Hoodies, Hunger, and Intuitive Racism

For the last couple weeks, the news has been dominated by 2 stories, and depending on who you ask, one just as important as the other: Trayvon Martin was shot and killed by George Zimmerman, and The Hunger Games came out in theaters nationwide. At first glance, these stories don't seem to have much to do with one another. In fact, they don't really. Or, they didn't, until people's reactions to the stories became the news.

The reactions to the Trayvon story quickly took a predictable turn to arguments primarily about race, with people choosing sides based on the perceived racism involved in the killing. It could have been (and may still prove to be) the start of an important discussion on gun laws in this country, but we decided to focus solely on the racial aspect, which proves to me that we have a long way to go in this country on racial issues. My conviction was further solidified when race became a major factor in the coverage of the release of this year's biggest movie, The Hunger Games. Racist reactions to the movie's casting became a headline news story, not to mention a pretty funny (and sad at the same time) Tumblr blog.

The movie has already made over 200 million dollars, and any movie with that type of success and popularity will have its share of controversy. This particular controversy is very interesting though, because most of the negative reaction came from young people, and the racist tweets say as much about their awful personalities and outlook on life as they say about this generation's horrible reading comprehension skills.

Apparently, some of the characters in the movie were portrayed by *gasp* black actors and actresses. In particular, the character Rue, was portrayed by a young black actress, Amadla Stenberg. Apparently, many people missed the section of the book where she is described as having dark hair and dark skin. (Readers should have at least realized she was supposed to be black when characters from her "district" were whipped, and later they rioted, the two accepted actions of black characters in American pop culture.)  One movie-goer said, "why does rue have to be black not gonna lie kinda ruined the movie." Another said, "Awkward moment when you find out that Rue is black and not the innocent little blonde girl you pictured."

The face of evil.

I'm not surprised by these reactions, I know there are people out there who still harbor these negative thoughts; however, with forums like Twitter and Facebook and comment sections on news stories, these ideas are posted for all to see, and the prevalence of these thoughts is alarming. Go to any news story about Trayvon, and at least 10% are just blatantly racist and hateful. The one saving grace in all this is that at least there's a large backlash against these types of comments...most of the time.

The Hunger Games comments became a huge news story because they not only show how hateful people can be, but they show how ignorance feeds the hatred and negativity. It is pretty obvious that the characters who were played by black actors were black in the book, yet these people claim to be huge fans of the book. Most of them claim that it's not about racism, they were simply upset that the movie didn't follow the book exactly; except that it did. Any time somebody says, "I'm not racist, but..." you know some racist shit is gonna come out of their mouths. It's similar to the defense, "I have a lot of black friends." These are classic racism deflectors, and they are as see-through as saran wrap. In 2012, everybody is aware that racism is not acceptable, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist; racist people have simply modified their language in order to hide their true feelings. As Bill Maher said, denying racism is the new racism.

The scary part is that a lot of these people truly don't realize that they have these negative thoughts and feelings; or they don't recognize these thoughts as being racist. They think that racism is only when you call a black person nigger (which some commenters did, of course). Their views that only a white actress can portray the "innocent" character isn't racist to them because it's so engrained in our society that white = good and black = bad that we don't even recognize it as an issue. Why are we surprised that kids equate innocence with white skin and blonde hair? Have you seen a picture of Jesus?

 Looks like every Middle Easterner I know...

We are taught (implicitly and explicitly) from an early age that white is good, black is bad. The villains wear black; good guys wear white. White is innocent, pure. Black is evil, dangerous. Daylight is happiness and sunshine, nighttime is dark and scary. A white pigeon (dove) represents peace and love. A black cat represents bad luck. Black licorice tastes like shit.

This goes back thousands of years. More recently, though, it has been pervasive in cinema. In silent movies, you couldn't identify the bad guy through his words, so the easy solution was putting him in black clothes. Instant villain! And that trend continues to this day. 

Many people believe this tendency to associate good with white and bad with black has been the cause of negative race relations throughout modern history. The pervasiveness of cultural representations of the association between black and evil has led to an intuitive prejudice that works on an unconscious level, and it can happen even in people who are not consciously prejudiced. This idea is discussed much more thoroughly (and brilliantly) by Malcolm Gladwell in Blink. He claims it is the reason for such tragedies as the killing of Amadou Diallo, an innocent, unarmed man shot 47 times by the NYPD.

