Psst, over hear. I got a secret - its what the Right will never understand. Its was Freeperville just can't get. Its about what makes us America, and what makes them, a pale shadow. Its why Katrina hurts in a way that makes us angry to our core. What is it?
On the flip, y'all.
We are New Orleans.
We are Bourbon Street. We are Garden District. We are Ninth Ward.
We are France in Dixie. We are Acadians in the Bayou. We are Creole in the Vieux Carre.
We are black. We are white. We quadroon and octroon. We are Creole. We are colorless.
We are zydeco in a backwoods dancehall. We are jazz at a funeral. We are ragtime in Preservation Hall.
We are gumbo. We are jamabalya. We are po'boys and muffaletta. We are crawdads and oysters and etouffee. We are beignets and cafe au lait. We are deep fried alligator and turtle soup and boudin. We are hot, spicy, smooth, cool, salty, sweet, savory.
We are Catholic. We are Protestant. We are Voodoo.
We are Mardi Gras. We are the Sugar Bowl.
We are hanging wisteria and wrought iron out of storybooks. We are slapdash ramshackle.
We are calloused and bruised oil-rig roughnecks. We are chalk-striped, French-cuffed and diamond necktie stickpin bankers. We are rubberized full-gators and non-ironic John Deere capped oystermen.
We are Satchmo and Wynton and Fats and Jelly Roll. We are Louis Prima and Trent Reznor and Master P. We are Tennessee Williams and Elmore Leonard, Truman Capote and Anne Rice. We are Marshall Faulk and Peyton Manning. Hell, we are even Ellen DeGeneres.
We are rich. We are poor. We are striving. We are struggling.
We are New Orleans. We are America. We are blessed.