New Orleans

I was just in New Orleans for training as part of my new job.  We stayed at a hotel in the heart of the French Quarter, and it was about four thousand degrees outside, with at least 98% humidity.  I think I have issues with the South.  It was hot and unpleasant as all hell; I don’t care for the Southern accent; it was depressing to be in New Orleans just shy of the second anniversary of Katrina (although I was pleased with the sense of flip/dark humor about the whole thing down there — I ate at a restaurant that had a cocktail called the Katrina Rita — can you imagine the “9/11 Martini” back home? Or the Mychal Judge Margarita?); and all the food was expensive and/or gumbo-ish or jambalayesque.  Bourbon Street is a collection of loud, cheesy places with very pushy staff (some girl twisted my nipple in the belief that this would change my mind about buying a jello shot from her.  It did not.)  I hate to be such a cliche, but I really do start to break out in hives whenever (other than on vacation with C in Italy) I’m outside of New York for more than 48 hours.

Probably not an original thought

Bill Clinton gets credited as being the “first black president”.  I was listening to a segment on Brian Lehrer this morning about Eliot Spitzer’s VETO of a (unanimously passed!) welfare bill that, as I understand it from the news coverage, would have increased “workfare” recipients’ access to higher-paying jobs (such as in construction) in New York State.  The segment reminded me of the now-decade old hypocritical project that is Welfare Reform.  Clinton signed Welfare Reform legislation in 1996 that forced women off of public assistance within 5 years and into jobs generally paying minimum wage (or two or three dollars better an hour, if you’re lucky).