Ah, New Orleans. As this photo shows, the city is filled with many examples of lavish, exquisite architecture in the most unexpected places. Who wouldn’t enjoy walking out onto what, in other cities, would simply be a mundane, unexceptional balcony on a modest townhome, and instead finding this treasure of extravagance. Unfortunately, since this is New Orleans, this is also what many victims of Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau were gazing upon before a summoned demon threw their asses onto the quaint cobblestones below. You win some, you lose some, but the city still offers the best fried-oyster po’boys that you’ve ever shoved in your mouth and-
Marie, tapping me on the shoulder: “Excuse me.”
Me: “How the hell did you get past my security?”
Marie: “Your security? Child, surely you don’t mean that mangy cat named Scotch who hissed at me when I opened your front door usin’ just my mind.”
Me: “Maybe.”
Marie, waving a hand: “Honey, that cat don’t have nothin’ on me. I took care a him. Looks like you done tried to take care a him before, cause he ain’t got no balls and that’s why he hissin’. He don’t forget.”
Me: “Took care of him? Are you saying that you…”
Marie: “Naw, I didn’t put him down. I just put a curse on him, made him go in another room and think about gettin’ revenge for the berry pluckin’. Tit for tat, Momma always said.”
Me: “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Marie: “Course not. You a white boy from Oklahoma. But you might wanna keep one eye open tonight.”
Me: “I don’t really care for what you’re trying to imply about my background.”
Marie: “Welcome to the club. And I don’t really care for this little story you writin’. I’m a Voodoo Queen. And you makin’ fun of voodoo queens. Do you understand what voodoo means?”
Me: “Maybe.”
Marie: “No you don’t. You shouldn’t piss off a voodoo queen. Just look at Kim Jong Un. She mad.”
Me: “Well, you’re supposed to be dead, so I didn’t think it would matter.”
Marie: “Voodoo queens never really die. Just look at Margaret Thatcher, her mess still hangin’ around all these years later. And why you have me talkin’ all ghetto and shifty? You ain’t doin’ that with your other characters.”
Me: “Actually, if you’d bother to read some of my posts instead of just clicking ‘like’ and then moving on to the next-”
Marie: “I do read your posts. Ain’t nobody white got an accent. Except you, Oklahoma Boy. You done ripped the twang out a your hick-ass words, soundin’ like you from England and sittin’ on the dang throne. Ain’t nobody buyin’ that mess, clodhopper. You all full a pretense and misdirection, just like the Fox News and the NRA.”
Me: “Look, it’s 12:52am and I’m past the point where I normally make a new post. 73 percent of the people who started reading this bit have stopped reading and gone on to greater things. How can we wrap this up so I don’t look like a racist and you don’t look like someone who is pointing fingers at other people instead of accepting responsibility for their own nasty actions. Just like Donald Trump.”
Marie: “Rewrite the story.”
Me: “But I spent a lot of time getting us to this point and-”
Marie: “Do it!”
Me: “Fine”
Ah, New Orleans. As this photo shows, the city is filled with many examples of unexpected treasures, if only you take the time to get beyond the preconceptions and embrace diversity. Just like it should be everywhere in America, regardless of the accent. I’m done with all this anger and hollerin’ and pointin’ and lyin’ and pure meanness, ‘specially with some a them there MAGA politicians up in Washington. You’re supposed to represent The People, not your hatred and self-lovin’. What the hell is wrong with you? There was a time when your ass would be thrown in jail for the smack comin’ outta your mouth and-
Marie, tapping me on the shoulder: “Honey, I smell what you’re cookin’ and I respect what you got in the pot. I’ve been feelin’ that boil for a long time. But settle down. Frustration is good, but the power comes from controllin’ it, not unleashin’ it all at once. Let’s try this again. Less Oklahoma, less throne, somewhere in between.”
Ah, New Orleans. This city is filled with a million colors. As is this country, as is the world. And only one of them is white. When are we going to learn that no single color is any more important than the others? When will this country learn that until we fully see the rainbow in all its majestic glory, the rain will never end.
Marie: “Better. A little bit precious, but better. How about I sit down with you and we’ll fix it up, together. You got any coffee on the stove? And maybe some fried oysters? You get a little peckish when you’re over 200 years old.”
I did have, and I shared both, and Me and the Voodoo Queen worked late into the night…
Previously published. Revised and extended for this post.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
The idea of you and a Voodoo Queen collaborating makes me smile. Better keep Scotch away from her though…
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It was certainly a fun scenario for me to fiddle with, and you know I love to fiddle. Bit of trivia: The tiny hotel where we always stay when we go to New Orleans is in a building once owned by… Marie Laveau…
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Perfect!