Therefore, laws such as the Stand Your Ground Law are especially scary because they allow people to use deadly force whenever they feel threatened. Oftentimes, all it takes is the wrong skin color, or the wrong hand gesture, or the wrong piece of clothing to be perceived as a threat. Twenty four states now have such Stand Your Ground laws. Nowadays, any mention of even the smallest restrictions on gun ownership is shouted down with claims about the liberal agenda to "take away our guns!", and now the extraordinarily powerful gun lobby has helped push through legislation that further empowers gun owners to use deadly force at their own discretion. According to the Wall Street Journal, "justifiable homicide" has nearly doubled since the laws have taken effect. The laws basically encourage people to shoot first, and it makes it difficult for law enforcement to prosecute shooters (which, unfortunately, will probably happen in the Trayvon Martin case). The laws are particularly scary for people with a skin tone that has been culturally predetermined as a threat.

As sad as these stories are, they have highlighted some of the issues we face as a nation, and if the discussions we are now having don't lead to any changes in the gun laws, maybe they will at least help us confront our racial biases; and if we confront our biases now, maybe in the future, the young man who thinks a characters's death "isn't as sad" when it's a black person, or the 15 year old who thinks a black girl can't be innocent looking, will recognize their prejudices and be able to overcome them.

Otherwise, we will have a lot more tragedies like that of Trayvon Martin.

I Love You All (Black, White, Yellow, Red, Green--I see you Martians)...Class Dismissed.

Detroit's Danny Brown

"Outer Space"

I decided it's time to do another music blog. Sometimes I feel like doing nothing but music blogs, but I wanna keep the content of this blog diversified. Just know that I could do about 2 of these a day.

Anyways, today's class will be focusing on Danny Brown, an African American rapper hailing from Detroit, Michigan. These last two years have been huge for this guy, dropping the album The Hybrid in 2010 and XXX in 2011, as well as an EP in 2011 with Detroit producer Black Milk, titled Black and Brown (not the most clever title). I heard about Brown after Black and Brown came out, but I didn't actually listen to him for a while after. I'm still very hesitant to give new artists (especially rappers) a chance. Most of it is garbage, and I have enough music on my ipod to keep me happy for the rest of my life. I always want to hear new stuff, but I usually try to find older, more rare songs. I have a habit of picking up on artists years after they actually come out. I finally gave Brown a shot because Blockhead recommended his music. I finally downloaded Black and Brown and XXX, for free, because he's the man and gave them away. 

To be perfectly honest, I was not impressed. In most of the songs he took on an obnoxious, nasally, high-pitched yelp. I had been a fan of Black Milk for a little while so at least the beats on Black and Brown were good right off the bat, but I wasn't sold on this guy being the hot new thing that all the hipsters (and actual hip people) claimed him to be. The beats on XXX were very unconventional, so that album was even more of a stretch for me. I liked both albums, and they were definitely interesting, I just didn't think they would be something I'd listen to very much.

After a couple more listens, something strange happened. I didn't want to listen to anything else. I was addicted to that obnoxious yelp and the asinine, brilliant, irreverent, perverted, and hilarious words it was spouting.

I quickly downloaded The Hybrid and anything else I could find from him (XXX is my favorite overall). You have to love a guy who references the Simpsons ("You softer than Flander's son/Don't make me put hands on son"), the Fresh Prince of Bel Air ("But the block was off the hook, said fuck class/Off them same pills that had Carlton dancing fast"), guns and SpongeBob ("AKs with bayonets on deck, rep my set/Sorta like Squidward and his clarinet"), and one of my favorite mc's, Masta Ace ("Dog I'm strategizin, plottin on throne/Masta of the ace, sittin on chrome!"). He's also VERY fond of talking about sex, especially oral sex. Apparently, the loss of his two front teeth has made him a cunnilingus connoisseur of sorts (I'm surprised he hasn't used that line).

"I Will" As in, that sexual act your husband/boyfriend won't do, Danny Brown will.

He's unlike anything I've ever heard. He's gotten the comparisons to Ol' Dirty Bastard, but that's not fair to him or Osirus. He has the irreverence of ODB, that's for sure. He's got the pervertedness of 2 Live Crew and Black Sheep (and ODB). But he also has the insight of Brother Ali or Common, and the wordplay of Andre 3000. In one of my favorite songs, he talks about coming to grips with turning 30 (something I can certainly relate to). He expresses his fears and concerns about ever reaching his goals ("Cause if this shit don't work, ni**a I failed at life") and talks openly about how his drug dependency has paradoxically helped him deal with his struggles and made him suicidal ("Turning to these drugs now these drugs turned my life/And it's the downward spiral, got me suicidal/But too scared to do it so these pills will be the rifle).

