Neurotic Neologisms Nicole Lee’s random sputterings

New Orleans Memories

Recent turn of events have made me reminisce about my time in New Orleans some years back, and I’m now so glad that I was able to visit it when it was still hot and humid, without a drop of rain in sight. It was about seven years ago that I first made my trek there, and it was during a time of summer romance, when I was in a deep affair with a now-ex. New Orleans was almost the perfect setting for it — I still remember Lake Ponchatrain, and how it seemed so vast, as if it were the ocean. We sat on the bank, and let the wind whip around us, relieving us however momentarily from the humid afternoon sun. I could see how Tennessee Williams thought of classics like A Streetcar Named Desire there (I remember actually seeing such a streetcar, though I can’t recall if its name was Desire); sweat-drenched Stanley, yelling out for Stella, his loins afire with lust — it was hot and heady stuff, much like the city itself.

Yet, New Orleans never did seem like a city to me. It felt like it was from another time, another world. Walking down the French Quarter felt like a time portal, like I had stepped into a world that did not know the meaning of the word skyscraper or industrial. The old world feel was accented by trotting horses on carriage, streetside fortune tellers, and the ever-omnipresence of live jazz musicians strutting their stuff. And at night, New Orleans leapt to life, with neon lights aplenty and the cool breeze forcing people out into the streets, as they hop from bar to bar, and revel in the enjoyment of spirits. This was a party town, no doubt about it. And let’s not forget about the food! Goodness, the food! Gumbo, jambalaya, cajun cuisine, fresh beignets covered in powdered sugar — oh, it was so sinful and so delightful. The play of cuisine, culture, and old world Southern charm, is the heart of what makes this town one of the most romantic places on Earth. And I was glad to have spent the four or so months there during my inaugaral year in this country.

All of which is why it made my heart completely sink when I saw what Hurricane Katrina wrought. My instinct made me reach immediately for what I could donate, for what I could do. I gave whatever I could (and I urge you to do the same), and now I sit here and wait, hoping that the romance will once again return to the Big Easy.

I was just Stumble-ing around the net, blogs in particular and yours caught my eye. I really enjoyed reading your post on New Orleans, especially because the way it is written, I can see that you were seeing it in your mind and heart when you wrote it. It is sad that a tragedy like this occured…but it is with the spirit of remembrance, like you posted here, that may help New Orleans rise again, like a phoenix from the ashes…once the waters are removed. I hope so, I have always wanted to go there…havenèt yet. It was nice that I got to visit there, sorta, for five minutes while reading your post. Thanks for that. Take care.

The streetcar you saw was the St. Charles one, longest running streetcar line in the US I believe. As for the streetcar named Desire, we stood on the corner and stared at a bus with the sign “81 DESIRE” as it took a while to register what it meant… A Streetcar Named Desire was now a bus.

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