The Big Easy... ain't that easy!

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I'm just back from a few days at a meeting in New Orleans. The meeting was at a hotel a few blocks away from the French Quarter. We were there a few years before Katrina hit. We did the typical tourist things - toured the graveyards, ate in amazing restaurants and listened to the best live jazz I've ever heard in my life by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. On this trip, I didn't see any of the tourist attractions beyond Bourbon Street. I do recall Bourbon Street being a bit racy - but this time, it was actually seedy.

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There were nine of us walking down Bourbon the first night. We were in hunt of a nice place for dinner. We passed about six strip clubs with scantily clad women hanging out in the doorways and barkers (men) trying to convince passers-by to enter. "No cover charge!" There were also significantly more places selling alcohol - not just bars, but booths. I guess this shouldn't surprise me so much, but I also noticed that there were very few women walking around. We'd pass an occasional group of women, but for the most part the streets were filled with businessmen and college students.

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We found a few places to listen to loud music and have a few drinks, but alcohol and noise were not enough to help me escape the thoughts of how race and class play in the rebuilding of that city.

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As usual, I was able to find some joy in the here and now (kind of a tenet in my life). This is a coworker and I up on a balcony enjoying an adult beverage. Notice my beads. I earned them baby! The hard way. (Yes, of COURSE I'm kidding).