Feels like New Orleans

A part of my history is centered in New Orleans. I never really lived there, but close enough. Weekly trips to the French Market with my dad for years, starting when I was a toddler. The Blue-Plate lunch at the trucker's diner, beignets at Cafe du Monde long before it became a tourist destination. Splashing in the pool at Audubon park, dinner at Glucks, or an oyster loaf at Felix's. Scary drives over the old Huey P Long bridge while a train was also crossing. The city had a vibration, its own taste, its own smell thanks to the old Jackson brewery and the river. And its own sound. More like different sound coming from different directions, with different beats, somehow blending together and with the city.

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