I live on Pauline St. in the Bywater neighborhood of New Orleans. I ride my bike a lot. If I ride two blocks down Pauline St., toward the Mississippi River, to Royal St., turn right and go another six blocks I'll find myself at Markey's. I guess in the end it's just a neighborhood bar, but Markey's has impressed me as being a much more. I go there a whole lot. Sometimes maybe too much. In fact I want to go right now. Later. It is probably the coolest bar I've ever been too or frequented. And not because it tries to be, just kind of an unassuming place. When I have to go back to Lexington, I wish i could take Markey's with me. There's a whole lot of reasons why, i.e. free pool and the shuffle board. Cheap beer (two dollar high lifes). The Saints games are really fun to go to, even if the Saints aren't doing well. All kinds of people from the neighborhood come out and boo or cheer or curse, but it's all together. I don't suppose that's too different from any other neighborhood sports-ish type bar. More reasons: People are always playing good music on the jukebox. One night I was in there and the jukebox started with some Hank Williams went on to some Johnny Cash then to the Misfits (I think) and ended up with some ODB. Maybe that's called an eclectic mix, I call it good taste. Markey's is a tiny tiny place, kind of a hole in the wall, but has five or six brand new flat screen televisions, thirty six inch televisions. I was pretty shocked by that the first time I went there, seemed almost like an oxymoron. Those tv's make the Saints games more fun to watch. Plus Markey's has a reasonably priced kitchen. It's pretty good too. This is what going to Markey's feels like: "more like you've stopped at a friend's house for a few drinks and good conversation rather than a night out on the town (1)." That's really corny.
Over my few months of being a semi-New Orleanian, the strongest appeal of Markey's to me is and has been the Cheer's factor. Sometimes you really do want to go where everybody knows your name. Most people in Markey's at any given time seem to know, or at least recognize, most other people. The bar's demographic itself seems to be primarily transplants, much like I am, but less like me in the sense that, while I'll be leaving mid-December, they have started lives down here in New Orleans, specifically in the Bywater. Markey's by it's nature, by definition, fosters a sense of community in the neighborhood. People congregate there, frequent there, meet there, a sort of networking place--not corporate networking but neighborly networking. I feel like this fact is especially important for transplants. Markey's provides a place to be for the neighborhood, almost as a confirmation of residency. It's comfortable. If you're known at Markey's you're part of the neighborhood. Native New Orleanians already have that state of residency and being established have less need for a place like Markey's to latch on to. (This is not to say that there are no natives there or that natives don't need a place to congregate) Transplants do not. Native residents have legitimacy in New Orleans. Markey's provides a degree of legitimacy to people who are transplants. The legitimization of transplants is an active side effect of the Cheer's factor. The Cheer's factor makes you feel like more of a New Orleanian. I don't know if people realize this, or even if its true for transplants in general, but this has been the case for me. And it seems like its been the case for most people.
Frequenting Markey's, and the diversity of people in the neighborhood (mainly due to origin and/or occupation) means I've met a whole lot of different people there. I've met the bartenders. I don't guess I could speculate as to whether or not they know me seems like most of them do. I kind of had a crush on one of them when I first got down here to New Orleans. Her name is Lisa, but I'm pretty sure she's got a boyfriend. One of the guys I've seen there a couple of times calls me Kentucky. I don't think he remembers my name; actually I think he sporadically remembers my name. I didn't know his name for a while either so it doesn't really matter. It's Tom. But I do know I like being referred to as Kentucky, very much so. What is interesting about all of this though is the fact that after you become established, i.e. a regular, people readily accept you and talk to you about anything, from where they are from to the nature of exploding trash piles to the regularity of their sexual life. I figured out that the biggest factor in you being considered a regular is recognition by the bartenders. If they know your name or are familiar with you, you win. Immediately other people also recognize you as being a regular. This seems almost synonymous with being considered, or at least part of becoming, an equal member of the neighborhood.
At Markey's most people have a distinct readiness to engage in conversation. “But the greatest love - the love above all loves, Even greater than that of a mother - Is the tender, passionate, undying love, Of one beer drunken slob for another (2)”--Irish proverb, true. Which is why my methodology can be very simple. It's nothing crazy or new but it works. The key is frequency or maybe consistency, and beer. Each time I go, I walk in to Markey's, sit down at the closest available seat, wait for whoever is bartending and order a Miller High Life draft. Three bucks on the counter and wait. Without fail by the end of that beer a conversation will have started between me and the person/people next to me. People are very talkative and friendly there. I could say people do that to reach out. But I don't think that is actually why. It's a neighborhood bar. People are trying to be neighbors. If people see you around they begin to feel like you are a neighbor as opposed to an outsider. As I said earlier, if people there recognize you, i.e. the bartenders, everyone else will recognize you. For example tonight I met a man named John. I sat down and he saw Lisa, the bartender, wave at me. I assumed that he assumed I was a neighborhood person, and a regular at Markey's (which was further validated when Chris, a contractor in the neighborhood, and Tom, "Detroit", sat down and talked to us, recognizing me, and both coming to Markey's fairly regularly).
John and I started talking about the game, Navy vs. Pitt. It was a predominately offensive game, that was an icebreaker. After a beer or two more, we began a legitimate conversation. Most conversations in that bar begin with where you're from. He told me, "I'm a Steelers fan too, so I"m glad Pitt. is runnin this offense right now." So I asked him if he was from Pittsburgh. "Na man I'm from New York, not the city but a little bit outside." His wife is from Pittsburgh, now he's down here with his wife running a small bed and breakfast on Poland. After the conversation became comfortable, familiar, I tried to pull Markey's itself into the equation. That was the point of me going there in the first place. We started to talk about the neighborhood, i.e. how people "hide their wealth, so other people don't know." "Man I'm a carpenter by trade. And you'll see these houses that look like shit. But when you go inside they're beautiful. I work in the neighborhood. I'm not trying to get rich. People know me and I know they'll pay me." I said that that was the way Markey's seems to me. It's all a matter of neighborly courtesy and friendliness. One thing he said specifically about Markey's was that it's the same way as those houses. What they are inside is different from how they appear outside (especially before Markey's got that nice red paint job).
I guess what I've come to realize talking to him and others, the stories themselves being fantastic byproducts, is that Markey's and neighborhood bars in general act as a neighborhood forum. They provide an essential function for the sense of overall community. John said "New Orleans is a neighborhood place. Bywater is relaxed place. Shit happens here like it does anywhere in the city but people kinda tend to look out for people here." The neighborhood bar is a place for people in the neighborhood to congregate in a "relaxed" setting and create neighborly bonds which leads to people looking out for each other. He told me that when he and his wife first moved down here "you know, our neighbors came over with a bottle of champagne. They gave us that as a gift and then invited us over for dinner. And, you know, this is before the hurricane. They thanked us for being on the street and trying to keep this bed and breakfast going, even though there's no breakfast anymore."
