Nola

"Individuality is Vulnerable to the Prerogatives of the Institution" -David Simon.

This is a vulnerable place.
It' s the quiet that I love about New Orleans. There is a perception of Bourbon Street that many have as representing New Orleans; it certainly is what brings people here; not unlike parts of North Beach on a Friday night in San Francisco. You can take it or leave it. I'm happy to leave this for others.
Much of New Orleans, all that is good and bad, shodden, or shiny, graceful or abrupt is not hidden but for all to see. Compressed streets, the urban setting, mismatched decor and its mismatched people crash together to be uniquely only in Nola. Away from the madness of upper Bourbon, at twilight or in the evening are moments that I love. Walking down quiet streets (even in the French Quarter, residential) where homes stand of different colors and structure, blue and white lights impersonate gas lanterns. You might hear the sounds of footsteps, an occasional purr of electricity and laughter in the distance- broken by a dark figure who emerges from the shadow of a doorway, looks into your eyes, and says, "hello" or "how ya doing?"
A bit surprised, you respond, cheered by the turn of thoughts, then stumble into cracked pavement. Your ankle recovers, and you continue. The glow of light, the odd conversations you may have on a daily basis, the tiny threat of menace that keeps you focused on the moment, a drive to Esplanade Ridge, Magazine or Dancing at Mid City Lanes, to the mighty brass bands and R&B legends, Big Chiefs and Spyboys, relaxing in Dooky Chase, or Hansen's on a sweltering day, the St. Charles streetcar by night, residents rebuilding in the Lower Ninth, Frenchmen Street, Kermit Ruffins anywhere anytime....
The loss of an arm. The betrayal of family. How we as Americans help this most American of cities will help us determine who we are, and who we can be. I need Nola for all the kindness she has given to me, and for the hope that we as a society really care for our brothers and sisters, and that those that stand uniquely do not do so alone. If this conflicts with my opening line, then this is symbolic of New Orleans: in conflict, at the crossroads.