"XXX" Which is the Roman Numeral for 30...took me a while to figure that one out. 

His rapping style varies, so he's not all high pitched barking, he often reverts to a simple, straight forward style, and he's still more original than the majority of rappers. In one song he talks about growing up in the wasteland of Detroit ("And where I lived... it was house, field, field/Field, field, house/Abandoned house, field, field") and in another, he talks about how grateful his family was for welfare and food stamps.

"Thank God" The best argument for welfare ever made. Seriously.

In addition to all of this, he is one of the weirdest looking mofos you'll ever see, but he absolutely pulls it off. The word is, he was going to be signed to G-Unit, but 50 Cent wasn't fond of his look, in particular the skinny jeans and wacky hair.

How can you not love this look, 50?

In all honesty, it turned me off to him at first, too. As open as I am to music (I don't listen to only rap, as some people--and my nickname--would have you believe) there are still prejudices I harbor that prevent me from listening to some good music; and as much as I despise the media's, and society's, opinions on music and movies/shows, I still let them influence my opinion on things. For example, I didn't listen to Amy Winehouse while she was alive because I really only heard the song Rehab (which was a clear radio friendly hit) and I dismissed her as an over-hyped, over-privileged druggie, because that had become her image. I liked her on Ghostface's song, but I attributed that to the beat, and to Ghostface. But after her death, Questlove of The Roots said something about her being a genius and working with her on an album. So I (definitely not illegally) downloaded her album. If you've been paying attention, you'll know that I ended up loving it.

Now I've gotten a whole bunch of music to enjoy from Danny Brown, and I relearned a valuable lesson from him: don't judge an artist by his or her look, and don't pay any attention whatsoever to critics (or the majority of people in general). Nowadays, to find good music, you have to actively search for it, and you can't let something like skinny jeans, or a stupid name, or being over-hyped, or being really over-hyped, or being a white rock band, get in the way of listening to some new, good music.

"Huzzah Remix" This song features a bunch of artists you should be listening to.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

Astral Projection (Meditate to Elevate Pt. 2)

Do the Astral Plane. I did (I think?).

I continued reading the book. Although I still questioned many of the claims, it was interesting enough, and it had quite a bit of good advice for meditation. As I read more, it dove further into the premise of astral projection. The idea of astral projection is to separate your physical being from your astral body; it's basically an out of body experience (all of this comes from memory, I'm not doing research until that google ad money starts rolling in, so if anything is inaccurate, I apologize, but it's your fault for not clicking on the ads on my page!). One exercise I tried was to project my energy/light outwards from my solar plexus and try to envision a "being" several feet in front of me. They stressed that you should not imagine the being as yourself when getting started.  Basically, I think, the idea was that if you envisioned it enough, you would eventually be able to project your conscious, astral body outside of your physical body. They also mentioned that this exercise would project any issues/problems/concerns you were having outside of yourself, making them easier to deal with by gaining new perspective. I don't think I ever really believed it would work, but I wanted to try because it was interesting, and the previous exercises truly seemed to help me.

So I went through the process of the glowing chakras, and when I was completely surrounded in the light of my energy, I focused on my solar plexus (belly button area). I followed the book's instructions, and envisioned a grey cord slowly extending from my belly like an ethereal umbilical cord. I pictured the cord extending for about 5 feet, then, as per the instructions, I envisioned the cord coagulating into a grey blob, hovering in the air in front of me. After a few deep breaths, I was to envision the shape dissolving, and the cord retracting, and then go through the chakra process in reverse.

This step was a little harder. I had trouble keeping focus on the grey matter as it floated in front of me. One problem I was having was that it felt ridiculous. Glowing chakras is one thing, but an amorphous blob of energy suspended in air is a whole 'nother ball game.

But I kept at it for a week, and like everything else, it became easier. Basically, you can envision anything in your mind. I never had a problem with that, the problem was believing it was actually there. And I didn't really believe it, but it was a good mental exercise and very relaxing overall. I wasn't really trying to have an out of body experience anyway.

At the time of all this, I was going through a class to become an EMT. I had never done anything like it before, but I was really excited about it. I wanted to help others, plus I wanted to know more about the human body and how to treat it during various emergencies. A part of me was a bit nervous because as I said, I had never done anything like it before. I didn't know what to expect, which was riveting and frightening. Needless to say, there was a lot on my mind regarding what I would be doing as an EMT, and the things I would see. It was a good time to be meditating.

