The thought usually comes somewhere along that endless bridge over the swampland just west of the city, "I don't know when I'm ever going to get back to this place." And then I immediately begin to miss it. Its been over ten years since I left that city and although it was the right thing to do I never quite got over it. Feelings linger in me, waiting for my ears to catch just a snippet of some popular song of that era as a cue to crescendo. (Train's Meet Virginia comes to mind). I would bet its probably like that for a lot of ex-NOLA-lovers.
We stumbled into Snake and Jake's one night. It was years ago already and I don't even remember how we got there. This was during my fearful antisocial years when I needed heavy alcohol to heavily socially lubricate myself. I couldnt recognize it as a bar in my drunkenness. It looked like somebody's burned out garage. In my state it must have looked something like the house of a cartoon witch - deep within a forest of old old oak trees. I flirted heavily with a girl from DC that I didn't find attractive at all and about the only thing I remember was our conversation.
"Dude. Don't move to DC. Ever. Don't do it."
In that cramped space under a number enough strands of christmas lights to violate at least three city codes we talked about how New Orleans was dirty, and how we loved it just for that. How living in New Orleans made you feel connected with people in a way that living in other places did not; Detroit and DC in particular. If you can swing it, New Orleans is a great place to live. I just couldn't swing it. Not when I was 18.
I wonder sometimes now what it would be like to live there at 30. The city is so tiny that you can't help but feel that its your own. Take a walk down any one of those crooked, deserted streets just after the sun goes down and listen for it; the sound of expectation, the anticipation of more noise. It could be any noise. The roll and pop of the streetcar. The bass of a car stereo system passing by. Voices singing. Hours may go by in between these events, but something else will come. Always. Find a seat in some off-the-beaten-path bar after midnight and the cast of characters in it will continue to rotate.
New Orleans is unstoppable. Age hasn't stopped it. Modernization hasn't stopped it. Not even hurricanes have stopped it. Even now the city bounces back with a vengeance. Newly swept and painted streets tell hundred-some-year-old stories from a new perspective. Even the newest blacktop gives way to cobblestone in spots. People still talk to you, even if you are a stranger. This unfaltering spirit is what gives the town such character; sought after like a fountain of youth. Reflecting on it now makes me want to go back. Soon, I hope.
1 comment:
Hell yes, we're going back!!!
Post a Comment