Guest blogging: Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?

Having just been there for the second weekend of the annual Jazz & Heritage Festival, I answer with a resounding yes. The sad thing is I was able to say the same while I was there.

THE GOOD

Although I am a frequent visitor to The City That Care Forgot, I am pretty claustrophobic in crowds, so this was my first visit for any of the big festivals (New Year’s, Carnival/Lundi and Mardi Gras, Convergence, French Quarter Fest, Satchmo SummerFest, Southern Decadence). Jazz Fest was incredibly well-run. According to other attendees, the crowd was typical of other years. The music was fantastic, the food and drinks were ample and delicious (I’m now hooked on pheasant, quail and andouille gumbo), and I don’t think I ever waited in line for anything (food, beverages, the shuttle, the bathroom) for more than 10 minutes.

Many of my favorite places to eat, drink, shop and hear music – Galatorie’s, Irene’s Cuisine, Acme Oyster House, Dickie Brennan’s, Desire Oyster Bar, Fiorella’s, Court of Two Sisters, Marigny Brasserie, Johnny White’s, Violet’s, Fleur de Paris, Riverstone Galleries, Trashy Diva, Fifi Mahoney’s, Tipitina’s, Rock n’ Bowl, Blue Nile, Snug Harbor, Donna’s – were open and going strong. Many more places that haven’t re-opened yet are set to within the next month, in conjunction with the planned re-opening of the Morial Convention Center. And the music at the clubs in the evenings was beyond phenomenal, with unexpected combinations popping up everywhere (Bonearama, Rebirth, Dirty Dozen AND some Mardi Gras Indians at Tip’s, Charmaine Neville with several very talented teenagers at Snug Harbor, everybody and their cousin playing a kickoff Rock n’ Bowl romp night on Wednesday).

The first weekend featured most of the big names, while the second weekend featured largely local talent, many of whom came home and are still displaced in the wake of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. It was a cathartic event for the many, many locals who attended and performed, topped off by Antoine “Fats” Domino’s appearance at the concluding concert Sunday night. Ill and unable to perform, Fats left the hospital to come give his best wishes to all the festival-goers, and to thank us for contributing to reviving the city.

THE BAD

Aside from a few pockets, the city is a shambles. The French Quarter, which is all many tourists see, is about 2/3 back, with many of the remaining closed businesses due to re-open within the next month. The Garden District is in fine shape, with the high-end boutiques along Magazine Street open for business. Faubourg Marigny is in decent shape too, because most of the businesses there serve the middle and upper class residents who’ve either returned or never left in the first place (it’s one of the neighborhoods that didn’t flood). The rest of the city is a mess.

I stayed in the Central Business District. The hotel I usually stay in has not re-opened, despite the building sustaining no significant damage. (I’ve already composed an angry letter to the corporation that runs the chain.) Many of the buildings in the CBD demonstrate minor damage, but what’s even more worrisome is the volume of “commercial space for lease” signs.

The rest of the city is even worse. Driving up Canal Street to Rock n’ Bowl in mid-city Wednesday night was shocking – business after business is still empty and boarded up. The shopping center that plays home to Rock n’ Bowl currently plays home ONLY to Rock n’ Bowl. With chain link fence around the entire rest of the complex, it looks like a war zone.

Driving to and from the Fairgrounds, one goes past empty neighborhood after empty neighborhood, deserted houses often slid off their foundations, the ghoulish FEMA marks indicating how many bodies, human and animal, were found there. Although there are small pockets of people in most places, the overwhelming majority of houses and businesses are dark and silent. Every highway ramp and overpass parking area is full of flooded vehicles, towed there and abandoned.

THE UGLY

The first time I saw the Morial Convention Center, I burst into tears, remembering all the desperate people who fled there, seeking safety, only to find hunger, thirst, heat, stench, government indifference, despair and death. To quote “Brownie”: “There are people at the convention center?!?” To quote Curious George: “Who cares? They’re poor, they’re black, they don’t give me and my friends money, and they don’t vote for us. Let ‘em die.”

I was constantly amazed at the ignorance of many of the non-residents I encountered. Fest goers didn’t recognize the Morial Center, and even after being told its name, had no idea what had happened there. They didn’t know that the FEMA markings were FEMA markings, why they were there, or what they stood for. They didn’t know what the water marks on houses and buildings were, and even when told, it just didn’t seem to compute. They had no idea where the 9^th ward is, or that it was the LAKEside and canal levees that failed. No, the Mississippi River did not flood the city, people. And no, I don’t think they were drunk at the time. Was I the only person in America paying any attention last August and September?

But the ugliest thing is our political “leaders,” who can’t even be bothered to force the insurance companies to pay up (which would cost the government NOTHING), so that people can go on with their lives. Nor can they be bothered to reign in the Army Corps of Engineers for causing the whole disaster with their decades ass-backwards pork barrel water “management” projects. Nor can they be bothered to pull their heads out of their tax-cutting asses long enough to actually RAISE taxes to go DIRECTLY to Gulf Coast restoration.

Interacting with locals, my most common question was: “What can I do to help?” The answer, invariably (in a town whose primary industry is tourism), was come visit, spend money, come back, and encourage others to come. Despite the many problems the city still faces – loss of residents, loss of neighborhoods, bankruptcy, massive infrastructure problems – it is still New Orleans. It’s a city built on catastrophe, having survived hurricanes, floods, fires, and plagues, always coming back. The birthplace of jazz and the second line, the only city in the United States where the residents truly understand that you’re not promised tomorrow, so you damn well better live today will come back. It’s already on its way. If you can conspire to get there, do, and help the city regain its lush, decadent, tawdry, fabulous vibe.

Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?
I miss it both night and day
I know that it's wrong... this feeling's gettin' stronger
The longer, I stay away

Miss them moss covered vines...the tall sugar pines
Where mockin' birds used to sing
And I'd like to see that lazy Mississippi...hurryin' into spring

The moonlight on the bayou.......a Creole tune.... that fills the air
I dream... of Magnolias in bloom...and soon I'm wishin' that you were there

Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?
And that's where I left my heart
And there's something more...I miss the one I care for
More than I miss New Orleans

Guestblogged by Elizabeth