When I tried to research neighborhood bars in general, I found that research focused predominately on "problem drinking". They're researchers so I suppose they know better than I do. "After accounting for one's education level, income, race, and neighborhood sociodemographic characteristics, we found that a higher number of minor-restricted establishments located within one mile from someone's home is associated with that person's higher likelihood of consuming excess alcohol (3)." I guess all that research says is that I'm more likely to stop and have a beer near my house than across town, and so close I don't have to drive to get there so I might go more frequently.
As an aside, this guy Dave, who I see there fairly regularly, told me a story about his ex-wife who threw a bag of trash on a bonfire they were having back in NC. The trash exploded. It caught one of his friends on fire and scratched up a brand new Grand Am really bad. You can't make that up, good story. There was more to it than that but I can't really remember it.
I got to the bar around 8:50 a.m. on Tuesday the sixth. Roy, Markey's owner, came over from his house which is directly across the street, rather convenient for him. I can't say I'm not jealous of Roy's set up: running a nice small bar, house across the street, decent patrons who don't mess with his house. Roy wins. I was outside smoking a cigarette, overcast, when he walked over with his binder in hand. Roy kind of walks with a lean. We sat down at the far end of the bar and began the interview, my 9 a.m. beer in hand. Thank goodness for tape recorders. Bar's have a completely different presence in the morning with no one there and the lights on, chairs up, quiet. I guess that's an obvious statement.
I started off by asking him about the history of the bar.
"At the turn of the century it was a transient bar. And at one point in time Standard Brewing Company owned it. Then my Great Uncle Joe bought it. In regards to Mickey (Markey), Mickey died when he was forty, my Dad's older brother. All of them worked here at one point in time or another."
"So it's been in the family since '47?"
"Since '47, yeah."
"When did you come into it."
"I started working here in ah probably '73 in high school. I came here to work in the summertime. Of course I looked older. I was able to tend bar in the day time and stuff like that. But uh, in '75 I graduated from highschool. I was here pretty much full time after that. Then my dad retired in '91 and that's when I actually took over in '92."
"The paper I'm writing is about the role of Markey's in the neighborhood."
"It's changed so much over the years. When I first came to work here, we used to open at six in the morning and close at ten at night. It was predominately men, riverfront employees essentially, longshoremen, clerks, seamen. LIke I said predominately all men, daytime and afternoon. We used to close at ten. Six a.m. buddy they were here. We also had a lot of seamen. The place next door which is the Country Club now, used to be a boarding house. Had a lot of Spanish people come back then too, from Honduras. They used to work the standard fruit, banana fruit. They used to have banana wharfs out here. And a lot of them, you know, would stay there. And my Uncle would help them send money back home to them. A lot of them didn't speak English. Things of that nature. You know, a lot of mix, but predominately all riverfront related. And then uh, trying to think of what year it was, late '70's I would say, is when they pretty much shut most of the wharfs down and moved everything uptown. And that was also, too, the result of containerized cargo. Once they containerized everything these wharfs were too narrow for containerized cargo. So we pretty much had to reinvent ourselves, so to speak. I mean we still had some of that business. But it was no where like what it was. So, so I started working at night. First we started staying open until midnight. As time went on, you know, it just gradually became more of a neighborhood bar rather than a riverfront bar. So I mean. For years my dad insisted on opening at six a.m., a creature of habit, that sort of thing you know. But eventually we started opening a little later as he got a little older. First we went to eight o'clock, then ten o'clock and at one point we actually started opening up in the afternoon."
"'Cause not enough people coming in?"
"Well also too, things changed. Even back [some] road, people that were working there couldn't drink, 'cause if you got in any sort of accident the first thing they'd do, used to call it the spit box like they did the horses. If you get in an accident you gotta pee, and if you're intoxicated you could lose your job and what have you. So whatever really activity we had in the area as far as work oriented, working people here during the day time, just wouldn't change the way things were done. People just couldn't drink in the daylight like you used to anymore. So we went to mid afternoon. That's when we really, truly became more of a neighborhood bar, over that course of time."
At this point we move to a table next to the pool table, our spot was about to get the Tuesday morning mop.
"I know ya'll have recently put in some cameras and flat screen tv's and other things, would that be in the same line as becoming a neighborhood bar, kind of keeping up with that move?"
"Well yeah, you know, this whole process started a long time ago. I mean you know, Christ, before we had cable tv we had one television in the bar. And then when we got cable in the '80's, I mean, it's just something that sports, to a degree that bars, you know, it just wasn't there. Sports on tv then was an occasional horse race on the weekend, football games of course, and Friday night fights and stuff like that, whatever the network was showing. When cable got here, everybody became a Cubs fan because we got WGN. Stuff like that. So then you know, you start adding tvs, add one here and add one there. Then with the advent of technology and everything, with the programming being what it is. I did the satellite thing in the mid-'80s. I remember the fact that I got the first dish. It was a real big one. Every bar from the lower Esplanade came trying to find out where I got my dish from. Gradually branched out from there. And then last year with the Saints doing well and all after Katrina. And everybody was all pumped up. So I went in and got the LCD tvs, in the latter part, well at little past halfway through the season. And it really made a huge difference. People came in and watched Saints games. You could almost say it's a sports bar in that way, but I don't look at it like that. Some think it's an Irish pub, but I don't look at it that way either. It's a neighborhood bar to me, that's all I've ever tried to make it."
"I come here pretty often and I've notice that a lot of the people I meet aren't from New Orleans."
"And you're correct. I'd be venturing at a guess here, but I'd be willing to say that probably, they all live here of course; I'd be willing to bet that probably 70% of the clientele I have right now are transplants from other places. And I think a lot of that's to do with the neighborhood...Prior to Katrina the Bywater was a very affordable place. Close to the French Quater. I equate to Soho in New York before it went yuppee. The crowd's gotten so diverse, with so many new faces since Katrina, but primarily you're right. Most people are not indigenous to New Orleans."
"Could you venture a guess as to why a lot of the people who aren't from New Orleans come to this bar."
"Well, I don't know. I think we're fairly reasonable price wise...shuffle board, until recently a free pool table, like I said the sports programming is available. A lot of changes, we went to an internet juke box. And prior to that we had a regular cd box and I controlled most of the stuff that was on there, not that I did it, the bartenders and customers had input. This internet thing is new. It offers you so much more variety, that's why I went to it. So many different tastes out there. I credit my employees immensely for that. I've got a real good staff of bartenders. They do a really good job. And I think when people come in, it doesn't take long for them to feel rather comfortable. As opposed to sometimes at other places you don't get that. And once again I think the staff have a lot to do with that as well. Also too, I kind of pride myself, there's no gimmicks. I'm not a gimmicky person. I think that that laid back approach helps. I just don't like the pressure. You come in and you make of it what you want. You play shuffle board, you play pool, watch sports, throw some darts. Everybody's got they're own niche."
