It has been almost two weeks since the trip to New Orleans and I'm still trying to sort it out. To sum up, roughly, some of the superficially encouraging things are disheartening on a deeper level. What's fixed, and what's not fixed, makes me worry that there is som momentum in the direction of the path of least resistance -- to recreate the city Potemkin village for tourists, a hipper version of Vegas. Contrasting the surprising and heartening evidence of recovery visible on a brief visit--most of the restaurants that were staples when I lived there had reopened. On the other hand, as of the end of Feb, 17 % of schools had reopened. Visitors are much likelier to have Zagats in their fannypacks than first graders, so it would be easy to overestimate the level of recovery if you are just passing through.
At the same time, it would be hard not to be disconcerted about what's getting fixed and what's not getting fixed. Seven months after the storm, there are still no working traffic signals at many major intersections. For instance, Napoleon and St. Charles has no signal. On the other hand, New Orleans' first American Apparel store is getting ready to open a few blocks away on Magazine. I realize that Dov Charney is not a traffic engineer, but it is disheartening to see the jersey knit cart this far in front of the infrastructure horse.
I did not have any call to go into the areas of the greatest destruction, and figured that the folks who lived there had as many gawking tourists as they could want, so I can't report on that. But it is not hard to see evidence of destruction. As we flew in, the mosaic of blue tarps put a pit in my stomach. At a lower elevation, the nodules of FEMA trailers testify to the ongoing disruption of people's lives. The trailers are not large, and I cannot imagine what living in one for months would do for your disposition. On Carrolton, there are enormous houses that burned to their masonry foundations. Leaving Uptown on Carrolton, you begin to see the waterline-- which looks just like a dirty bathtub ring. Luckily for visitors, it now takes some effort to imagine everything below that line submerged in filthy water.
I may just be getting old, but it seemed as if the douchetards were out in greater force than ever along Magazine. I do not know if this is a post-storm phenomenon, but there seemed to be a lot of folks in their twenties doing their best to turn sections of Uptown into a more temperate version of Williamsburg. In particular, I saw a young gent from the class of about 2003 in an ironic porkpie sashay out of Slim Goodie's and elbow past an old lady like he was in the forest and she was a branch. I may have been part of a similar phenomenon when I spent much of my twenty third and twenty fourth years there, but I sure hope not.
In sum--go, visit. Eat, drink, spend money, and don't forget to tip your waitress or bartender. They have a jazz festival coming up which is quite well regarded. More important, keep paying attention. There is not anyone whose job it is to fish big chunks of roof out of live oaks, so there the chunks stay. Facing South is one place to check for updates, and generally a force for good. As a reminder, you could get a sticker (pictured above) from these folks. The closest thing to a glue that unites Uptown and the 9th Ward and the rest of the city is the radio station, WWOZ. They can still use your help getting back on a permanent footing, and you can hear your money at work.
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