Day 642: New Orleans Blogger Band

For some odd reason, when faced with calamity, I get a haircut*. Perhaps it is that female-hormonal aspect of me or a symptom of the underlying obsessive-compulsiveness that demands control of the things I can change, while completely ignoring that which I cannot and donning blinders not to know the difference. In reality, the change of hairstyle this time has to do with my own mother telling me that my hair is — get this — boring. *wince*

To celebrate the new look, I drove home via Lower St. Charles Avenue with my shades on and all the windows down (like, totally risqué and radical, man). Public Enemy’s Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos blared out of the speakers as an homage to the current state of New Orleans and the nation, the start of hurricane season, Tropical Storm Barry and all that entails.

… Here is a land that never gave a damn
About a brother like me and myself
Because they never did
I wasn’t wit’ it, but just that very minute
It occurred to me
The suckers had authority

… On the strength, the situation’s unreal
I got a raw deal, so I’m goin’ for the steel

Turning off the Avenue onto Euterpe, there came a pothole large enough to swallow my vehicle whole. I slowly four-wheeled over the pothole and Euterpe, wondering where the famous Nagin-touted pothole fixer was? At that very instant, as the final strains of Black Steel flew away across Prytania, it dawned on me that New Orleans needs its own civic-minded blogging music group called … Pothole Killaz^TM. Oh, come on, let’s do it. We’ve got a ton of musical talent in this bunch, Oyster can lend vocal support, you know we’re going to sound a lot better than this bunch and we may actually invent the whole new genre of Blogabilly (you heard it here first). We’re New Orleanians, baby, the music’s in us and it’s gotta come out! Think about it when not tracking the storm radar every five seconds.

*Fear not, dear reader, mes cheveux noirs weren’t lopped off, dyed chickadee yellow or extended. However, I do now possess a feature unheard of in these here parts since my high school days – BANGS! When informed of this executive decision a friend cried, “Bangs?! You don’t look like Nancy from the comics, do you?” Oddly enough, I look just fine.