Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Money Can't Buy You Love in New Orleans


Money can buy a lot of things in New Orleans, things you haven't even thought of, but money can't buy you love in New Orleans.  It can't buy you love anywhere, why should it here?

Some people learn this when they are growing up, because they are loved and their family doesn't have a lot of money.  It is impossible to put a price on love.  It is the only thing a person can't buy.  A kid can't put a quarter into a machine and get love the way he or she can get a gum ball or a handful of chiclets.

From what I've seen, a lot of people learn this the hard way.  Most of the men I know have learned it the hard way, as young men.  Money can't buy you love in New Orleans.  I hear somebody say that in conversation at least once a month.  I hang out with a lot of older men. They should know.

Young men don't know the difference between love and happiness.  To tell the truth, I don't think that many young women know the difference either but I've never heard an older woman say that money can't buy you love in New Orleans.  I think women innately know better.  That's what Jimmy has told me.

I was talking to Jimmy today at Frey Smoked Meat Co., a barbecue restaurant in Mid-City that has a scenic view of the back of Office Depot and of Panera's loading dock from Frey's front patio.  Smoked chicken, pulled pork, ribs, sausage, brisket, and PORK BELLY.  What's not to like?   Jimmy and I both agree that Frey's has the best coleslaw in the city.  It's much better, even, than Stein's.

Jimmy pulled up an old photo on his phone of the Ali vs. Spinks fight in New Orleans 42 years ago.

"I was only thirty then," Jimmy said.  "Five guys I knew from all over the country, they came down for this fight and I showed them around the city.  They wanted to spend all their time in the French Quarter.  I couldn't blame them."

Jimmy was feeling a little under the weather today so he only ordered an iced tea.  He didn't feel like sitting, either, it made him feel stiff, so he stood and talked to me while taking nips at his iced tea while he told me this story.  He doesn't have much of a waist so he hikes up his pants when it occurs to him.

"Bourbon Street and those blocks off Bourbon, on Iberville and Bienville, especially the riverside ones, they were places where a group of 30-year old guys could get into trouble.  Much more than today.  Today they may as well hand out pacifiers at the door.  Back then you if you wanted to suck on a nipple, you'd ----------"  I'm going to censor this last part.  You get the idea.

Use your imagination to imagine what Bourbon Street used to be like in 1978.  Those were different times.  That's what people still think Bourbon Street is like.  It's not even close.  Ask Jimmy.

"We didn't think anything could hurt us.  We didn't think we'd get sick.  We were wild.  We were bulletproof.  I'll tell you, you could get in a lot of trouble back then, and, we did.  They all got the clap.  They're all dead now.  I'm the only one left."  Jimmy didn't say this with any remorse.  It's just a statement of fact that ends most of his stories.  

"Money can't buy you love in New Orleans.  I told them that but they wouldn't listen.  They sure had a good time, though.  They weren't here for love.  They were here to watch the Ali-Spinks fight and have a good time around that.  The had a good time.  They had a good time and they got the clap." Jimmy chuckled.  "When you're young, you don't know any better.  When you get older you have to remind yourself.  Even then you don't always listen."

I asked Jimmy if he had bet money on the fight.

"Even back then I always bet the long shot for the best payoff," Jimmy said.  "I bet Spinks.  Everyone else bet Ali.  I lost money that night but I'm the only one still breathing."

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