One day, after I had passed the certification, I started to meditate. I went through my entire routine, all the way up to the floating umbilical cord. Up to that point, I had never been able to envision any "being" in the grey floating blob. I tried, really hard, to picture something, anything, but it didn't feel natural. It wasn't natural, I was forcing it, and that never works with meditation. On this day, I expected no different. My light surrounded me and the grey cord ventured out from my solar plexus and I remember the feeling of oncoming disappointment. Another day, another grey, shapeless blob levitating in front of me. The blob appeared before me as usual, but this time, it started to grow larger, seemingly forming into some kind of defined shape. It continued to morph until it became the shape of a small child. I could not make out any distinguishing features of his face, but e seemed sad. I looked at him and it felt like he was looking back. During this spiritual staring contest, my thoughts turned to my future work as an EMT. For some reason, I believed that this shape, this spirit, represented the spirit of a child who had passed, or possibly even a child who would pass. As this thought occurred to me, another thought appeared: there was a good chance that some emergency that I responded to would involve children. It was a fact that my conscious did not come to grips with until that moment. Immediately, the reality of becoming an EMT set in. People's lives would be dependent on my ability to help them. I would be directly responsible for helping people in desperate need, including children. It was something I had been thinking about for a while, but the reality of that notion never hit me, until that moment.

And at that moment, any fear or reservation I was having left. The child was sad, but not scared, or angry. I truly felt as if this was the spirit of a child that I would one day encounter as an EMT, and be unable to save. I wanted to reach out and apologize, but I had the overwhelming feeling that he understood. It was as if he was there to tell me that it was okay, I wouldn't be able to save everyone. Death is sad, but inevitable, and not to be feared. If I was going to be an EMT, I could not let death, or the fear of it, interfere with me doing my job.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks. The child's outline started to wobble, and the shape in front of me returned to a globular grey mass, then slowly retracted to my solar plexus. I finished my chakra routine and ended the session.

It was incredible. I can't even describe what I felt, except it was like every positive emotion all together at once, with all fear and doubt removed. It was very surreal, and something I had never even imagined before.

Not long after, when I was a little removed from the experience, I gave the incident some more thought, trying to analyze what happened. Some would say analyzing an experience like that takes the magic out of it, but I don't think that's true at all. Just because I have a better understanding of something doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, and it certainly doesn't devalue what I was feeling at the time. Anyways, here is what I came up with after much deliberation:

This experience occurred well after I started reading the book. I read each chapter over and over, as each chapter was a step in the process of astral projection. The last chapter I read was very intensely focused on the exact incident I described, I just added my own personal back-story to the vision. It literally took me through every step of the way. So having read that over and over, and attempting to visualize it several times, my subconscious mind eventually projected the vision to my conscious. I basically rewired my brain circuitry so that my mental image became "real".

That's my theory anyway, and Michael Crichton has similar theories. In that book, he talks about his experiences with meditation. I read that book a long time ago and I'm certain it influenced my "vision" as well.

That doesn't take anything away from my experience, or what it did for me mentally and emotionally. It doesn't change the fact that it helped me deal with the stress I was feeling over becoming an EMT. Interestingly enough, I stopped meditating shortly after that. Maybe I thought I reached a pinnacle and figured I didn't need to do it anymore, or maybe the experience bugged me out, or maybe I just didn't have time for a few days and then I lost the motivation to continue and those few days turned into weeks, then years. Or maybe it's all of those reasons. I don't know, but I do know that I want to get back into it, and I highly recommend meditation for everybody. You don't have to go the astral projection route, but some kind of meditation (guided helps). It takes effort, though, so you'll need to stick with it. It's probably not for everybody, but humans are incredibly adaptive, and I think that if they tried hard enough, they could accomplish anything. I may have just read that on a poster in an elementary school, but it doesn't make it any less profound. Besides, meditation isn't that hard, and it's definitely worth the effort.

Besides, the worst thing that could happen is that you relax for ten minutes or so. We could all use more  of that.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

Meditate to Elevate

Souls of Mischief... Always loved their music, and really related to the name.

A few years ago, I decided to try my hand at meditation. I had considered it for a while, but it was intimidating. I could never "clear" my mind. I'd sit for a few minutes trying to think of nothing, but my mind would quickly drift on to some random petty bullshit, like what clothes I was going to wear the next day or whether or not I set the DVR for South Park. So I gave up.

