I know. I know what you’re thinking. This some useless shoo-shoo. But it ain’t.
This a warning. Look out. White folks (i.e Gentrifiers) comin’. Higher taxes. A lil’ bit of money for your old house, going to cost twice as much once they remodel. So forth and so on.
The real deal is what was once cheap is now far beyond your means. So forth and so on.
Did you heard me? Life in New Orleans is changing. Changing times, changing ways. Survival requires dinero. Gotta be a big money grip to live comfortable. No matter, up or downtown.
I know this sounds like semi-literate belly aching. But Betsy. Katrina. And now this. How much can one (two, or even a community of somebodies) stand?
I don’t pretend to know the answer, but how to live under somebody else’s dictates is not the question. Two lane streets, now are one lane and a biking lane. Is that really a solution? Or is that a dee-volution? A comedown that’s really a come up-pence. If getting rid of Negroes is an improvement, then you trying to transform a chocolate eclair into angel food cake.
I know you think this some mess I’m starting, but if new residents don’t start no shit, then there won’t be none. New Orleans is an old city. Got old ways, old culture.
I know everything must change–been that way since day one–but change don’t mean getting rid of old folks. Yeah, yeah, I know crime is bad and we be killing, shooting, and looting each other. But damn, