The New American Ghost Town

I recently traveled to New Orleans, and was surprised that it has a very similar feel to all the "post oil boom" ghost towns that I see around Oklahoma. Downtown areas that consist primarily of second hand stores, diners and discount stores are very common in NorthEast Oklahoma, site of the first oil well discovery.

The exodus of small stores results in a quaint but sad downtown area, as Wal-Mart pulls consumers to the outskirts. Collinsville, Claremore and Chelsea all feel like a 50's movie set - but without the life.

I'm saddened by the loss of community culture. Life has become one great drive-by, a neighborless, friendless wasteland. No wonder everyone is lonely.

New Orleans does, however, have a lot more life in the streets. There, of course, the wasteland feeling is for a different reason, and more temporary. Laid low by Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans gives the impression of bravely smiling and gamely pressing on.

There are people everywhere in the French Quarter, bustling through the streets on the urgent business of getting to the coffee shop or the bar. Businesses seem to be overstaffed, which made me wonder whether there is federal aid going into the few extant businesses to give employment to the many people displaced by closures following the catastrophe. Humorously enough, it reminded me of Japan, where they will have someone stationed at the automatic ticket dispenser in the parking lot to hand the ticket from the machine to the driver, and have 2 hostesses stationed at an elevator to wave you in.

I loved the "street conversation culture"in New Orleans, and the overwhelming impression that businesses were grateful for my custom. As a Bostonian, I especially enjoyed the southern courtesy of African Americans. It's hard to explain the hostile vibes one experiences in multi-cultural neighborhoods and on public transportation in Northeast or Chicago as a white person who is "just passing through". I haven't yet been able to conquer being aware of being the only white person on the street, but I can be comfortable around people of various flavors in the South in a way I never experienced in the North.

As I said, all the businesses seemed to be positive and grateful - except the Cafe Du Monde, a sad and over-rated little shop with cracked mugs and deep fried pastry of inconsistent quality, smothered in confectioner's sugar ( a mysteriously beloved treat called beignets) and waitresses being disinterested in 12 different languages. There was obviously something about that whole experience I was missing, because all over town people gushed, "Have you had Beignets at Cafe du Monde? It's wonderful!", but I thought the coffee tasteless, the shop crowded and dirty, and the resident jazz musician (very cool) was a beggar for his "church rebuilding project" (most uncool).

Perhaps this was New Orleans' answer to Boston's Parker House Restaurant, widely renowned for it's rude middle-aged waitresses? In a sea of jovial beneficence, it certainly stood out!