Folks from New Orleans will tell you, this is a city full of hustlers. Whoever you meet, whatever they're doing, there's probably a little something extra going on, a little cachet for those who keep an eye open for just the right angle. And the thing is, it's one of the qualities that's most endearing about this place. There's a sort of laid-back, cheerful opportunism that stands in stark contrast to the cutthroat, all-or-nothing approach of a place like New York, or the by-the-books social climbing attitude of Washington, DC. This is a world where a Congressman who's getting a little on the side -- of whatever it is he's into -- well, he's looking out for himself & ain't nothin' wrong with that.
But in a city full of hyper-intelligent, smooth-taking, basically good-natured people, what's the right way to frame what's going on right now? What's the best pitch to hustle up a new infrastructure, fill the empty homes, jumpstart an economy that's running on dwindling handouts? For every blog, for every newspaper, and for every presidential candidate there's a different approach. "New Orleans is still drowning! Send help!" "Everything is fine now! Come home!" "Murder central! We need more resources!" "Unbelievable opportunity! Better than ever!"
The thing is, all of those voices are speaking the truth. I am living in a city where it's not a particular problem to get a nonfat mocha latte at three in the morning -- or, for that matter, skip the coffee and go do my laundry, eat a burger and listen to an amazing live local jazz band all under the same roof. But to get there, you have to drive carefully down streets where the one-way signs still aren't up, the pavement isn't always down, and many of the homes are still be boarded up, "For Sale" signs starting to fade. It's easy to meet new people, but there's an acute sense that someone else is missing.
Cutting through it all is the sensation of a quarter-million people holding their breath, waiting out yet another hurricane season, wondering if somewhere between breaking promises and deadlines the Army Corps ever got around to fixing whatever went wrong the first time. Sometimes I think the best thing that could possibly happen to the Gulf Coast would be for New Orleans to get hit by -- and emerge totally unscathed from -- a nice little Category 1 storm. Just something to establish that we're not all living in a time bomb.
All around, I do see signs of progress. Street lights are mostly up, stop lights usually work, and some hospitals and schools are open -- enough to make things functional, enough to get by...and just enough that visitors seem a little disappointed when we tour a still-ravaged neighborhood and the very worst of the damage -- the type that makes for good television -- has been largely cleared away. The firetrap houses have gone up in flames, the houses that collapsed into the street have been bulldozed, and the miles of abandoned cars have been towed. Hell is somehow intriguing. Despair and depopulation are a tougher sell.
On this anniversary day I just want to get a single message out -- all those other stories are completely, totally true. Every single one. Racism is rampant. The prison system is in shambles and the schools aren't much better. The wetlands are being destroyed. More money would help. Much of the money already allocated was spent improperly. There is corruption in Louisiana government. Some folks are trying to fix that. The streets still flood after thunderstorms. We lose electricity once in a while. Things here get better every day. There's a long way to go. It is an inspiring place to live. The Saints are shaping up for a great season. Some places still reek of mold. The music scene is going strong. You can get chicory coffee and beignets just like old times. Some things are gone forever. This is a world where strangers speak to each other with rare honesty and insight.
Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes. It's all true. This is a hard, weird, mixed up, beautiful place -- full of hope, where prosperity and strife can be found within every interaction, infused with a fundamental belief in the city itself, creating a bittersweet elegance found nowhere else.
Most of all, yes, absolutely, unequivocally yes, this is a place worth saving, a place worth visiting, and a place that needs and appreciates your support. This is a place worth defying the very worst of the elements for. It is a place like none other, and for all its faults, there is nowhere else on earth I'd want to be right now.