March 31, 2004

• News from N'Arlens

  
  

  I'm in New Orleans for the first time.  It's a business trip but one can't work all waking hours (right Faith?).  The convention and our hotel are about four blocks from Bourbon street which puts us right on the edge of the French Quarter.  Last evening we ate at a nationally renowned restaurant (at least according to their menu), Galatoire's, located in Vieux Carre, right on Bourbon St. They required men to wear jackets which required my companions and me to select from a rack of jackets, each with undoubtable dubious history.  I couldn't find one that fit properly about my...er...shoulders, the closest one being a light tan checkered striped affair.  My colleague surmised my look as a down-and-out used car salesman.  The nine people in our group crowded around a table for six in the center of the room and spent the next hour ducking the bustling waiters as they not so cleverly hid their irritation at our butts being in their way.  The food was great!  I had to have most items passed too me, even the bread which was right in front of my plate because the jacket prevented me from extending my arms to full length.  Ah well, another memory for the scrap book.  A mere $40 a piece got us safely back out on Bourbon St.

  
  

  Being the product of American culture of the past 50 years, I have a very vivid image of New Orleans.  When I think of New Orleans, I think of Bourbon St.  When I think of Bourbon St. I think of ornate balconies, bistros, and smoky bars, with aged black men hunched over their instrument drawing out sounds that originate in their souls.  Well, what I found on Bourbon street was;  balconies, many ornate, some plain, most packed with young men shouting at passing women to flash their breasts; there were many bistros and smoky bars, but I never saw a wisened, distinguished black man in any of them.  Many bands were playing but, the music was rock and country-rock; my kind of music but, not what I was expecting.  The other attribute of Bourbon St. that doesn't make the broader cast image is the seedy fixation on anything sex.  Most bars had bouncers whose secondary duty was to draw in customers with shouts like, " Heh, fellas we got girls with big ..."  There were "barely legal babes", shadows of naked women dancing behind blinds, mechanical girl leg swinging out from the side of a building (clever), hooker-dressed women standing in doorways, etc.  There was, however, a strange mix of other enterprises as well; small restaurants, souvenir shops, and regular bar and grills.  People occupied the sidewalks and street and even on a Tuesday evening there was a carefree, party atmosphere.

  
  

  So my Bourbon St. experience amounted to a slow stroll from one end of the "bar" section to the other and back again, with a couple pauses to see if the guys on the balcony would be successful in their pleading for an exposed breast, and a brief pee stop in one of the bars (required a purchase of a beer which we were allowed to carry down the street). I was back in my room by 10:00pm watching a Law and Order rerun.

  
  

  Of course there is plenty of other unique attractions in the bayou city but I'll have to leave these for another time.  I recommend a visit to Bourbon St, at least once, like I recommend people in my home area to attend at least one county fair.  Don't take the kids after dark.

  • 4:48 pm
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