The Fuss is About Nothing

Now, this is a New Orleans thing.
Now, this is a New Orleans thing.

After seeing the little pile of sticks, twigs and pines cones, a friend of mine in real life — IRL for all you digitrons —  posted on Facebook, “Only in New Orleans.”

Well, maybe.

You are less likely to see something like yesterday’s post than you are to see the subject of today’s post. This, is real life New Orleans. A dead cigarette butt and a half eaten crawfish. Hopefully, it was eaten by a cat.


Whoever bit into this crawfish had no clue what he was doing. Pull the head off. Suck the head. Peel back the shell on the tail. Crack it. Pull out the meat. Any New Orleans toddler knows how to do that. Have a stack of old newspapers nearby, covering the table because all the trash goes on that. After you are done, pull the whole thing together and toss it.

That’s why it is toddler approved. They can make a food mess. They know that the adults will be worse.

The cigarette butt. Well, they say we are at least 50 years behind the times.

The picture. I try to photograph what I see. Like a photojournalist. The art stuff really comes in post production. Like a painter. If this were truly a New Orleans still life, there would be a go cup in the picture, dribbling out the remains of a daiquiri that you bought in a drive through shop. Drinking and driving.

See? I told you. Fifty years behind the times.


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