While WOEFULTOURIST is a proud, God fearing, tote toting American, one of the things which he cannott dismiss, like most of the stuff he puts off until tomorrow so he won’t have to deal with it at all, is how “dis” united we are on most things as a nation.
And by “dis” united he means “not” united, as opposed to how some parts of this fine nation spell and pronounce “this”.
Hopefully that will minimize the confusion before he gets to the really confusing part.
Because once you get past some of the Bill of Rights, the American flag, grandma’s apple pie and Chevrolet, there seems to be more things which separate us as a nation, than unite us.
Rather than spew on philosophical about the whole schmeer (Jersey/New York term that the rest of the country doesn’t use, or comprehend why one spreads it on a bagel) WOEFULTOURIST will compare how things in his home state of Jersey differ from those same things in his adopted state of New Orleans.
Because while both exist in the overall universe of America, they also exist within their own little worlds that happen to spin at different rpm’s.
Alcohol and Bars
In Jersey, bars have a specific opening and closing time – rarely later than 2 am.
In New Orleans, bars open and close when they feel like. This is dependent upon the heat, the amount of paying customers needing service, and whether or not the Saints, or LSU have a game that night.
In Jersey, walking in public with an open container of alcohol is illegal.
In New Orleans, Huge Ass Beers are not only tolerated, but widely advertised. Okay, technically speaking you’re not supposed to be walking around with an open bottle of alcohol. This is purely a preventative measure to protect the amateur drunk from falling down and cutting themselves on the broken glass. Plus, blood in the street is a real pain in th “you know what” to clean properly. And we all know the great lengths which the French Quarter goes to make sure the streets are clean and snell like a Spring meadow.
In Jersey, you say, “What’s up?”
In New Orleans, you say, “Hey, Bubba, where y’at?”
Guys Talking About Their Women
In Jersey, it’s, “I met her at a bar. Mutual friends introduced us. She’s a teacher / lawyer / nuclear physicist. And she makes a chicken parm that will knock your socks off.”
In New Orleans, it’s, “I met her at the bar where she works three days a week. She’s thinking of going back to school, maybe next semester. She can’t cook worth a lick, but she sure knows how to pour a mean fireball. Did I tell you she just got a new tattoo on her back. They’re Chinese letters which mean, ‘Lucky in love’, or something like that. It’s pretty cool.”
In Jersey, it’s, “I’ve got two options, neither of them real exciting. I can take the Parkway north to 78 west, then take 24 west to 287 North to get to 80 west – which is the quick way; or I can take the Parkway north to 287 north to 80 west. Even without traffic we’re talking about an hour and a half at best.”
In New Orleans, it’s, “No biggee. Once I hop on I-10 I can be there in 15 minutes, tops.”
In Jersey, it’s St. Patrick’s Day, Memorial Day Weekend, 4th of July, Labor Day Weekend and the Christmas season which runs from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve.
In New Orleans, it’s, “What weekend is this, again?”
In Jersey, if on a Monday you ask someone what they had to eat, they will not only go into the most minute detail of their meal, they will give an entire 10 minute review of the establishment from the table setting, to the attitude of the wait staff.
In New Orleans, if on a Monday you ask someone what they had to eat, they will look at you with a “you’re kidding, right” stare and simply respond, “It’s Monday.”
For those still pondering the previous statement, WOEFULTOURIST refers you to Wikipedia where you should search for, “New Orleans red beans and rice – it’s a Monday thing.”
In Jersey, they’re crazy, they don’t use blinkers when changing lanes, they expect you to get out of their way because they’re trying to get somewhere, and they drive as fast as they can.”
In New Orleans, they’re crazy, they don’t use blinkers when changing lanes, they expect you to get out of their way because they’re trying to get somewhere although they’re not in any real hurry so they drive as slow as they can.
Hmm, maybe WOEFULTOURIST spoke a little too soon, and completely out of turn, sister. Please don’t reach for the metal ruler. He’s learned his lesson, though he’ll probably do it again.
In spite of his original hypothesis, maybe, in America, we are more united than “dis”.
Maybe deep in our core, we are all nothing but that same bloody mass of indecipherable, undifferentiated tissue yearning to be free.
Maybe it’s as TBR has postulated all these years, “Unity through diversity”.
Then again, the world being what it is, maybe not.