“Laissez les bons temps roule”
— Cajun expression
Satan saw snow last week when the New Orleans Saints — those famous ’Ain’ts — won the National Football League title, otherwise known as the Super Bowl.
And just to prove he didn’t much care for the chilly, white stuff, he poured it across the southeast in anger. The world below the southern Tennessee state line came to a standstill with as much as eight inches covering some areas.
As proof of this end-of-the-world event, my mother sent me a photo of a snowman she made who was wearing Mardi Gras beads. By the way, that great celebration culminates with Fat Tuesday this week. Then everyone in NOLA must repent their sins and return to church. This would be a good year for them not to forget the second part of the equation of the celebration.
It is, of course, the joy of living, the joie de vivre, that makes New Orleans famous. But that joy of living is not for everyone, and, frankly, it’s not all that there is to New Orleans.
Some friends were talking during lunch and one mentioned she had been to NOLA twice and that it wasn’t for her. I could understand, she’s lived much of her life in a small town in Kentucky and going to New Orleans would be like being dropped on Mars without a map. Who would really want to do that?
But I explained to her that most people only see the parts of the city that are made visible by television cameras because visitors focus on what they are familiar with. Through television, they are familiar with the French Quarter, with Mardi Gras (which is actually the worst time to go to New Orleans) and the hedonistic things promoted from the city.
The best things to see are those never caught on a TV camera — the small art shops; the restaurants hidden through tight doorways. The small clubs with live Jazz bands that are down some narrow side street off the worn tourists path. (Be aware of your surroundings when taking the side journeys, there are unseemly characters waiting to sell the unleery tourist something, and then if the tourist doesn’t buy, they mug ’ya.)
But that mostly happens only after dark. A stroll down Canal Street during the day, or along the riverfront walkway gives a visitor a different view of the city. These were the parts of New Orleans untouched by the floodwater unleashed by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. This is the high ground area the French built upon in the days when much of the other ground that is now the city was marshland, otherwise known as the bayou.
The point of all this is New Orleans is a place to visit, but if going, do so on a quiet weekday and make it a day long journey. It’s amazing how beautiful the city is early on a Wednesday morning when no one else is around and the cleaning crews have sanitized the streets.
I believe a few lines from “Love Song of J. Alfred Prufock” by T.S. Elliot best describe going to New Orleans:
...
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question. . .
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
James Brown is editor of the Glasgow Daily Times. He can be reached by e-mail at jbrown@glasgowdailytimes. com.
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It’s snowing in Hades
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