I miss my New Orleans. The New Orleans of my childhood and adolescence. But then again, I have missed that part for a long time.
I miss chasing dragonflies along Bayou St John and waving at the nuns in the covent that was across the street from my house on Mirabeau Avenue.
I miss Terry Flettrich singing “Fais do do” for the naps I never took.
I miss Mr Bingle.
I miss a sno-ball from Hansen’s SnoBliz.
I miss dancing on my father’s toes in the Blue Room for my birthday.
I miss getting sun damage lying on a beach towel in the driveway with my friends. In March.
I miss playing jacks on the cool concrete walkways in Bienville Elementary.
I miss eating at the Polynesian restaurant at Pontchartrain beach and being allowed to go ride the rides all by myself- with no one worrying that I was only 7 years old.
I miss the vanilla taffy sticks sold from little carts at City Park.
I miss playing tennis in City Park with Susan and Bruce (Bruce is not here anymore).
I miss playing guitar and chess with Jimmy.
I miss riding my bike everywhere- especially my peacock blue bike that took me down to the West Esplanade canal before it had a name.
I miss crawfish pizza.
I miss Veterans Highway turning into a gravel road not far from Lakeside Shopping Center.
I miss going to the Point with my boyfriend who shall remain nameless. (See below)
I miss buying cheap champagne at a drive in liquor store and drinking it with The Boyfriend and Bobby (not here anymore) and Judy by the old seal pavilion in Audubon park. Then finding a swing. Then DRIVING home.
I miss going on a date at the lakefront and almost getting arrested for standing in the Mardi Gras Fountain on a dare.
I miss going to the principal’s office at J C Ellis – especially since the teacher who always sent me was my best friend’s mother.
I miss going to the principal’s office at Riverdale High School.
I miss going to the Frostop for lunch because the teacher I had at Metairie Jr High liked me and let me go.
I miss wearing a blue gymsuit that was a one piece.
I miss gym. Why didn’t I appreciate it more? It was much more fun than a treadmill.
I miss going to to F&M Patio and dancing to the music of the very young Art and Aaron Neville.
I miss driving down St Charles Ave at Christmas to see the lights glitter in the leaded glass doors- with me wondering what really went on in those beautiful houses.
I miss eating in Bucktown when the restaurants served boiled crabs and shrimp on newspapers and there was no air conditioning- just ceiling fans.
I miss running behind the mosquito truck while it sprayed fumes all over us.
I miss buying creole tomatoes at the market and getting an oyster poboy before I went home.
I miss my high school buddies- if we had known how far flung we would be, would we have treasured one another more?
I miss my college friends- the same as above applies. If we could go back to Louisiana for one day…..
I miss driving a 1965 Plymouth Fury on the newly completed parts of I-10. I miss driving a VW Beetle to work at Ochsner.
I miss spending the night with Janis and going to run in track meets with her at the Jefferson Parish Recreation Dept track. It was the place where I discovered my freakish ability to high jump.
I miss going to stupid high school parties where we had no clue as to what the future would do to us.
I miss not having all the people I love accounted for. No safety of roll call or dorm check.
I miss Major (he is not here either). Not that I would have called him- but it was a comfort to know he was happy and alive and just being himself. I miss laughing with him and his adventures as a country mouse resident in the French Quarter.
I miss the comfort of all of those things. I miss the thunderstorms and the bayous and the streetcars and the friendly people. I miss what is gone and cannot come back.
To those who are gone, I miss you. Even if I would have never seen you again anyway.
And those who moved away know what I am talking about.
New Orleans was a wonderful city to grow up in. It was a great time.
I miss New Orleans.