Eventually, I tried again. I actually sought out venues for guided meditation. Since my late teens, I always thought Buddhism was the closest any religion came to my own personal views, and I admired the Buddhist way of life, especially the meditation apect. So I found an advertisement for a group that did guided meditation/Buddhist teaching at a community center on Tuesday nights in West Hartford. When I got there, they immediately asked for a $10 donation and I almost walked out. If I'm paying $10 for Nirvana, I better hear some "Come As You Are". But, I decided to dole out the money and see what they had to offer.  And I'm glad I did.

Buddhist Meditation
The center was essentially a small church, with torture benches and everything, but it was a more comfortable setting than any other church I've been in. They even put cushions on the torture benches! There were about 4 other people, ranging in age from mid 20's to late 60's. We all sat quietly until the monk finally walked in. I say monk, and he called himself a monk, but to me he looked like a plain old bald white guy in a robe. Anyways, he read a few things and then started a 5 minute meditation session, which he talked us through. He had a very soothing voice, and although I didn't feel like I was meditating, it was very relaxing to just focus on his words.

After the short meditation session, he talked for 20 minutes on the teachings of Buddha. I've always been a fan, I'm just not all about "worshipping" anybody or anything. Anyways, I don't remember the message but I'm sure I agreed with the premise. After his talk, we meditated again. I closed my eyes and listened to the soothing tones of his voice. He told us to focus on our breathing and follow his words.

Picture the air as it enters your nose and mouth. Imagine it traveling throughout your body, delivering life-giving oxygen to all your vital organs. Then visualize the air leaving your body, expelling all negative energy, from your toes, all the way to your head, and out your mouth.

I did exactly as he said, and after a while, as I was envisioning the negative energy leaving my body, something amazing happened. I started to relax. And I mean really relax. I no longer felt constrained by my physical body, I was simply energy. Maybe that's a little strong, but that's the only way I can describe it as I look back on it. The interesting thing was that my mind wasn't completely "clear", but it wasn't concerned with anything; thoughts came and went and I kept my main focus on my breathing.

About 5 minutes in (5ish, it's hard to tell in that state of mind) I had a vision of my energy as a white mist hovering around me, then spiraling upwards, above my head towards the ceiling. It continued upwards until I could see it spiraling above the roof of the building. I could picture it circling the entire building and twisting its way up into the sky. (Looking back on it I would say it was negative energy, but at the time it didn't feel negative, and it was pure white which is usually associated with positivity, so who knows what was happening.)

That lasted for about ten seconds. Then the vision was gone. I started fidgeting on my seat. I felt the fabric on my shirt rubbing against my skin. I couldn't get back into the same mental state. But for a few moments, I had reached a conscious state that I'd rarely been in without the aid of some external aid, and I enjoyed it. I wanted more.

A Book Makes a Difference
While my interest in meditation was increasing, I came across a book at my friend's place about astral projection. She let me borrow it (one day I'll return it!!) and I decided to give it a look. The book claimed that with enough practice, you would be able to project your spirit outside of your body, into another astral plane. Basically an out of body experience. But it also said that if you were meditating in one room, you could project your self into other rooms to see what's going on. In addition, you could send a type of spirit guide long distances away and it would come back and tell you what was happening there. So if you had family in Florida and you wanted to see how they were doing, you could meditate and send a spirit guide to check on them, and the next day when you meditate, the spirit guide will "report" back to you.

I admit, it's a little out there, but I was reading it more for its tips on meditating. The astral projection was just an interesting side note, and I never truly believed I would be able to do any of it. I just wanted to be able to meditate more easily. And the book helped. It gave tips on focusing your mind and breathing techniques during your meditation session. There was an emphasis on chakras, and as you breathed, you were to envision each chakra as a bright circle of light. For example, your "crown" chakra is directly above your head like, well, a crown. The crown chakra is represented as a purple light (each chakra has a different color association).

After a brief period of concentrated breathing, you were then to envision each successive chakra as you breath out. So you would take a deep breath in, slowly, and when you exhaled, you were to envision a bright purple ball of light glowing above your head. Then as you inhale, slowly,you envision the light flowing to your next chakra, located at your brow and represented by indigo. When you exhaled again, you would imagine the chakra at your temple glowing a bright indigo color. You continue that way until you hit all the chakras. In this book, they included one near your feet, claiming this was actually an earth chakra, representing our spiritual connection to the planet we inhabit.

Once all of the chakras were glowing bright, you envision the light/energy flowing from your toes back up to your head, creating a circle of flowing, bright energy around you. After a few deep breaths, you reversed the order, and envisioned the light/energy flowing back up through each chakra until it reaches the crown. They stressed the importance of completing the entire cycle. You don't want any broken links in your circle of energy, and it ensures that you dedicate a fairly decent amount of time focusing your mind on this one activity.