I've noticed that comfort factor. What the interview showed me is the evolution of Markey's. Over time Markey's has adapted to the needs of it's environment, i.e. from primarily wharf workers and seamen to the neighborhood residents in the Bywater right now. Seems like the goal of Markey's, and I think successfully accomplished, is offering a comfortable place for people in the neighborhood to go kick back, take a load off, which I think I'm going to do here in about five minutes. I don't exactly know how to describe it, but as an illustration: a couple of Mondays ago I went to Markey's to play some pool with my roommate Bob and a couple other kids from class. When we got in the bar it was about midnight; there were three people and the bartender. I got a beer and we started playing pool. A little bit later Bob said to me "Man, if this were any other bar this would be awkward as hell." He's right. Markey's is just comfortable.
I tried to research Markey's. There's not a whole lot written on it that I've found. I did find this: "These days the only thing Irish about Markey’s is the Pogues on the jukebox...Today it’s a mix of young hip service industry workers from the neighborhood and carpenters in sleeveless t-shirts, their girlfriends in feathered hair and sweat pants with their brastraps showing. It’s not as flashy as Mimi’s, not as underground cool as the Saturn, not as definitively ninth ward, or as depressing, as BJ’s or Vaughns (4)." And those are all reasons why I like it.
1. Lawrence, Julie. "Circa Succeeds as Cozy Neighborhood Bar." Milwaukee's Daily Magazine. Nov. 27, 2007. http://www.onmilwaukee.com/bars/ articles/circabar.html
2. Irish Proverb, http://thinkexist.com/quotes/with/keyword/beer
3. Vieira, Carol. "Heavy Drinking Associated With Local Bars But Not Liquor Stores." Nov. 15, 2007. http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/ 88857.php
4. Christian. "Markey's Bar" Dirty South Bureau. (blog). July 24, 2006. http://roselund.com/2006/07/24/markeys-bar
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
6
I've been trying to interview the owner of Markey's, Roy, for a little while now, actually since last Thursday. He's kind of hard man to catch. I guess if I were the owner of a bar I would be too. Most of the times I tried to get to him at Markey's, before I met him on Sunday, either he was out on errands or the bartenders had no idea at all where he was. Busy man. Bills to pay, a bar to run and all in New Orleans. This is a hard city to stay on time in. I'm not bent out of shape or anything. Actually, I'd probably do the same thing in his situation. Some random kid (although he figured out pretty immediately that I am from the University of Kentucky) trying to interview him about Markey's. Doesn't really make much sense at first glance. Hence the necessity of an interview.
Interviews are a lot harder to come by than I thought, very much a trial and error situation. Not to the extent that one party is being offended by the other's absence, more along the lines of people have a lot of stuff to take care of in business and life, i.e. today when called Roy he told me he was taking his daughter trick or treating tonight. You've got to do what you've got to do. In other words, you try to set up the interview on Sunday for Monday, fine. Monday rolls around and things have come up or the interviewee has completely forgotten. No hard feelings, just how things work sometimes. The only thing to get around such obstacles as bad memory and conflicting schedules is persistence.
On Sunday I finally caught Roy while he was at the bar watching the New Orleans Saints game against San Fransisco. The bar was packed. I knew, from one of the bartenders, that he always, without a doubt, watched Saints games at Markey's. Towards the end of the first half I found him. While he was walking through, I asked him about the interview. He responded in a very jovial, friendly way. Interview Monday at 1 p.m.
Monday at 1 p.m.: I get to Markey's and grab a seat at the bar, High Life draft. A half hour rolls by and no sign of him, another High Life draft. I asked the bartender, Lisa, when he was supposed to be in. He was out on errands, who knew, kind of a come and go sort of guy. I sat and watched tv with the five or so other people in the bar. The 10 Creepiest Places to Visit on the Travel Channel. I will say though, watching tv with the rest of the neighborhood is more entertaining and beneficial than by yourself. You might be talking about the validity of the belief in ghosts, but that simple act is a bonding agent. A little past 3 p.m., after the creepiest place turned out to be some plush hotel in Southern California (not creepy), he shows up with a scoop and other bar items in hand. He sincerely apologized. Had a lot to drink the night before, the Saints won their third straight and the Red Sox won the series in the fourth game--lot to drink about. He said, "Man I drank so much last night, I couldn't swallow when I woke up." Next time, Tuesday 1 p.m.
Tuesday at 1 p.m.: Similar situation, I showed up grabbed a seat and a beer and waited. After a while tv sucks you in. The bartender, this time Corinne, had on the Travel Channel again only this time the show was about vacation homes out West called "earthships". It's really easy to make light of the Travel Channel and as you can imagine jokes ensued and friendships were made. Strangely enough the Travel Channel also becomes more entertaining as the time passes. 3 p.m. rolls around. I ask about Roy, the bartender had no idea.
Wednesday 3 p.m.: I made another attempt. Same story, only this time the conversation was about Halloween costumes and how the news said sex offenders were being rounded up for "victim empathy" classes tonight so as not to prey on the unsuspecting. Lisa offered his number to me. I call him, he answers in his friendly way. No can do, taking his daughter trick or treating. I'm not complaining, it be very weird, wrong, if he passed up his daughter for an interview with me. New meeting time, Thursday 9 a.m.
Interviews are a lot harder to come by than I thought, very much a trial and error situation. Not to the extent that one party is being offended by the other's absence, more along the lines of people have a lot of stuff to take care of in business and life, i.e. today when called Roy he told me he was taking his daughter trick or treating tonight. You've got to do what you've got to do. In other words, you try to set up the interview on Sunday for Monday, fine. Monday rolls around and things have come up or the interviewee has completely forgotten. No hard feelings, just how things work sometimes. The only thing to get around such obstacles as bad memory and conflicting schedules is persistence.
On Sunday I finally caught Roy while he was at the bar watching the New Orleans Saints game against San Fransisco. The bar was packed. I knew, from one of the bartenders, that he always, without a doubt, watched Saints games at Markey's. Towards the end of the first half I found him. While he was walking through, I asked him about the interview. He responded in a very jovial, friendly way. Interview Monday at 1 p.m.
Monday at 1 p.m.: I get to Markey's and grab a seat at the bar, High Life draft. A half hour rolls by and no sign of him, another High Life draft. I asked the bartender, Lisa, when he was supposed to be in. He was out on errands, who knew, kind of a come and go sort of guy. I sat and watched tv with the five or so other people in the bar. The 10 Creepiest Places to Visit on the Travel Channel. I will say though, watching tv with the rest of the neighborhood is more entertaining and beneficial than by yourself. You might be talking about the validity of the belief in ghosts, but that simple act is a bonding agent. A little past 3 p.m., after the creepiest place turned out to be some plush hotel in Southern California (not creepy), he shows up with a scoop and other bar items in hand. He sincerely apologized. Had a lot to drink the night before, the Saints won their third straight and the Red Sox won the series in the fourth game--lot to drink about. He said, "Man I drank so much last night, I couldn't swallow when I woke up." Next time, Tuesday 1 p.m.
