In skating over thin ice our safety is in our speed.
—-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Skater, French Quarter, New Orleans
There is more to life than increasing its speed.
—-Mahatma Gandhi
America is all about speed. Hot, nasty, badass speed.
—-Will Ferrell
If everything seems under control, you’re not going fast enough.
—-Mario Andretti
French Quarter, New Orleans
“Louisiana in September was like an obscene phone call from nature. The air–moist, sultry, secretive, and far from fresh–felt as if it were being exhaled into one’s face. Sometimes it even sounded like heavy breathing. Honeysuckle, swamp flowers, magnolia, and the mystery smell of the river scented the atmosphere, amplifying the intrusion of organic sleaze. It was aphrodisiac and repressive, soft and violent at the same time. In New Orleans, in the French Quarter, miles from the barking lungs of alligators, the air maintained this quality of breath, although here it acquired a tinge of metallic halitosis, due to fumes expelled by tourist buses, trucks delivering Dixie beer, and, on Decatur Street, a mass-transit motor coach named Desire.”
― Tom Robbins,
A cute couple.
On the way home from the store with a bag of Miller High Life.
Even a tattooed hipster wearing crazy clothes on a skateboard in one of the coolest spots on earth can have bad taste in beer.
Logically, when you talkin’ about folk music and blues, you find out it’s music of just plain people.
—-Brownie McGhee
An F hole tattoo – A perfect back tattoo for a washtub string bass (sometimes called a gutbucket bass) player in a street band in the French Quarter.
Back Tattoo in a street band.
Playing the Gutbucket Bass and the Washboard.
My idea of heaven is a place where the Tyne meets the Delta, where folk music meets the blues
—-Mark Knopfler
Le Violon d’Ingres (Ingres’s Violin)
Man Ray
American, 1924
Gelatin silver print
“You know when I’m down to my socks it’s time for business
That’s why they’re called business socks
It’s business, it’s business time”
―— Flight of the Conchords
Halloween, French Quarter, New Orleans
Tabasco, Crystal, or Louisiana
I don’t think there is such a thing as too much hot sauce, but this guy will disagree. Not even the cool Mardi Gras beads could protect him.
Notice he has all three of the Louisiana Hot Sauces… the Holy Trinity: Tabasco, Crystal, and Louisiana (Red Dot) Brand on the table in front of him. No establishment should have less.
But that means you have to choose. Life is full of tough decisions. Though I have great respect for Tabasco, and like the Red Dot, I am a Crystal man myself.
Decatur Street, New Orleans, Halloween, 2012
I knew a queen of toil with a crown of silver hair.
Garland of valour and sorrow, of beauty and renown…
—-Robert Louis Stevenson
Yeah, I know the Stevenson poem is about age… and the woman in the photo isn’t old. I still like the crown of silver hair… even if the queen of toil is stumbling through the French Quarter desperately clutching a to-go cup half-filled with some vile alcoholic fruit punch.
Nice boots.
Banjo Player on Royal Street in the French Quarter, New Orleans
(Click for a larger and more detailed image on Flickr)
I only had a dollar left
and I gave it to the
Beautiful Girl
Playing the Banjo
on Royal and singing a simple sweet country tune.
My little dollar joined the sparse cluster of crumpled green in her banjo case on the sidewalk
– I saw there was a kazoo in there too
What else is there to spend your last dollar on?
Except for bus fare home. So it looks like a long walk on some sore and tired feet.
I wanted to take her picture and I didn’t want to do that without leaving at least a dollar.
I would have left more, but, like I said, that was my last. I wonder if it would mean anything to her – the banjo playing girl – if she knew it was my last dollar?
In the St. Louis Cemetery #1 there is a vault that was donated and is dedicated to the musicians of New Orleans that can’t afford to pay for their own burial.
Banjo Player on Royal Street, French Quarter, New Orleans
(Click for a larger and more detailed version on Flickr)
Writing in my Moleskine Journal outside the Mojo Lounge, Decatur Street, French Quarter, New Orleans
(Click for a larger and more detailed version on Flickr)
Plaque on the Musician’s Tomb, Saint Louis Cemetery #1, New Orleans.
It was such a nice day to be walking around the French Quarter. Not much more than a block down Royal Street from the Nola Jitterbugs was another band playing in the street. These folks were playing the real thing, the traditional New Orleans Jazz. It was Doreen Ketchens and her band, Doreen’s Jazz New Orleans. They were very good.
New Orleans is Culture. New Orleans is Architecture. New Orleans is Food. But more than anything, New Orleans is Music… Live Music.
Jazz is the one true American art form. Jazz was born in New Orleans.
At any time of any day or night you can hear live music in New Orleans. You can see dancing.
Even Jitterbugs in the French Quarter.
Dancers – Chance Bushman and Giselle Anguizola
Music – Loose Marbles
I love the wrought iron railings throughout the French Quarter. They are beautiful even when they are not crowded with Mardi Gras crowds showering topless women with cheap plastic beads. Most of the balconies are decorated – many with tacky sports stuff – but some are particularly attractive with loads of live plants.
Something you see in tropical climates is the idea of a shaded green interior plaza or atrium with a water feature. The water and plants add a coolness, making the mid day heat almost bearable and the rest of the day delightful. These are wonderful and usually hidden living spots.
A bare balcony showing off the beauty of the elaborate wrought iron.
New Orleans is the most original of all American Cities. The French Quarter has become a tourist Mecca, but in the mornings it still feels like the natural heart of the city.
Bill Chance 