I was in high school when I first moved from Algiers to the French Quarter. I consider it the place where I grew up, where I became the guy I am now. Don’t get me wrong: it was a love/hate relationship. I loved the sense of community, the look and feel of the place, the constant activity. I hated the tourists, the tourist industry, the gutterpunks and, of course, the dirtiness. But hey, it was home.

A few months ago, I moved so far uptown my nose bled. Its got its upside. Imagine! A neighborhood with trees. Trees! Real ones! No puddles of questionable origin, either. Very nice, in certain ways.

It just doesn’t feel right, yet. I’m used to walking down one block of Decatur and seeing four people I know, then exchanging weary looks with those people when some drunk dip stumbles in front of us. Living in the Quarter is like the popular perception of ‘Nam. SNAFU! FUBAR! You have a bad day working on Bourbon? Go to your bar of choice and your buddies will nod understandingly. “I know, man. I know. I’m there too.” I liked that a lot.

Uptown… I need to give it a chance, I guess. It’s a new neighborhood, and I don’t know anyone, but that’ll change. I just don’t feel that shared experience up here. But, hey! Trees, man. Trees. With leaves and everything.

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4. Thanks Mr Nagin
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