The first few times trying it, I would get through the warm-up breathing exercises, then my mind would wander right about the time my throat chakra was starting to glow. But I stuck with it, and the book revealed more and more techniques (and theory) as I read, so there was something new to try each time. After a while, I could get through the whole cycle undisturbed. And it worked. I did feel more relaxed, more ready to deal with the world. It wasn't what I had imagined when I began meditating; in fact, it was much better.

Emptiness
During one of the Buddhist meetings, the monk claimed that our mind's natural state is emptiness. It is like a clear canvas or background in which thoughts pass by. Sometimes we latch onto a thought, sometimes they just keep moving past. Meditation is an attempt to get your mind to its natural state, letting thoughts simply pass by (probably the worst paraphrase ever). He also said that even experienced practitioners of meditation will latch onto thoughts passing through their minds. The key is to identify when your mind has latched onto a thought and try to return to emptiness; the easiest way is to keep focusing on your breathing. That helped me a lot. He emphasized to not get upset if you find your mind wandering, it's perfectly natural. That also helped, because I always thought it was some mistake I was making.

The book helped a great deal, too, because it forced me to focus on my breathing by envisioning my chakras. The book described many other types of meditation, but it all revolved around focusing your mind on one thing, whether it be a certain sound, a certain image, your breathing, or even a particular feeling.

The fact that there were many variations of meditation was eye-opening. I didn't have to just sit there and think about nothing (whenever I tried that, I just fell asleep, which is cool with me, but it's certainly not meditating). Once I was comfortable with the chakras, I decided to move on to another level of meditation, and possibly, another level of existence.

To be continued.


I Love You All...Class Dismissed (For Now).

5 Reasons to Visit (And Question the Sanity of) New Orleans

Louis Armstrong, "When The Saints Go Marching In"

After a 9 year absence, I returned to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. More than anything else, there was a sense that not much had changed. The southern hospitality was still there, the overall jovial spirit was still there, even the playlist at Razzoo's bar was the same. And the beads. The massive amount of beads in every shape and size imaginable. Watching people do anything for these very cheap balls of plastic on a string will always be the most hilarious concept to me. And when you're in the thick of it, with thousands of screaming, laughing, and most importantly, accepting people around you, it all makes perfect sense. As my friend Jeremy put it, you feel "at home and on a different planet."

It's the same, but yet something's a bit off.

For this trip to the Big Easy, I was the experienced veteran showing around the newcomers. I almost felt like a local showing the out-of-towners how it's done in my town (even though I haven't been in nine years and I only lived there for 3 months). As I said before, New Orleans will always hold a special place in my heart. It's a place that stays with you. There is an indistinguishable, overwhelming atmosphere of pleasure over everything else that finds its way into your soul and never leaves. They handle life a little differently down there. Their response to hard luck and constant struggle is to party harder. They even named their most popular local drink after a natural disaster that frequently destroys a good portion of the city. Good food, good  music, and good spirits solve everything, and you are more than welcome to join them and find out.

"Poorly Constructed Levy System" just doesn't have the same ring to it as "Hurricane".

Here are five reasons you have to absolutely love, or be completely baffled by, the city of New Orleans, Louisiana.

The Food
When we arrived on Saturday, it was raining rather hard, and it definitely affected the number of people out on the streets. I was starting to worry that we wouldn't get a great experience on our first night. Then we stopped to get dinner at a restaurant on Bourbon Street and my worries were put to rest.

I didn't really pay attention to any of the names of the restaurants because I knew they would all be great (and I was a tad distracted to be honest). We literally chose any random little restaurant we could find as soon as anyone felt hungry. And we were always satisfied.

Catfish, hush puppies, and fries for the first meal. 

Crawfish soup and biscuits with gravy made from God's semen, if God's semen is the most delicious thing you ever tasted. And why wouldn't it be?

Oysters.

OYSTERS!

If you are a fan of fattening food, or seafood, this is the place for you. Most of the food is fried and greasy, and served in large portions. Those oysters had to be exposed to gamma rays or something.

I love cajun food, and I had an excellent caesar salad with cajun chicken, as well as crawfish pasta. Late one night, I even succumbed to the street meat vendors and bought chicken on a stick. I doused it with cajun seasoning and went to town. I discovered that night that New Orleans street chicken on a stick = AMAZING.

