Po Boy views
By
Phil LaMancusa
June Bug
Or
Steam Tea
Surprise,
it’s June, named for the Roman goddess Juno, the goddess of marriage and the
wife of the big guy Jupiter. And at this point the year is either half empty or
half full depending how you look at it, and in New Orleans it’s the start of a
long hot summer. Crock Pot hot; sidewalk egg frying, wet blanket, steam room,
Swamp Ass Hot.
Now,
you readers that were lured here from northern climes may still have the
biorhythms of a race of bipeds that have been conditioned to four distinct and
separate seasons; not so here.
Autumn
is like a drunk on a park bench that wakes up only to doze again; winter, like
a guerilla, forays in to strike when we least expect; zephyrlike Spring makes cameo
appearances in April and May while the Dire Wolf of Summer, after butt dialing
us in those months appears, for true, in June to nestle its 600 pounds of sin
into our otherwise fun loving auras. Besides that, our seasons are shrimp,
crawfish, gumbo and football.
In
June, the heat and humidity are amplified by the street stupidity as if folks
here have not realized that again any clothing is too much clothing, you should
avoid getting drunk by daylight and if you’re not using hot sauce for anything
else, you use it to cool yourself down. That’s right, it’s time for tee shirts
and shorts, stick to one (maybe two) beers with that barbecued shrimp poboy and
smother everything you eat in Crystal Hot Sauce; ergo, the weather will bow
down to you. Dig your capsicum high
and don’t forget your SPF 50 sunscreen. You really want cool (?) go to a movie.
I’ve
spent many summers street level in the French Quarter; June is when people
start wishing to go back to May, better yet February or maybe December. June is
when brains start melting, psyches explode and peoples’ hair catches fire; June
is when the reality of summer sets in. June is when Louisiana’s Mother Nature
says “tant pis pour toi, Chere,
summer’s returned, I’ve turned up the thermostat and I’m coming for you with my
unique heat and humidity can of Whup Ass (ready or not); relax and flow into it
or draw the shades and live in that space under the air conditioner in your
bedroom with cool condensation dripping on your heated brow. You complained about
it being cold last winter? Suck it up, Chuck, it’s only gonna get hotter!”
June
is when ghosts come out because it’s too warm to stay inside wherever they’ve
put you when you die; Madame Delphine Lalaurie comes strolling up Royal Street with
her daughters; Tite Poulette is meeting her lover Kristian Koppig on Dumaine
Street; Bill Faulkner is having a game of chess with Lyle Saxton in Jackson
Square and the infamous Raspberry Mahogany is back chain smoking his Camel
straights. The lovers, the muggers, and thieves are out as well as additional clandestine
revelers immuned with absinthe and other liquid spirits enjoying the relative
coolness of the after dark. Vampires hum ancient mesmerizing melodies luring
you in for a nibble, as do all manner of insects that inhabit our tropic clime:
mosquitoes buzzing, cicadas singing and those gigantic roaches that we call
Palmetto Bugs that can take wing and fly into your face, sometimes stinging, going
clickity clacking around the walls and ceiling fans. Welcome to New Orleans
with stinging caterpillars, spiders and all manner of nocturnal, sometimes
marsupial in nature, critters; summer is not for the faint of heart. And the
breeze whispers “Stella!”
June
is when the specter of storms past herald storms in your near future and smart
money starts thinking about tempest preparedness; it’s our simultaneous eyes in
the rear view and on the road ahead weather outlook. We tune in regularly to
watch our favorite climate forecasters, judging their level of excitement when
a blower in the gulf looks like it’s gonna eat our lunch. It’s a real Russian
roulette of doom and gloom and each spaghetti model will always include a
direct hit. Good luck, this goes on until November, don’t let it affect your
blood pressure. Check your battery supplies, eat what’s in your freezer and get
the car tuned and gassed.
June
is also when we take stock of water to immerse ourselves in; whether it’s a
weekend getaway to the gulf, across the lake or sussing who will give us ‘pool
privileges’. The city provides free swimming pools and the hip get to enjoy
moments of aquaculture gratis. Smart money always knows someone that can sneak
them into a hotel for a couple of hours poolside (women are great at this) and
you’ll learn sooner than later that you’d better be on your best behavior or
you’ll be back on the street with the rest of the melting masses.
So
this June when you turn on the cold water tap and get Luke warm, ask yourself:
“who is this Luke person anyway? Was he moderately warm, tepid? Lacking
convictions, half hearted? This faucet says cold; what am I to believe? Who can
I believe, who can I trust? Oh hell, I’m going back to the bathroom and lie naked
on the cool tile floor!”
Also
in June, and at all times, never purchase a tomato that’s been refrigerated;
also, drink cucumber juice, stay hydrated and have some Viet Cajun crawfish
which is like other boils only this one is drenched in butter with fresh ginger
and garlic. I don’t know what else to tell you, June’s here and today is the
first day of the rest of your long sunshiny summer; be brave, start looking
forward to a healthy Jazz Fest and plan on attending every day, even if you
have to quit your job. Happy coming up solstice y’all!
