TulaneLSU’s Top 10 French Quarter election in limbo day observations

Dear Friends,

A few days ago one of our friends warned us that the Bohemians were invading our French Quarter. Jim suggested that we defend the ramparts from the marauding hoards, a valiant thought with which I wholeheartedly agree. You see, many of these emigrants are unchurched, and so they will need proper catechesis if they are to participate fully in the life of our city, indeed, in life itself. I discussed the predicament with Mother, explaining to her why the itinerants might be inveigled to our city in this season. She understood, having seen the vicissitudes of our late October skies, which underwent a metamorphosis from hurricane eye to Front Day in the same time Christ was crucified and resurrected from the dead.

Mother prepared for me my finest casual raiments from Myron Goldberg’s, which are all stored in airtight storage. My “street minister attire,” as Mother calls it, consists of a matching pair of Peter Millar’s dark khaki pants and button-up, which alludes to the family’s tartan without being overly garish to mimic it. An N-95 mask and a Jack Victor sports coat finish the outfit, providing warmth on a cool Autumnal morning and a friendly look that helps make my approaching presence pleasant to any street dweller.

To be fair, Mother thought my mission was solely distributing Bibles and Books of Common Prayer and talking to our wayward friends. To be honest, I had more than evangelizing to do today -- I had to get a feel for the newcomers and the old town. Thanks to coronavirus and the heat, I had not spent a full day in the French Quarter since March. How worrisome were the rumors about the Quarter one reads on this site. If one were to believe those bumpkin fables one would believe those blocks were overrun by rats and guntotting delinquents, and yet those streets still found a way to be abandoned.

The reality of the world is often quite different from the internet’s version of the world. While I found the rumors of those awful towns, Seattle and Portland, to be confirmed by visiting them, one could not be farther from the truth about California and the picture painted on TigerDroppings. New Orleans is much maligned here, but it joins New York and San Francisco as one of the three great American cities. Like love amongst the theological virtues, the greatest of these is New Orleans.

In normal times, there is no greater time to visit New Orleans than November. Two decades ago I would have said October, but our weather has so changed that November is the new October. Yesterday was a fine example of the ineffable Fall day in New Orleans. My friends, I wanted to share with you a few of my observations while also inspecting for storm damage, if you would be agreeable to it.

TulaneLSU’s Top 10 French Quarter election in limbo day observations:

10. Halloween decorations are largely gone



Coronavirus and Zeta did a number on our city’s Halloween decorations, necessitating a trip to Fairhope last weekend. An exception to this rule, however, was one Ghostbusters fan in the Quarter. One must assume they brought this entire display inside for the storm or decorated after the storm, because these inflatables were in perfect alignment. The decorator did a fine job with his own custom finishes. Although the Ghostbusters series is grossly overrated and simpleminded, one decorator can tip his hat to another’s fine work regardless of its subject. Although I dislike inflatable decorations, especially for Christmas, it put in my mind an idea about getting the 15’ inflatable Rudolph from Hammacher Schlemmer if Mother would allow it. I have sent HS several letters asking that they sell 15’ inflatable Nativity figures. Every response has been no so far, but I will persist just like the widow seeking justice from the unjust judge.

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I appreciated this plywood Halloween jeremiad, warning those who might consider drinking alcohol that with that act comes crime and death. Friends, this is your body on that drug alcohol.

9. Jude Acers continues to play chess with all comers



Now at 76 years old, one wonders how long we will get to see that familiar red beret on Decatur. I did not expect to see him, partly due to his age and the city’s stance on street performers. His presence confirms my initial understanding that he is not a street performer. I declined playing him this day. You may recall, I last played him in February in a in a hotly contested match that he ultimately won.

8. Bourbon Street and the French Market are remarkably quiet







The best thing about the coronavirus restrictions was the shutdown of bars. No where is this better felt than on Bourbon Street, where there is a notable absence of the inebriated and all the filth that comes with them. The people on Bourbon I met were all sober and friendly. In a different time, I would greet them with a Christian kiss.

The French Market has seldom looked finer. I wish we could turn the Market back into a food market, as it was originally purposed. The trash trinket tables, all selling knock-off sunglasses or made-in-China plastics, appeal to no one. We spent millions to revitalize that market and now is the perfect time to review its essence and future.

7. Street performers are essentially absent





The first weekend of November in New Orleans is almost always beautiful and pleasant. For that reason, the city hosts the annual Poorboy Festival on this weekend. The virus has changed that and there will be no festivals for the foreseeable future. Normally, though, this festival, which if properly managed could one day rival Jazz Fest, and the pleasant weather attract tourists from throughout the world. With the tourists come street performers. New Orleans hosts from late October through Jazz Fest some of the world’s most talented street performers, which I have chronicled elsewhere. Musician, magician, painted man, walking man, ladder man, Transformer man, acrobatics men, fiddler, tap dancer, all were absent. The streets, thus, took on an unfamiliar silence that I enjoyed.