Then there are Lucky Dogs. Anybody who's been to New Orleans knows about Lucky Dogs. I no longer eat mammals so there was no chance of me eating one; in fact, I don't think I ate one after my first trip ten years ago. You get to a point where you realize you will never eat one again if your life depended on it, and I reached that point after about 4 Lucky Dogs on my first trip. One of my fellow travelers did eat one, though, and he enjoyed it...until later that night, of course.

The majority of the food is absolutely delicious, but there's a reason Louisiana is the second fattest state in the nation.

The Music
Music. Sweet music. There's music everywhere. You walk into a random bar and a live band is playing, and they are always enjoyable. It's usually rock-and-roll or jazz, or a combination of the two, and there's a certain energy that all of the performers exude that rubs off on the listeners. The music is truly the lifeblood of the city. There's a tinge of melancholy, but it's always balanced with humor and the spirit of survival.

In addition to the live bands, there were parades with high school and college marching bands, loud music blasting through the windows and balconies, and impromptu parades with makeshift bands down the side roads. Walking down one side street led us into the middle of a random costume/dance/drum-circle/garbage-can-bongo one-block parade. It was fantastic.

There's nothing bad you can say about the music, but it's just fascinating to see how much music plays a part of everything, and how the music expresses the spirit of the place. On at least three different occasions, large groups of people started dancing in the street in what looked to be a choreographed dance sequence, except it was simply a group of people who heard music coming from a bar, saw other people dancing, and joined in, following the moves of everybody else. In the middle of a crowded street. I had never seen anything like it.

In a moment that truly reflects the positive, circular vibes happening in the NOLA, we were walking past the Dueling Piano bar, and one of my friends said, "I wish they'd play some Bob Marley. I'm surprised we haven't heard any." Twenty seconds later? They're playing No Woman, No Cry.

Circle.

The People
On any vacation, the people you go with always make a big difference in the level of enjoyment. I've been lucky with all my times in New Orleans. I've had great company every time. This trip was no different. In our hotel room at the Queen and Crescent on Camp St. (to find it, walk down Canal Street towards the smell of used cat litter...great place, though!) there were four people: myself, J-Rock, Dizzle, and Feelin' Good Frank aka Frankie Fish aka Frankie Butt-Wipes aka Frank's Red Hot aka One Hurricane and I pull My Dick Out Frank aka Forever Changing Frank aka Frank Van Winkle aka Trigga Face Frank aka Flamingo Frank aka Southern Fried Puke Frank aka Motorboatin Frank. Long story short of this inside joke: Captain Frank wanted a nickname, so we had a few suggestions...

The point is, we came equipped with a good crew, which is important wherever you go, especially in a party with hundreds of thousands of strangers. Plus, there were several other friends of ours down there that we hung out with sporadically, so that was cool.

The other thousands of people were pretty cool, too. It's actually incredible when you think about how relatively few incidents of crime occur considering the number of (drunk) people in such a small space. I guess that says something positive about human nature.

I think it's just the vibe down there, too. Everybody is just chill. Starting the day with a beignet and a Hurricane helps, but Southern hospitality really exists. The locals are, for the most part, the friendliest people you'll ever meet. They move a little slow and talk a little funny, but they will make you feel like family.

Now, don't get me wrong, with that many people, and that much alcohol, it's bound to get a little testy. When you are literally shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, trying to walk down the street with a drink in your hand and not lose your friends at the same time, you get the urge to shove everybody by the face so they'll just move already. You've been walking all day and just want to take a piss, but there's a line 30 deep and the port-a-potty is overflowing with some kind of thick liquid that's going to  make you vomit just thinking about what it could be, so you're running out of patience.

And then there are the Jesus freaks. All due respect to my Christian brother and Sisters (I was one of you once!) but nobody wants to hear that shit on Bourbon Street. And if you think I'm being harsh, imagine getting harassed every day by dozens of naive college students, telling you to change your life. They're not even the worst of it. The worst are the people holding on to each others' shoulders and forming long lines down Bourbon, holding crosses and signs with phrases like, "Homo Sex Is Sin". It's all part of the absurdity,though. All aspects of life are represented. And it does give me a tingle of enjoyment when the Jesus freaks walk through the gay district and everybody boos and throws beads at them, yet nobody gets truly violent.

Yeah, it can get a little nasty. But for the most part, everybody keeps their cool. Besides, it's the tourists who are the assholes. During other times of the year, it's not nearly as overrun by drunk douchebags.

