I don't know about you guys but I'm getting rather nauseated with these diatribes:
What does it mean to miss New Orleans? It means knowing that one of the most golden citadels of our shared history - a cradle of multiculturalism, the birthplace of jazz, seed corn of so much that is America - was allowed to die of neglect, disdain, racism, greed and simple stupidity right before our eyes. A city stands where New Orleans once was, but it is not New Orleans, not really. All that was the city, all that it gave this country, and so many of the people who lived there, are gone forever.
Oya! The drama!
How the fuck does Mr. Pitt know what New Orleans really is? I mean, I've been to San Francisco a couple times....but I don't know what it really is. For that matter I've lived in New Orleans for nearly half my life....and I wouldn't be so arrogant as to assume I know what it really is. That's actually one of the things which I love about this city...it's endlessly mysterious.
I'm guessing this nostalgic epitaph was penned more for George W. Bush's mausoleum headstone than my city's. A city which has been here longer than the country itself and will probably be here long after America disintegrates under the weight of Empire.
I just had the opportunity of playing tour guide to a young lady from my little hometown who is passionate about moving to New Orleans. I can't tell you the pleasure I got from watching her eyes light up as we roamed the streets (which were packed mind you) of this city and met the amazing folks who make NOLA home for me. She comes from an area where racism is still pervasive (in ways a metropolitan area can't imagine), and freedom of thought and expression is comprised of which flavor of Jesus you prefer to shove down people's throats (not that I have any issues with J.C....its his fan club I detest). She made me feel like I was watching myself 20 years ago when I was first introduced to New Orleans. I realized that I still feel as passionate about this city now as I did then, maybe even more.
So to come off that weekend, and read an epitaph for New Orleans...well...forgive me if that donut is a little hard to swallow.
Mr. Pitt: We are here. We are very much alive. We are still New Orleans.