Its been a goal of mine for years to have a wall of black and white portraits, in my home, featuring the city of New Orleans. It’s my favorite place…like, in the history of ever. So, in the fall when my parents asked me if I wanted to go I had an immediate response. “Is a frog’s butt water tight?” “Does James Brown like to get down?” “Does Ludacris have hoes in different area codes?” Yes. Yes, I would like to go to New Orleans with you — kind of a ridiculous question, but hey, what do I know?
Anyway, like I said, NOLA is my favorite city ever, and it’s incredibly difficult to explain why. Probably because it’s for so many reasons. So, because I don’t have an eloquent way to ‘splain myself, I’ll leave it to Mr. John Goodman:
“If I could put my finger on it, I’d bottle it and sell it. I came down in 1972 with some drunken fraternity guys and had never seen anything like it – the climate, the smells. It’s the cradle of music; it just flipped me. Someone suggested that there’s an incomplete part of our chromosomes that gets repaired or found when we hit New Orleans. Some of us just belong here.”
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