NEW ORLEANS

New Orleans is a city without straight lines.  It’s America’s last urban throwback.  Down every street, around each corner, lie things that aren’t quite right—-just a little off.  The word is “funky.”  The corporate brands of other cities, which we pass without noticing—-the Kmarts, Dominoes, Best Buys—-are virtually absent from the city’s heart.  Instead are the Italian Grocery, Hats at Myers, Acme’s Oyster House, and so many other independent ventures.

Some years ago my son, Ben, who has three venues in New Orleans, invited me to strap myself onto a float in a Mardi Gras parade through the city (throwing forty pounds of beads).  Miles of people with their hands up.  The entire city, plus a million from away, celebrate for weeks as the merriment reaches it’s apex on Fat Tuesday. Trying to grab the perfect shot, as the cavalcade of crazy people in all costumes and temper race by, is like trying to catch a lightning bug.