Tuesday at 1 p.m.: Similar situation, I showed up grabbed a seat and a beer and waited. After a while tv sucks you in. The bartender, this time Corinne, had on the Travel Channel again only this time the show was about vacation homes out West called "earthships". It's really easy to make light of the Travel Channel and as you can imagine jokes ensued and friendships were made. Strangely enough the Travel Channel also becomes more entertaining as the time passes. 3 p.m. rolls around. I ask about Roy, the bartender had no idea.
Wednesday 3 p.m.: I made another attempt. Same story, only this time the conversation was about Halloween costumes and how the news said sex offenders were being rounded up for "victim empathy" classes tonight so as not to prey on the unsuspecting. Lisa offered his number to me. I call him, he answers in his friendly way. No can do, taking his daughter trick or treating. I'm not complaining, it be very weird, wrong, if he passed up his daughter for an interview with me. New meeting time, Thursday 9 a.m.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
5
So I went to Markey's tonight. I rode my bike because it's only a couple of blocks away. When I was riding though I thought of something this guy Chris (a contractor) told me. He told me that people, well certain people of the criminal element, hide behind cars and bushes and other places and as you ride by them on your bike they will through sticks into your spokes to throw you off of the bike. After you fall they'll come over and steal your stuff. Now I don't know how accurate his claim was but he seems like an honest guy so I won't argue the point. As he told me, "You've got to keep your head on a three hundred and sixty degree swivel around here at night." I took that to heart. I rode my bike there but I was on the look out the whole way. He told that about two weeks ago. And I haven't really thought about it until tonight. For whatever reason though I was worried about it today.
Either way I got to Markey's safe and sound. The reason I went there tonight was to find what out Markey's is, well as it acts in the Bywater community. What does Markey's mean to the communithy? Why is it the neighborhood bar? What is the role of the neighborhood bar in New Orleans in general, the Bywater specifically? So I got in to Markey's and I sat down at the bar, grabbed a beer and began to wait. Every time I go in there by myself I sit down at the closest available seat. The assumption is that eventually the person next to me, or soon to be next to me, will begin a conversation. I only assume that because that has been the case countless times at Markey's. People are very talkative and friendly there. I could say people do that to reach out. But I don't think that is actually why. It's a neighborhood bar. People are trying to be neighbors. If people see you around they begin to feel like you are a neighbor as opposed to an outsider. As I stated in my last entry, if people there recognize you, i.e. the bartenders, everyone else will recognize you. For example tonight I met a man named "John". I sat down and he saw Lisa, the bartender, wave at me. I assumed that he assumed I was a neighborhood person, and a regular at Markey's (which was further validated when Chris, a contractor in the neighborhood, and Tom, a carpenter/plumber, sat down and talked to us, having talked to me several times before, at different times during the evening).
John and I started talking about the game, Navy vs. Pitt. It was a predominately offensive game, that was an icebreaker. After a beer or two more, we began a legitimate conversation. Most conversations in that bar begin with where you're from. He told me, "I'm a Steelers fan too, so I"m glad Pitt. is runnin this offense right now." So I asked him if he was from Pittsburgh. "Na man I'm from New York, not the city but a little bit outside." His wife is from Pittsburgh, now he's down here with his wife running a small bed and breakfast on Poland. After the conversation became comfortable, familiar, I tried to pull Markey's itself into the equation. That was the point of me going there in the first place. We started to talk about the neighborhood, i.e. how people "hide their wealth, so other people don't know." "Man I'm a carpenter by trade. And you'll see these houses that look like shit. But when you go inside they're beautiful. I work in the neighborhood. I'm not trying to get rich. People know me and I know they'll pay me." I said that that was the way Markey's seems to me. It's all a matter of neighborly courtesy and friendliness. One thing he said specifically about Markey's was that it's the same way as those houses. What they are inside is different from how they appear outside (especially before Markey's go that nice red paint job).
I guess what I've come to realize talking to him and others, the stories themselves being fantastic byproducts, is that Markey's and neighborhood bars in general act as a neighborhood forum. They provide an essential function for the sense of overall community. John said "New Orleans is a neighborhood place. Bywater is relaxed place. Shit happens here like it does anywhere in the city but kinda tend to look out for people here." The neighborhood bar is a place for people in the neighborhood to congregate in a "relaxed" setting and create neighborly bonds. He told me that when he and his wife first moved down here "you know, our neighbors came over with a bottle of champagne. They gave us that as a gift and then invited us over for dinner. And, you know, this is before the hurricane. They thanked us for being on the street and trying to keep this bed and breakfast going, even though there's no breakfast anymore. People like to go out in this city you know what I mean. No body wants to stay in and eat."
Granted, more interviews and research is required to actually figure out the role of Markey's, specifically, in the neighborhood. What I lack now is approach, or methodology is perhaps a better word for it. I know what Markey's is. I know how people feel about. There is a reason that one the first things people ask me around here is if I have been to Markey's yet. There's a reason those same people have told me, and people actually at Markey's have told me that Markey's is the best bar in the New Orleans. I've experienced why. It's a matter of verbalizing it.
Stephen Greenblatt said in "Resonance and Wonder", "The Museum's rich collections of synagogue art and the historic synagogue buildings of Prague's Jewish town," says the catalogue of the State Jewish Museum, "form a memorial complex that has not been preserved to the same extent anywhere else in Europe." New Orleans itself is kind of the same thing--always moving around, the dynamic of the population changing (i.e. the influx of hispanics after the storm), yet the city is an artifact. That's how Markey's is, a sort of spiritual fixture in the dynamic of the Bywater neighborhood.
Either way I got to Markey's safe and sound. The reason I went there tonight was to find what out Markey's is, well as it acts in the Bywater community. What does Markey's mean to the communithy? Why is it the neighborhood bar? What is the role of the neighborhood bar in New Orleans in general, the Bywater specifically? So I got in to Markey's and I sat down at the bar, grabbed a beer and began to wait. Every time I go in there by myself I sit down at the closest available seat. The assumption is that eventually the person next to me, or soon to be next to me, will begin a conversation. I only assume that because that has been the case countless times at Markey's. People are very talkative and friendly there. I could say people do that to reach out. But I don't think that is actually why. It's a neighborhood bar. People are trying to be neighbors. If people see you around they begin to feel like you are a neighbor as opposed to an outsider. As I stated in my last entry, if people there recognize you, i.e. the bartenders, everyone else will recognize you. For example tonight I met a man named "John". I sat down and he saw Lisa, the bartender, wave at me. I assumed that he assumed I was a neighborhood person, and a regular at Markey's (which was further validated when Chris, a contractor in the neighborhood, and Tom, a carpenter/plumber, sat down and talked to us, having talked to me several times before, at different times during the evening).