In another scene that reflects the spirit of New Orleans, me and J-Rock were down by the river, taking a break from the insanity on Bourbon. A young lady in purple spandex pants, a yellow and black tank-top, and what looked like ballet slippers, approached us and started chatting. She was very friendly, sitting on the rocks looking out at the river. She was from Atlanta and visiting for a few days. When the conversation turned to music, we asked what she liked and she said, "Oh, I don't know, everything? I'm not really sure. I'm on acid." And that little bombshell was not one bit out of the ordinary. It was just something that you came to expect after a few days in the Big Easy.

Hi, Sam!

The Beads

There are necks and torsos in there somewhere.

Some people (who have never been to Mardi Gras) wonder why people go so crazy over beads. They are just cheap plastic necklaces that usually end up staining your clothes and skin. They are an environmental catastrophe, and they make unsuspecting walkers-by slip and fall on the disgusting, beer-and-piss soaked streets, scuffing up their knees and embarrassing them in front of a group of young ladies ready to expose themselves. Goddamn beads!

But man, those beads are better than cash money down there. It's like any financial system; certain objects are valued higher than others, and the value is not intrinsic, it comes from the public's perception and demand of the object. And the public demands big, shiny, unique beads. 

Talking, dancing pigs get mad love, for example. Boas are also a hot commodity for the ladies.

Beads fly down from the balconies, fly up from the streets, fly over from the sidewalks...there is no escaping the wrath of the beads. There are always a few balconies that switch it up a bit, too. One balcony threw superballs down to the street, dozens at a time. Cups and glow-stick necklaces were popular, but possibly my personal favorite (besides the time I got the pig) was the guy on a side street off Bourbon throwing cheese balls down from the balcony. It was the perfect hit at that moment and it was just really funny watching people catch flying cheese balls in their mouths in the middle of the street.

The first night we were there, people were very generous with their beads. As a group of four guys, we got some really good beads without doing anything. It was surprising, but then I realized it was the first night for a lot of other people, too. They didn't truly understand the value of their beads. When it got to Fat Tuesday, the four of us didn't stand a chance of getting beads bigger than bb's, and our best beads only went to the most attractive, or the most daring, or the most massive, or the most unique sets of chest-puppies.

Some people who've never been there might judge others for flashing or doing some other silly act to get beads, but that's because you need to be immersed in the culture to understand it. There is no judging down there, there is no shame; flashing is such a natural occurrence that you are the oddball if you don't flash (remember that, ladies).

The Scenery
No, I'm not referring to countless bare breasts...well, ok, I am referring to countless bare breasts, but I'm also talking about the actual scenery: the buildings, the river, the parades, the costumes, the body paint, the artists, the musicians.

The talented street performers.

The awesome costumes.

The AWESOME costumes.

The Mississippi River.

The street meat trailers. Me.

Every aspect of the city captures the feeling of a population that overcomes constant tragedy with good nature and humor.

Now, this is just my perspective of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. But in my experience (which only extends to three months) it applies to the city throughout the year as well. I love the place, in spite of, or because of, all its faults. The city does what I want to do: enjoy life to the fullest in the face of  inevitable tragedy and death.

It's not an easy thing to do, but with enough practice (and enough beads and alcohol-based beverages) anything is possible.

I Love You All (And It Really Is A Wonderful World)...Class Dismissed.

Home is where the Thug is...

After all these years, I finally came back to you, Vince, Tommy, Mick, and Nikki. Home Sweet Home, indeed.

So after a little break, I'm back on the blog with a vengeance! Actually, this will be a quick one, then it's back to grading papers and unpacking. I have settled in to my new place, and I gotta say...it already feels like home. Never thought I'd say that about New Britain, Connecticut...but it's true.

It helps that I have hung out in my current home long before I started living here, and it helps that I'm living with another good friend, and it helps that I now live in the same city where I work and where a good percentage of my friends live; but even with all that, you never know what it's going to be like until it happens.

It was sad to say goodbye to my condo, but it needed to be done, and the sadness didn't last for long. In fact, it left pretty much as soon as I left the parking lot.

So now I'm just organizing my room. I have more stuff than I thought, and I want to do more than just throw everything in boxes and put them out of sight, which is what I did 7 years ago.

Anyways, my place is really cool and if you're reading this, you should come hang out here (not you, Spambot). Now that I've moved in, and my Mardi Gras vacation has passed (which I will write about soon I swear) I'll be able to hang out a little more. Then again, I have a lot of papers to grade. And I want to write more. And I want to exercise more. And I have to watch Breaking Bad Season 3. And I have to prepare for Africa. And I still have to change my address at the DMV.

Goddammit.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.