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That was hilarious! In the beginning. Your rant was exceptional. And I love how the voodoo queen lost all her swagger and the two of you sat down together. If only the world could… Excellent post.
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Thank you muchly! And I’m glad you realized the target I was trying to hit. If only…
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Wow – we are supposed to visit New Orleans in Februarly – now I wonder if we will see the Voodoo Queen herself.
Scary!
Have a good weekend, my friend.
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Oh, you’ll see her, in a way. Her memory is all over the place, especially in the French Quarter. Have you been before? If not, the one thing I would suggest is to stay away from the “touristy” sections. (Like that mess you’ll find on the “Upper” end of Bourbon Street.) Wander off into the lesser-traveled sections of the Quarter and just breathe in the charming, whimsical, eclectic atmosphere…
I won’t bore you with further details, in case you’re a former or frequent visitor to ‘Nawlins. But if you have any questions, I probably have some of the answers. I love that city…
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I have been a couple of times but need to explore – will contact you with questions if we do get to go! Thanks!! Have a great weekend, you!
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I LOVE this piece, Brian. Especially this: “Frustration is good, but the power comes from controllin’ it, not unleashin’ it all at once.” You rock. 🙂
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Thank you for noticing that line. It’s a concept that I’ve been trying to focus on…
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A swampy Bayou accent would work for me!
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Oh, it certainly works for me. I love the accents in southern Louisiana, a lilting, drawling mix of French and Spanish influences…
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‘Less Oklahoma, less throne, somewhere in between’—words of a wise woman. hahahaha
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And words that I should probably listen to more often… 😉
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Don’t kill me….or sick the voodoo queen on me…but…New Orleans is one of those places I don’t understand why anyone would go there on purpose. I remember horse poop being all over the street…oh, and buying a fire extinguisher from two guys who were robbing a store. (I didn’t realize it at the time.) But as usual…a fun read! 🤗
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Oh, I remember that you’re not a fan of New Orleans, so it’s all good. I also remember your fire extinguisher story, mainly because I forced you to tell it to me at one point. (I can be pushy, fully admit it.) But like I said then and I’m saying now, you just have to go with the right people. Because when you do, it’s a delicious experience…
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Ah, wise one. You’re right…(and you can smile.) I forget to try to imagine what things would have, should have, or could have been…if I have experienced them with someone who allowed anything to outweigh his own self interest. (But I would have still hated the horse poop.)
😬
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In all the time I lived in Louisiana, I never made it to New Orleans..I learned enough in Lake Charles to know who not to mess with..and to stay off balconies.
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Wait, you lived in Lake Charles and you never made it to Sin City? Huh. Well, at least you learned about the balconies. Avoid them, but if you have to go on one, stay away from the railing. And people named Brian who MIGHT have slurped one too many Hurricanes and is a bit motor-skill challenged at the moment… 😉
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Sad but true. Maybe some day. Especially now that I am better educated and know better what to avoid and who..
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That fine filigree looks like it could do one a mischief during Mardi Gras.
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Isn’t that always the way with fine filigree? Damn artsy metalwork. I never trust it…
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All my knowledge of New Orleans is formed by the TV show, ‘Treme’, the ‘Live and Let Die’ James Bond film and your posts. I shall have to go one day to see if that’s been a pretty good mix of sources.
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I suspect that you would rather enjoy the visit, if I may be so bold. You seem to be as eclectic as I am, and New Orleans is all about eclecticism. I would also add the movie “Red” to your viewing pursuits, as it contains a violent car-chase montage that resolves itself at an intersection in the French Quarter that is right outside the tiny hotel where we always stay whilst visiting NOLA. If you freeze the movie just right, you might spot me standing on the sidewalk, clutching a beignet and discreetly wetting myself over having been nearly killed during the frenzy… 😉
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I hope you remembered to ask her to remove the curse from the cat😲 Of course, cats don’t need to be cursed to go after our tender parts if the mood suits them 😱
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Dang it, I forgot about that curse and did not take preventive action. On the flip side, Scotch the Cat has moved on to greater things, so I would imagine that our nethers are safe. For now… 😉
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I love New Orleans and was fortunate my youngest son spent four years in school there and provided many excuses for us to visit. Unfortunately many of the excuses revolved around his inability to attend class and graduate.
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That sounds a bit tragic and disappointing, but I can certainly understand the allure of New Orleans disrupting an educational path. After all, I dropped out of college in Tulsa because I felt I needed to go find myself in any place that wasn’t Tulsa… 😉
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