John and I started talking about the game, Navy vs. Pitt. It was a predominately offensive game, that was an icebreaker. After a beer or two more, we began a legitimate conversation. Most conversations in that bar begin with where you're from. He told me, "I'm a Steelers fan too, so I"m glad Pitt. is runnin this offense right now." So I asked him if he was from Pittsburgh. "Na man I'm from New York, not the city but a little bit outside." His wife is from Pittsburgh, now he's down here with his wife running a small bed and breakfast on Poland. After the conversation became comfortable, familiar, I tried to pull Markey's itself into the equation. That was the point of me going there in the first place. We started to talk about the neighborhood, i.e. how people "hide their wealth, so other people don't know." "Man I'm a carpenter by trade. And you'll see these houses that look like shit. But when you go inside they're beautiful. I work in the neighborhood. I'm not trying to get rich. People know me and I know they'll pay me." I said that that was the way Markey's seems to me. It's all a matter of neighborly courtesy and friendliness. One thing he said specifically about Markey's was that it's the same way as those houses. What they are inside is different from how they appear outside (especially before Markey's go that nice red paint job).
I guess what I've come to realize talking to him and others, the stories themselves being fantastic byproducts, is that Markey's and neighborhood bars in general act as a neighborhood forum. They provide an essential function for the sense of overall community. John said "New Orleans is a neighborhood place. Bywater is relaxed place. Shit happens here like it does anywhere in the city but kinda tend to look out for people here." The neighborhood bar is a place for people in the neighborhood to congregate in a "relaxed" setting and create neighborly bonds. He told me that when he and his wife first moved down here "you know, our neighbors came over with a bottle of champagne. They gave us that as a gift and then invited us over for dinner. And, you know, this is before the hurricane. They thanked us for being on the street and trying to keep this bed and breakfast going, even though there's no breakfast anymore. People like to go out in this city you know what I mean. No body wants to stay in and eat."
Granted, more interviews and research is required to actually figure out the role of Markey's, specifically, in the neighborhood. What I lack now is approach, or methodology is perhaps a better word for it. I know what Markey's is. I know how people feel about. There is a reason that one the first things people ask me around here is if I have been to Markey's yet. There's a reason those same people have told me, and people actually at Markey's have told me that Markey's is the best bar in the New Orleans. I've experienced why. It's a matter of verbalizing it.
Stephen Greenblatt said in "Resonance and Wonder", "The Museum's rich collections of synagogue art and the historic synagogue buildings of Prague's Jewish town," says the catalogue of the State Jewish Museum, "form a memorial complex that has not been preserved to the same extent anywhere else in Europe." New Orleans itself is kind of the same thing--always moving around, the dynamic of the population changing (i.e. the influx of hispanics after the storm), yet the city is an artifact. That's how Markey's is, a sort of spiritual fixture in the dynamic of the Bywater neighborhood.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
4
One of my favorite things to do in New Orleans is going to Markey's. I go there a whole lot. Sometimes maybe too much. It is probably the coolest bar I've ever been too or frequented. When I have to go back to Lexington, I wish i could take Markey's with me. There's a whole lot of reasons why, i.e. free pool and the shuffle board. Cheap beer (two dollar high lifes). The Saints games are really fun to go to, even if the Saints aren't doing well, because all kinds of people from the neighborhood are there and sometimes the owner puts out free red beans and rice. People are always playing good music on the jukebox. One night I was in there and the jukebox started with some Hank Williams went on to some Johnny Cash then to the Misfits (I think) and ended up with some ODB. Weird but appealing, Markey's is a tiny tiny place, a hole in the wall, almost run down. But there are five or six brand new flat screen televisions, thirty six inch televisions. This contributes to the Saints games as well. Plus I think now they are serving food regularly. I haven't tried it yet but I bet it's good.
The strongest appeal of Markey's to me is the Cheer's factor. Sometimes you really do want to go where everybody knows your name. And over the span of time that I have been in New Orleans I've met a whole lot of different people there. I know several of the bartenders by name. I kind of have a crush on one of them. Her name is Lisa, but I'm pretty sure she's got a big boyfriend. One of the guys I've seen there a couple of times calls me Kentucky because he doesn't remember my name. I don't remember his either so it doesn't really matter. But I do know I like being refered to as Kentucky. What is interesting about all of this though is the fact that after you become established, i.e. a regular, people readily accept you and talk to you about anything, from where they are from to the nature of exploding trash piles to the regularity of their sexual life. A lot of being considered a regular is recognition by the bartenders. If they know your name or are familiar with you, you win. Immediately other people also recognize you as being a regular. This seems almost synonymous with being considered an equal member of the neighborhood.
Aside from a somewhat general sense of neighborhood acceptance, there is the added value of the stories I hear. I met a Lieutenant Colonel from Atlanta, Georgia, commuting between the base on Poland St. to his home, and his wife, in Atlanta. One of the more interesting, maybe weird is the word, characters I met in Markey's was a thirty seven year old guy named Dave from North Carolina who told me about his occasional interaction with call girls from the yellow pages. He also told me a story about his "crazy" ex-wife who threw a bag of trash on a bonfire they were having back in NC. The trash exploded. It caught one of his friends on fire and scratched up a brand new Grand Am really bad. I liked that story. The call girls are just kind of creepy. I'm interested in the people of the Bywater, especially at Markey's.
The strongest appeal of Markey's to me is the Cheer's factor. Sometimes you really do want to go where everybody knows your name. And over the span of time that I have been in New Orleans I've met a whole lot of different people there. I know several of the bartenders by name. I kind of have a crush on one of them. Her name is Lisa, but I'm pretty sure she's got a big boyfriend. One of the guys I've seen there a couple of times calls me Kentucky because he doesn't remember my name. I don't remember his either so it doesn't really matter. But I do know I like being refered to as Kentucky. What is interesting about all of this though is the fact that after you become established, i.e. a regular, people readily accept you and talk to you about anything, from where they are from to the nature of exploding trash piles to the regularity of their sexual life. A lot of being considered a regular is recognition by the bartenders. If they know your name or are familiar with you, you win. Immediately other people also recognize you as being a regular. This seems almost synonymous with being considered an equal member of the neighborhood.
Aside from a somewhat general sense of neighborhood acceptance, there is the added value of the stories I hear. I met a Lieutenant Colonel from Atlanta, Georgia, commuting between the base on Poland St. to his home, and his wife, in Atlanta. One of the more interesting, maybe weird is the word, characters I met in Markey's was a thirty seven year old guy named Dave from North Carolina who told me about his occasional interaction with call girls from the yellow pages. He also told me a story about his "crazy" ex-wife who threw a bag of trash on a bonfire they were having back in NC. The trash exploded. It caught one of his friends on fire and scratched up a brand new Grand Am really bad. I liked that story. The call girls are just kind of creepy. I'm interested in the people of the Bywater, especially at Markey's.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
3
I ride my bike a lot. Mostly from the Bywater, through the Marigny neighborhood, to the French Quarter or past it. The extent of these neighborhoods together is from the Mississippi River to St. Claude Ave./N. Rampart St. and from the Industrial Canal to Canal St. The Bywater neighborhood goes from the Industrial Canal to Franklin Ave. The Marigny neighborhood goes from Franklin Ave. to Esplanade Ave. And the French Quarter goes from Esplanade Ave. to Canal St. There are about three ways I ride from the Bywater to the French Quarter and back: Chartres/Decatur/N. Peters ST., Royal, and Dauphine. Each route allows for a slightly different reading of the neighborhoods, as they are different and as they are similar and where the borders are. Chartres is predominately residential in the Bywater and Marigny, and commercial in the French Quarter. Decatur is predominately commercial. N. Peters St. is commercial in the French Quarter and industrial in Marigny. Royal is mixed commercial/residential in the French Quarter, the closer to Canal street the more commercial, and mostly residential in Bywater and Marigny. Dauphine is the most mixed use route, from commercial to industrial to residential (mainly).
