its population and is unlikely to grow much in the near future. It's clearly the city that America forgot - and for a visitor from the Upper Midwest, it hardly seems like the same country anymore.