My Hometown

I grew up in the last century. Back in the last century, I grew up in a hometown before crack. Before meth. Before teenagers on bikes had guns. Before AIDS and hepatitis. Before daily mass shootings. I could go anywhere, whenever, and it was reasonable to conclude I would get back safely. Public transit at 3 am. Drinking in a bar till dawn. Back when life expectancy was, well, the life expectancy.

My hometown was New Orleans and, except for the "drinking till dawn part," the other things apply to any hometown, really.

Now there's crack cocaine and addictions. There are addictions and then there are addictions. When I was growing up, everyone cared whether they lived or died. Now there are those who not only don't care whether you live or die, they don't even care whether they live or die. And they're the ones with guns. At 3 am and — really — any other time, too.

When I was growing up, there was no road rage worse than the birds that were flipped.

Of course, back then we had fluorocarbons, DDT, leaded gasoline, lots of nuns, and lots and lots of asbestos. No seatbelts. But I think I'd rather take my chances with the past, because the music and food in my hometown made it worth it. Do remember, though, it was New Orleans.