The density within the neighborhoods increases more or less linearly from the Bywater to the French Quarter. In the Bywater sidewalks are often set back off of the road. There are a lot of open lots. Many houses have more than a walkway between them and the next house. The Bywater has little vehicular or pedestrian traffic, not to say that people don't drive or walk in the Bywater. Charters and St. Claude are busy, but the interior of the neighborhood is slow. Traffic does not necessarily increase in Marigny. However, the shotguns are closer together. There is no gap from sidwalk to road. Open lots decrease. The French Quarter is densely packed. Buildings are built together. The street blocks are solid masses rather than objects in a field. Vehicular and pedestrian traffic increases greatly. The amount of people moving in the Quarter add a whole lot to its the sense of density. If you ride your bike there you have to squeeze through traffic. In the Bywater its an open road. The verticality also increases from the Bywater through Marigny to the French Quarter. There are comparably tall buildings in all three of these neighborhoods. The French Quarter just has the largest amount. A majority of buildings there are two stories at least. Another issue of verticality in the French Quarter is actually the CBD. The grid shifts again in the CBD, and if you look at it from the Quarter it feels as dense as New York. The rate of building repair decreases from the French Quarter to the Bywater. I feel like that's effecting the sense of density but I'm not sure why--vacancy pehaps.
Bywater has stoops, Marigny has porches, and the French Quarter has balconies.
The Marigny seems to me very much a border in and of itself, between the Bywater and the French Quarter. It's a middle condition. The street grid of Marigny reconciles the grid difference between the Bywater and the French Quarter, which are caused by the bend of the river. Marigny is a small pie shaped neighborhood as well. These things combined make the Marigny more a transition than destination. Especially if you go to the Quarter by way of Chartres St./N. St. Peters. Because of the pie shape you would be in the Marigny for only about three or four blocks of industry (on N. Peters). It doesn't read as a neighborhood at all by that route, besides the handful of houses visible through warehouses. But it does smell like coffee there. Also, the Marigny is cut in half by Elysian Fields Ave. Elysian fields is a big road. Big roads are more often than not big borders. This cut makes the Marigny feel even smaller. Until I looked on the map I assumed the Marigny ended at Elysian Fields and that from Elysian fields on was the French Quarter. That's how it seems the neighborhood actually operates. What I thought was the Marigny is more similar to the Bywater than it is to the French Quarter, i.e. chiefly residential shotguns, small amount of commercial and industrial areas(not including wharfs). And the border there is more obvious. The map border is Franklin Ave. but the actual cut is at the train tracks, slightly more east. The tracks create an industrial corridor between the neighborhoods. Warehouses run parallel to the tracks and there is a lot of open space around the tracks. Sometimes the train cuts the two neighborhoods off from each other completely. But mostly its a definite gap between two areas. If the gap didn't exist, any physical distinction would be less apparent, if there at all.
I researched U.S. census data (2000) for the Bywater, the Marigny, and the French Quarter, focusing on income and poverty, and a little on household and housing costs. The average household income for the Bywater was $27,246, for under $200,000 was $26,290 (roughly 60% of the population with under $10,000 as 29.2%) and over $200,000 was $336,000, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 38.6% of the population and people at or above poverty was 61.4%. The average household income for the Marigny was $35,764, under $200,000 was $34,895 (roughly 70% of the population with under $10,000 as 23.3%), over $200,000 was $317,450, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 24.1% of the population and people at or above poverty was 75.9%. The average household income for the French Quarter was $58,571, under $200,000 was $41,791 (roughly 63% of the population with under $10,000 as 9.5%, over $200,000 was $369,277, 5.1% of the population. People who were in poverty was 10.8% of the population and people at or above poverty was 89.2%. Economically speaking the Marigny is the median between the Bywater and the French Quarter. In terms of the poverty rate, it is the near exact mean of the Bywater and the Quarter. As far as percentage of the population under $10,000, the rate drops by 5.9% from Bywater to Marigny but from there drops another 13.8% to the French Quarter. More or less, Bywater has less money than Marigny, and the Marigny has less money than the French Quarter. Housing costs reflect this. What is evident then is grouping by economic level. Houses are cheaper in the Bywater than in the French Quarter. The factor of affordability can in cases supersede other criteria of self-placement, i.e. similar cultural beliefs. The article Village Space: Fences and Neighborhoods states "In pluralistic societies, people tend to cluster in neighborhoods with people who have similar values and codes of behavior, as a way of reducing information overload" (Village Space, p3). I'm not saying people don't group themselves by cultural values and familiarity, however, even in a "pluralistic society", there are factors, i.e. affordability and exterior pressure, which heavily effect placement regardless of cultural feelings or associations.
The density within the neighborhoods increases more or less linearly from the Bywater to the French Quarter. In the Bywater sidewalks are often set back off of the road. There are a lot of open lots. Many houses have more than a walkway between them and the next house. The Bywater has little vehicular or pedestrian traffic, not to say that people don't drive or walk in the Bywater. Charters and St. Claude are busy, but the interior of the neighborhood is slow. Traffic does not necessarily increase in Marigny. However, the shotguns are closer together. There is no gap from sidwalk to road. Open lots decrease. The French Quarter is densely packed. Buildings are built together. The street blocks are solid masses rather than objects in a field. Vehicular and pedestrian traffic increases greatly. The amount of people moving in the Quarter add a whole lot to its the sense of density. If you ride your bike there you have to squeeze through traffic. In the Bywater its an open road. The verticality also increases from the Bywater through Marigny to the French Quarter. There are comparably tall buildings in all three of these neighborhoods. The French Quarter just has the largest amount. A majority of buildings there are two stories at least. Another issue of verticality in the French Quarter is actually the CBD. The grid shifts again in the CBD, and if you look at it from the Quarter it feels as dense as New York. The rate of building repair decreases from the French Quarter to the Bywater. I feel like that's effecting the sense of density but I'm not sure why--vacancy pehaps.
Bywater has stoops, Marigny has porches, and the French Quarter has balconies.
