Out on the road.

L

ouisiana is leading the country in Covid-19 infections. We are nowhere near 70% vaccination rate. Orleans Parish beat the CDC in mandating masks indoors again.

Now I’m starting to hear whispers in the wind that musical venues will close again and that includes both Jazzfest and French Quarter Fest. The loss of both of them will cost the city a lot of money. It’ll hurt musicians once again.

The anti-vaxxers are causing this.

Not only are we leading the country in new infections, but we are among the bottom two or three states in vaccinations.

Many of my friends are angry. I’m angry. Until the virus is managed or defeated I can’t doo much of anything. And, the things that I do have to be thought of through the lens of risk v reward.

It also seems the regional and local leaders are handling this better than our national leaders, at least in blush states. In other states legislators are moving to restrict scientists and governors.

Then, there are people like Ron DeSantis, the governor of Florida who restricts masking and vaccinations. He says that his state is doing just fine, if almost six thousand new infections per day is doing fine.

This isn’t a political issue. Or, it shouldn’t be. This is a life and death issue.

Anti-Vaxxers claim that their freedom is being restricted if they are forced to get jabbed.

Nonsense.

What about my freedom to not get sick and die? Let’s put it this way. If I get sick I have nothing to lose. I’m coming for you. My breath will be like dragon’s breath.

That’s just how angry I am.

W

hen I was first diagnosed with CLL, once we got over the shock, we took a drive to Natchez, Mississippi.

That’s about a three or four hour trip. It took us ten hours.

We stopped to take pictures just about everywhere. Broken down buildings, Civil War battle fields, cemeteries, and old stately plantation houses and just about everything else in between.

We stayed in Natchez for three days and explored the area. Because I was here, there and everywhere, people got to know me.

You know that’s how I work. I talk to people. We’d be walking to a scene, and some guy would be biking in the other direction and would wave hi because he met us somewhere else.

Anyway.

This is a drive through shooting.

You can almost see where the camera is located at the top of the dashboard.

It was a little sporty, but I was careful. To me, it was one of those risk v reward things. It was different than being around people, but in many ways the same.


In the middle of nothing.
In the middle of nothing.

Yep. In the middle of nothing. This place is in Hollygrove about as far removed as it can be from the rest of the city and still be located in Orleans Parish. In fact, if you look to the right and across the railroad tracks, that’s Jefferson Parish and another world. Although… this house is other worldly enough. There were other houses surrounding this one. But, the storm helped clean up this neighborhood. ┬áThe street that is beyond the railroad tracks is Airline Highway, or the famed Highway 61. If I remember correctly, Airline Highway was cut in two by Katrina just about here. You couldn’t use it to get into New Orleans. Nor could you use it to leave.

The picture. A lot of heavy post production. How else can I keep making grungy New Orleans pictures?


Dusk
A Scary Street

Well, not so scary. Just a little bleak. I’ve always wanted to explore this street. When I drove to the end of it, there was a dead-end… in a motel parking lot. It was one of those twenty-dollar a night places. One of those places where they change the sheets every week whether they need it or not. But, when I turned around in their lot, I saw this scene which sort of suited my mood. So I made the picture. Once again, the light was perfect. Too perfect. Didn’t make sense in the context of the scene. That’s sort of a theme lately. So. Into the studio I went and started playing around… okay, experimenting. And, eventually, through a lot of trial and error, I came up with this. When, I looked at this after a day or so — you know I like to let pictures marinate — it reminded me of some dust storm in the midwest. Low yellow-green light. Weird sun. Dim. A little eerie. Something off.