Big Easy Blues

 

Po Boy Views

By

Phil

LaMancusa

Ferdutzt

Or

Big Easy Blues

            (New Orleans 1789): “Its condition is so bad that when I write about it, as I intend to do soon, nobody will believe I am telling the truth. But it is better to live here in sackcloth and ashes than to own the whole state of Ohio.” (Lafcadio Hearn)

            That quote resonates in me 150 years later; as Lafcadio further wrote: “Times are not good here. The city is crumbling into ashes. It has been buried under a lava flood of taxes and frauds and maladministration so that it has become only a study for archaeologists.” Indeed he could be speaking of the present day or 150 years before that. New Orleans history and (dare I say it?) tradition is one of hedonistic dysfunction going back to its birth in 1718.

            Booger Bob lives under the overpass on Claiborne Avenue; Booger Bob is one of hundreds of our ‘unhoused’ citizens; Booger Bob has over 30 bicycles in various states of repair that he sells. In fact, there are more bicycles under the overpass than I see on the street; all housed by the ‘unhoused’. Where they get these bicycles is anyone’s guess. Does any of that bother me? Not really, that’s New Orleans.

            I get a parking ticket ($30.00) if I don’t feed a meter, while certain ‘Social Aid and Pleasure Clubs’ can park on neutral grounds (medians), double-park in the street and have a traffic clogging festivities regularly with alacrity and impunity. Men on three wheel motor bikes doing wheelies and cutting through traffic lanes and impeding pedestrians and vehicles get nary a second look. Does that bother me? Not really.

            Our streets are cratered and pot holed enough to shake my muffler pipe loose and seemingly no one in city government cares. There is trash dumped and blighted houses, drunks weaving and people living in poverty, ignorance and despair around me; that’s New Orleans, murder capital of the country. I wouldn’t live anywhere else in the USA.

            Car jacking and vehicle break-ins; guns getting fired randomly; all manner of inconsideration of folks toward folks; insults and discrimination and have-nots outnumbering the haves and that’s just the way it frigging is. Got your house broken into, your bike stolen, been mugged? That’s not an ‘if’ question; that’s a: ‘it’s only a matter of time’ statement.

            All manner of cosmic debris lining our thoroughfares and plastic grocery bags blowing in the wind like dandelion puff parachutes; abandoned and feral once domesticated animals; a person throwing trash on the ground with aplomb. A ‘second line’ leaving a wake of debris. The freedom to void your bladder in a corner or move your bowels on a car bumper; condoms; syringes; bullet casings. We turn a blind eye: what do we expect?

            Who teaches our children? Who taught their parents? Who has given a rat’s whisker for over 300 years? Am I pessimistic? Not really. Am I optimistic? Same answer.

            Do I approve, condone, go along with, encourage or accept as ‘normal’ these living conditions? No, I don’t. I am among that percentage of implants and locals that have seen these conditions since first setting our feet on our pavement; for me, over half a century ago (I’m hard pressed to report any changes); we live, work and vote to make things better. I imagine that Lafcadio would feel right at home though; “the image we have today of New Orleans as beautiful and mysterious, dangerous and decaying, is due in a large part to Lafcadio Hearn” (The Guardian)

            Lafcadio wrote about police corruption, abuse of prisoners that were incarcerated; he mentions the fact of our city being home to gamblers, drunkards, prostitutes and pirates; he writes illustriously about the neglect and decay that are treated with ennui by government and population, as if they were normal living conditions. And all we can say is “it is what it is”.

            Do we need better education for our population? Do we need gun regulation; equal and fair housing; should we limit short term rentals; enforce traffic violations; help the less fortunate; ensure adequate healthcare; equal rights and opportunity? Should we support Booger Bob and buy back our stolen bicycle? All these may be questions that we as a people might should could ask ourselves; however, I don’t expect that query. You see, “only a small percentage of the population have an inner dialogue/monologue with themselves” (IFLScience.com) that would ask.  

        “An inner monologue has been found to have the benefits of planning, problem solving, self regulation, self reflection, emotional regulation and perspective; also self criticism, matters of self esteem. One’s inner monologue can also be a source of motivation, instruction, and positive self-reinforcement.” (Verywellmind.com)

        And if you are part of the 50-70% plus of the population that doesn’t have that (upworthy.com), well, you don’t have to have it to be a functioning member of society. It’s fine, nobody’s bugging you to do what’s considered the ‘right thing’; you can turn the radio up, go down the rabbit hole of your social media; get loaded and go comatose and/or stay in touch constantly via cell phone ear piece with everyone you know who are also ignoring life’s questions. You can bay at the moon for all I care.

        Forget about meditation, it only hurts the head; forget empathy, it’s for suckers; don’t bother to form an opinion about anything happening in the world around you, que sera sera.

        This isn’t a ‘you’re okay/I’m better’ piece; and it’s not a ‘woe is me, let me wag a finger in anyone’s direction but mine’ piece. It’s a sad reflection of my home. Criticism is an adversary of love and I love my city; however, I’d love to see more love shown. I’d love to witness positive changes here in my lifetime. I’d love to expect that.

 

         

 

 

 

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