The Marigny seems to me very much a border in and of itself, between the Bywater and the French Quarter. It's a middle condition. The street grid of Marigny reconciles the grid difference between the Bywater and the French Quarter, which are caused by the bend of the river. Marigny is a small pie shaped neighborhood as well. These things combined make the Marigny more a transition than destination. Especially if you go to the Quarter by way of Chartres St./N. St. Peters. Because of the pie shape you would be in the Marigny for only about three or four blocks of industry (on N. Peters). It doesn't read as a neighborhood at all by that route, besides the handful of houses visible through warehouses. But it does smell like coffee there. Also, the Marigny is cut in half by Elysian Fields Ave. Elysian fields is a big road. Big roads are more often than not big borders. This cut makes the Marigny feel even smaller. Until I looked on the map I assumed the Marigny ended at Elysian Fields and that from Elysian fields on was the French Quarter. That's how it seems the neighborhood actually operates. What I thought was the Marigny is more similar to the Bywater than it is to the French Quarter, i.e. chiefly residential shotguns, small amount of commercial and industrial areas(not including wharfs). And the border there is more obvious. The map border is Franklin Ave. but the actual cut is at the train tracks, slightly more east. The tracks create an industrial corridor between the neighborhoods. Warehouses run parallel to the tracks and there is a lot of open space around the tracks. Sometimes the train cuts the two neighborhoods off from each other completely. But mostly its a definite gap between two areas. If the gap didn't exist, any physical distinction would be less apparent, if there at all.
I researched U.S. census data (2000) for the Bywater, the Marigny, and the French Quarter, focusing on income and poverty, and a little on household and housing costs. The average household income for the Bywater was $27,246, for under $200,000 was $26,290 (roughly 60% of the population with under $10,000 as 29.2%) and over $200,000 was $336,000, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 38.6% of the population and people at or above poverty was 61.4%. The average household income for the Marigny was $35,764, under $200,000 was $34,895 (roughly 70% of the population with under $10,000 as 23.3%), over $200,000 was $317,450, .3% of the population. People who were in poverty was 24.1% of the population and people at or above poverty was 75.9%. The average household income for the French Quarter was $58,571, under $200,000 was $41,791 (roughly 63% of the population with under $10,000 as 9.5%, over $200,000 was $369,277, 5.1% of the population. People who were in poverty was 10.8% of the population and people at or above poverty was 89.2%. Economically speaking the Marigny is the median between the Bywater and the French Quarter. In terms of the poverty rate, it is the near exact mean of the Bywater and the Quarter. As far as percentage of the population under $10,000, the rate drops by 5.9% from Bywater to Marigny but from there drops another 13.8% to the French Quarter. More or less, Bywater has less money than Marigny, and the Marigny has less money than the French Quarter. Housing costs reflect this. What is evident then is grouping by economic level. Houses are cheaper in the Bywater than in the French Quarter. The factor of affordability can in cases supersede other criteria of self-placement, i.e. similar cultural beliefs. The article Village Space: Fences and Neighborhoods states "In pluralistic societies, people tend to cluster in neighborhoods with people who have similar values and codes of behavior, as a way of reducing information overload" (Village Space, p3). I'm not saying people don't group themselves by cultural values and familiarity, however, even in a "pluralistic society", there are factors, i.e. affordability and exterior pressure, which heavily effect placement regardless of cultural feelings or associations.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
2
I went to the Riverfront Park at about five o clock. I came in by Toulouse St. The river stunk really bad, almost like something had died a while back and decomposed right in front of where I was sitting. Actually the smell was somewhat faint, but after I noticed it I couldn’t ignore it. The breeze brought the smell in from the river. But I accepted the smell after a while because the breeze was worth it. River breezes are very pleasant in the summer. Mississippi’s breeze was refreshing in a sense, not cool, but the moving air helped cut the humidity and dried up all the sweat from riding my bike.
The Mississippi River is not what I would call a pretty river, at least not in New Orleans. First, due to the nature of New Orleans’ elevation being below sea level, only a couple of places have public access to the riverfront (or any water bodies even though the city is surrounded), Riverfront Park being one. Second, the river is heavily industrialized. Combining these two factors means that in the few places you can get to the Mississippi the view is of industrial machinery and dirty water—though I am a fan of industrial equipment and large boats, etc. Still, this is not an exactly an ideal river view or experience. Perhaps the real issue of shore-to-river interaction, at Riverfront Park and on the river walk way, is that neither of these things activates the relationship with the river. You have two options, sit and look, or pass through and look. Static.
I guess historically the Mississippi has served New Orleans in a very business and industrial sense. The Mississippi is for work. Granted, the river is also the reason New Orleans exists and has such a prominent role in the national makeup. It’s one of our most important ports. The river made the radial grid system for the streets (causing directly, with other factors, the distinctiveness of neighborhoods). Though the Mississippi is perhaps the most important generator of all things New Orleans, the treatment of the river architecturally does it no justice. Hopefully the Reinventing the Crescent project will do something to fix the present oversight. As the author states in “An Urban Design Hypothesis”, the Mississippi is an urban artifact. Wherever the river contacts a city, public space is created to interact with the river, poorly or not. Currently, at least at Riverfront Park, the public space consists of some benches and a walkway with some greenery.
I say this not in the sense that I don’t enjoy the park. I enjoy sitting in the benches and looking at the river. I especially enjoy watch the passing barges and big boats. People watching is next in line. A lot of different people come to the park. It seems empty at first, but if you stop for a while there is a steady flow of people. Some people come to exercise, which seems like an out of the way place to do so. One lady ran by me four or five times. The park is not next to any residential neighborhoods, kind of inconvenient. I guess the river makes up for it. I listened to a guy play drums on buckets for a while. He was pretty good. Three different homeless-looking men at three different times walked or rode by talking to themselves. I saw a woman straddling a man on one of the benches. They were making out vigorously. I rode by them on my bike. Old people like to sit at the park. One guy walked past me, looked at me, walked back and sat at the next bench. He would say things out loud, ask questions, etc. as if he were talking to someone (I was the only one there). At first I thought he was talking to me so I answered him. He was definitely not talking to me. Then he tried to figure out the words to a song he couldn’t quite remember. I looked over at him and he was leaning back and forth, very exaggerated. When I left, I passed him on my bike. He stared at me and made weird motions with his hands. In retrospect I think he was drunk or schizophrenic. Hell, maybe all the Riverfront Park needs to be is a sidewalk and some benches.
The Mississippi River is not what I would call a pretty river, at least not in New Orleans. First, due to the nature of New Orleans’ elevation being below sea level, only a couple of places have public access to the riverfront (or any water bodies even though the city is surrounded), Riverfront Park being one. Second, the river is heavily industrialized. Combining these two factors means that in the few places you can get to the Mississippi the view is of industrial machinery and dirty water—though I am a fan of industrial equipment and large boats, etc. Still, this is not an exactly an ideal river view or experience. Perhaps the real issue of shore-to-river interaction, at Riverfront Park and on the river walk way, is that neither of these things activates the relationship with the river. You have two options, sit and look, or pass through and look. Static.
