This one hits a little too close to home.
Last night we were laid back on the couch listening to old Lefty Frizzell records when a great, thunderous clamor arose from the street. What sounded like a group of teenagers ran by the house laughing and moving with tremendous haste.
We didn’t think too much about it, our street is busy at all hours but then we heard trashcans’ lids being raised and slammed and walkie talkies chattering. The cops were right outside our home. Take your positions men.
We poked our heads outside, as NOPD was inspecting the garbage and peering underneath automobiles with their flashlights.
It turns out a couple out for an evening stroll were accosted by brigands and relieved of their property at an intersection 3 blocks down the way.
The 9th Ward is still the wild, wild west in spite of bungalows selling for nearly a half million dollars and corner bars and restaurants doing land-office business.
If you’re not in love with New Orleans there is no point in living in this grand, crumbling wreck of a city where blackguards rule and lawlessness is the order of the day.
We’ll keep on saying it: It ain’t easy in the the Big Easy.