CP NEWS: 10 Things to Do After Hurricane Katrina

[ddm-news]

-Lily Filson



We know what you’re thinking. Who in the world would try to bring levity to a disaster as devastating as Hurricane Katrina? Well, someone living in its rubble, of course. Leave to the folks of the Big Easy to come up with infinite ways to keep les bontemps roulés. In stark contrast to things we take for granted (postal service, cell phone towers, LEVEES), New Orleans nightlife still carries on in the face of tragedy. CP’s Lily Filson offers 10 drunk and jolly recipes for lemonade (and MRE-tinis?) that even category five lemons couldn’t sour.

1. Daytime Bar Crawl.

Nobody in town? Now is the time to drunkenly explore the city on foot with the family dog. May I suggest the Maple Street bar route—Vera Cruz, Bruno's, TJ's, etc. If done properly during daylight hours, the management won't mind at all that you're drinking in the middle of the day because with a dog, hey, everyone has to walk it once in a while. Some bartenders will even set down a bowl of water for Fido.



2. DJ Doorknob and Slackjaw Ron.

The live music scene these days in New Orleans is neither amazingly good nor hideously bad… just extraordinarily random. You never know whether a washboard zydeco act will be followed by someone named DJ Tracheotomy (I wish I was joking.) Pre-Katrina, international headliners hit the town and provided first-class entertainment almost nightly. Not the case anymore. Post-K, these washboard-playing, slightly slurring acts are fascinating, if not hilarious entertainment in and of themselves.

3. Minor Mischief.

If you're underage, now is the time to celebrate. The 40 to 50% of bars that required ID before have stopped even trying. My generous estimate of bars that card now is at 0 to 5%. Glare no more at Whiskey Blue, Philips F&M's, and all the 21-and-over places that once shunned you. The negative flip-side of this newfound European splendor is that if you just turned 21, your legitimate ID comes out about as often as an insurance adjustor in the ninth ward.

4. Go Boat Shopping.

That's right. The best holiday gift to buy any New Orleanian that plans on staying is one of those quickly-inflatable rafts that can hold four people and a whole menagerie of pets. The selection uptown leaves much to be desired, so a field trip out to Metairie, Kenner, or (gasp) Harahan may be in order. As is the case with so many things post-Katrina, we may be laughing about it, but we are so damn serious. Boat. Shopping. Keep it in your attic after your generous friends have filled your stocking with inflatable rafts and paddles.

5. Motocross Parking.

When out and about driving with your friends, urge them to park wherever they please. Neutral Ground? Corner? Meter? Fire Lane? No problem. In fact, I like to play a game called “The Most Outrageous Parking Spot.” The very few meter maids that are actually working don't issue legitimate, payable tickets because the department physically can't process tickets OR payments. Unable to cope with their new lack of power, the five or ten working meter maids have been issuing completely useless "warning tickets" that may look like the real thing but with which they can neither fine nor boot you.

6. Shop Hop.

A good way to support the New Orleans economy is to go on long walks to visit various struggling boutique stores. They're still getting fall collections, and their normal shopping population has shrunk dramatically. Just because we're all refugees doesn't mean we have to look like it.

7. Recruit More Refugees.

Test your skills of persuasion by calling your scattered friends around the country and convince them to give up their school/job/life wherever else they live. Although in order to do this, you need to talk up New Orleans's "booming job market" and "frontier-like opportunities," the goal is, infact, NOT for them to become a productive member of society but yet another drinking buddy and sidekick to your job-free days post-K.

8. Mmmm, MRE-tinis.

One of my favorite things to do in post-Katrina evenings is harass the army guys for MREs (Meals Ready to Eat ). They know that I'm neither starving nor destitute because by the point I’m speaking to them, I've already been drinking my fair share of cocktails and can barely form full sentences. To make matters worse, they're usually reticent when asked to give up their precious brown cartons of sustenance. However, perseverance and well-placed southern charm is key to landing the MREs when out; the rest of the night's entertainment depends on them. In every MRE hides some version of an energy shake, usually in chocolate, vanilla, or a hideous mocha. Run into your favorite bar and request that they blend you up a stiff MRE-tini. Because they put such a massive amount of powder into the bag, you need to mix it with at least 3 shots of vodka, rum, moonshine, whatever and voilà! The refugee's drink of choice.



9. Look. Click. Buy.

Missing Saks and Canal Place? Join the trend of desperate New Orleanian shoppers and hone your fine online shopping skills. Most people have heard of bluefly.com, but what about stylemarket.com, eluxury.com, bergdorfgoodman.com, and the frighteningly convenient froogle.com? Just don't expect your packages to arrive on time if ever; bet you almost forgot you were in New Orleans.

10. Food, Wine and Friends.

Stock up on wine, hone your culinary skills and throw a party for the people who moved back on your block. It's almost guaranteed that the majority of them are holed up somewhere in Austin or Baton Rouge, but having a lawn party in the midst of so much chaos has a surprisingly civilizing effect. Pre-Katrina, most people couldn't name their neighbors let alone socialize with them. But when a disaster strikes, there’s always an opportunity to connect with those around you.

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