I guess historically the Mississippi has served New Orleans in a very business and industrial sense. The Mississippi is for work. Granted, the river is also the reason New Orleans exists and has such a prominent role in the national makeup. It’s one of our most important ports. The river made the radial grid system for the streets (causing directly, with other factors, the distinctiveness of neighborhoods). Though the Mississippi is perhaps the most important generator of all things New Orleans, the treatment of the river architecturally does it no justice. Hopefully the Reinventing the Crescent project will do something to fix the present oversight. As the author states in “An Urban Design Hypothesis”, the Mississippi is an urban artifact. Wherever the river contacts a city, public space is created to interact with the river, poorly or not. Currently, at least at Riverfront Park, the public space consists of some benches and a walkway with some greenery.
I say this not in the sense that I don’t enjoy the park. I enjoy sitting in the benches and looking at the river. I especially enjoy watch the passing barges and big boats. People watching is next in line. A lot of different people come to the park. It seems empty at first, but if you stop for a while there is a steady flow of people. Some people come to exercise, which seems like an out of the way place to do so. One lady ran by me four or five times. The park is not next to any residential neighborhoods, kind of inconvenient. I guess the river makes up for it. I listened to a guy play drums on buckets for a while. He was pretty good. Three different homeless-looking men at three different times walked or rode by talking to themselves. I saw a woman straddling a man on one of the benches. They were making out vigorously. I rode by them on my bike. Old people like to sit at the park. One guy walked past me, looked at me, walked back and sat at the next bench. He would say things out loud, ask questions, etc. as if he were talking to someone (I was the only one there). At first I thought he was talking to me so I answered him. He was definitely not talking to me. Then he tried to figure out the words to a song he couldn’t quite remember. I looked over at him and he was leaning back and forth, very exaggerated. When I left, I passed him on my bike. He stared at me and made weird motions with his hands. In retrospect I think he was drunk or schizophrenic. Hell, maybe all the Riverfront Park needs to be is a sidewalk and some benches.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
1
I’ve been in New Orleans for two weeks. It’s really hot down here, not so much because of the actual temperature. Humidity is what makes New Orleans feel so hot. You have to walk on the shady side of the street and drink plenty of water. Even then you can feel the heat like a sauna. The air is thick, really thick, and sticky. Hot weather makes me slow. If I’m outside during the day, I only move at half pace and sweat profusely, especially when I ride my bike. Where I still in Kentucky the stuffiness would make me miserable but in New Orleans heat is just the way things are. You get used to it. Heat becomes normal very quickly.
The heat also fosters a lack of concern about certain things. It’s not really nonchalance and it’s not necessarily neglect. Just, certain things do not matter. The heat is too hot. Maybe that’s how it is in the Bywater neighborhood specifically, but that seems the general feeling. Gutter punks are a case in point. I could probably go a full week without a shower and the only people who would even notice (or care) would be my roommates. I guess that’s how it is other places too. Grime is a part of life here. Most streets in the Bywater can be likened to a checkerboard. One house will have a nice paint job, things are in order, the shutters work. For all I know a well paid lawyer lives there. Next to the lawyer is a house that looks like it’s falling apart. All the paint is worn down, shutters are hanging off. And somebody lives there too. I’d say it’s the heat.
New Orleans nights are what they are because of the day. At night no sun beats down on you, more importantly there is much less humidity. Nights here cool you down. It’s comfortable to be out—streets like Frenchmen, places like d.b.a., hole in the wall neighborhood bars like Vaughn’s and Markey’s, where there’s always people and good music and shuffleboard. New Orleans is a nighttime place. Shuffleboard at Markey’s is really fun and they have free pool. On Wednesdays at the Spotted Cat, Va Va Voom plays. It’s a really small place and they play relaxed music.
New Orleans nights are also somewhat scary. The city has one of the highest crime rates in the U.S. You can, it seems, buffer yourself to an extent, i.e. don’t start dealing drugs. The city’s crime rate has increased and I’m not going to pretend to actually know why. I’m sure poverty and neglect have something to do with it. I did read somewhere that crime rates go up in the summertime. Perhaps it’s the heat. What’s strange about the crime rate is the fact that New Orleans is also one of the most polite places I’ve ever been, especially in the Bywater. People wave and say hello. People stop to ask you how you’re doing. People are more friendly here than in Lexington. New Orleans is a city of contradictions. It’s a weird sort of place. I live in Lee Harvey Oswald’s old house for instance.
Place in New Orleans is a loaded term. Everything and everyplace in New Orleans has some prior meaning. To someone who’s been here for two weeks, New Orleans is a lot to take in, understanding the city grid while riding your bike is hard enough. New Orleans is a place unto itself. I’m pretty sure the city itself has done more to influence my opinion of it than any prior experience could have. You don’t really have all that much to go by when you’re coming to New Orleans.
The heat also fosters a lack of concern about certain things. It’s not really nonchalance and it’s not necessarily neglect. Just, certain things do not matter. The heat is too hot. Maybe that’s how it is in the Bywater neighborhood specifically, but that seems the general feeling. Gutter punks are a case in point. I could probably go a full week without a shower and the only people who would even notice (or care) would be my roommates. I guess that’s how it is other places too. Grime is a part of life here. Most streets in the Bywater can be likened to a checkerboard. One house will have a nice paint job, things are in order, the shutters work. For all I know a well paid lawyer lives there. Next to the lawyer is a house that looks like it’s falling apart. All the paint is worn down, shutters are hanging off. And somebody lives there too. I’d say it’s the heat.
New Orleans nights are what they are because of the day. At night no sun beats down on you, more importantly there is much less humidity. Nights here cool you down. It’s comfortable to be out—streets like Frenchmen, places like d.b.a., hole in the wall neighborhood bars like Vaughn’s and Markey’s, where there’s always people and good music and shuffleboard. New Orleans is a nighttime place. Shuffleboard at Markey’s is really fun and they have free pool. On Wednesdays at the Spotted Cat, Va Va Voom plays. It’s a really small place and they play relaxed music.
New Orleans nights are also somewhat scary. The city has one of the highest crime rates in the U.S. You can, it seems, buffer yourself to an extent, i.e. don’t start dealing drugs. The city’s crime rate has increased and I’m not going to pretend to actually know why. I’m sure poverty and neglect have something to do with it. I did read somewhere that crime rates go up in the summertime. Perhaps it’s the heat. What’s strange about the crime rate is the fact that New Orleans is also one of the most polite places I’ve ever been, especially in the Bywater. People wave and say hello. People stop to ask you how you’re doing. People are more friendly here than in Lexington. New Orleans is a city of contradictions. It’s a weird sort of place. I live in Lee Harvey Oswald’s old house for instance.
Place in New Orleans is a loaded term. Everything and everyplace in New Orleans has some prior meaning. To someone who’s been here for two weeks, New Orleans is a lot to take in, understanding the city grid while riding your bike is hard enough. New Orleans is a place unto itself. I’m pretty sure the city itself has done more to influence my opinion of it than any prior experience could have. You don’t really have all that much to go by when you’re coming to New Orleans.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
pop
barq's red cream soda tastes a whole lot better in new orleans. and i ate popeyes today, the number three with mashed potatos and cajun gravy and barq's root beer. yesterday i ate a roastbeef po boy, dressed, with a red cream soda.
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