Po
boy views
By
Phil
LaMancusa
The
Ides Of March
Or
Angel
From Montgomery
“And Spring arose on
the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of
Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and
herb on Earth’s dark breast
Rose from the dreams
of its wintry rest.”
However,
you pick up your March Where Y’at and it seems that this month’s festivities are
starting as slow as the Saints defense. Well, you’re not imagining things.
As a
city that’s founded on a Catholic menu (with liberal side dishes of lascivious
licensing), we tend to lay a little low after Mardi Gras to atone for our rambunctiousness
during Carnival--- however--- when we
can taste the end of Lenten season, our hormones and pheromones chafe at the
bit. Consequently, long about the middle
of March, the sassy and smartass celebratory locomotive begins its chuga-chug-chug
(the little engine that could…… and does).
Starting
with Buku Music and Art on the 13th, we slide into Mardi Gras
Indians Super Sunday, St. Joseph’s, St. Patrick’s, Congo Square New World Rhythm,
New Orleans Food, Tennessee Williams Literary, Spring Equinox, International
Beer, Hogs for a Cause, and Louisiana Oyster Jubilee Festivals. March-- in like
a lamb and out like a lion--especially because, in the interim, there will be
second lines, crawfish killings, birthdays, deadlines, wanderings, wooings and
someone getting a fat check back from Uncle Sam.
It’s
said ‘there’s nothing as constant as change’ and the new influx of
residents—from hospital workers to Hispanic laborers; forward thinking teachers
to the struggling upwardly mobile --- change demographics. New Orleans continues to
be painted with a wide brush, and you’d be a fool not to love the colors and a
traitor if you didn’t wish that things would remain the same. You can play the
“I remember when….” game all you like; but, one thing for sure about spring
2015, there’s eddies in the wash, cosmically and cosmetically.
The
French Quarter has turned into a Disney-esque caricature, the Marigny has become the new
French Quarter, upper Bywater has become the New Marigny, lower Bywater has
turned into Brooklyn and less
affluent folks are being pushed (again) into ‘the Nine’ (upper and lower). What
was once a viable downtown is now hotels, office buildings and parking lots. Affordable housing for retirees and missions
for the homeless share zip codes with churches, schools, nursing homes and
product driven facilities which now are either condominiums or hulking shells.
Meanwhile,
a gleaming steel and concrete city on the hill will have arisen smack dab it
the middle of River City where a neighborhood once stood. Likewise the Lafitte
Greenway will be nearly complete, they’ll still be talking about tearing down
that affront of an interstate along Claiborne, the last of the projects will
have fallen, and possibly a decision will be made about the old Charity
Hospital.
Question:
what are you gonna do? Answer: whatever you can. Pray for a good landlord and a
reasonable rent, throw caution to the wind and watch your back.
There’s
no sense in even considering a move to another city/town. That would only
become a stigma on the polish of your impeccable personality; face it, once
you’ve drank the New Orleans cool aid
you’re doomed, spoiled, cursed and infected with a love/hate relationship with
the best damn city in the nation. No one who has ever lived in New Orleans will
consider anywhere else in this country their true home. There, I’ve said it and
I’ll swear by it. Hell, maybe I’ll run for Mayor.
At
one time I believed that the only place to live in New Orleans would be in the
French Quarter and it’s true; kinda. The Quarter’s 24/7 sensory overloaded me (at
some point most tenants will know when it’s time to leave the party); and, I
found another neighborhood complete with kids, trees, squirrels, neighborhood
pubs, coffee houses, restaurants and groceries.
Perversely,
there are tracts of housing area that have only convenience stores and the
occasional wild chickens. With luck there’s a washateria, filling station,
Dollar store, Kentucky Mac Bell and/or bus stop close by; regrettably (and still),
some folks are not that lucky. Historically, we are a city of haves and
have-nots. We’ll make do. It’s the foundation of our culture, food, music and
it’s in our blood--that’s not denigration--it’s
the way it is.
Back
to Spring (March 21st); in Italian it’s Prima Vera, meaning the
First Truth, the true end of the past year and beginning of the new. Our juices
flow. We do some ‘Spring’ cleaning. We decide to ‘get in shape’. Our young
fancies have returned to love and our appetite for life reawakens. We become
more critical, wistful, energized, keen; you know: “out with the old….” The First Truth in New Orleans is that we
will never be any better than what we are, but probably not any worse; so, spring
forward (!), dust off your dancing shoes, suit up and prepare to shake your
money maker!
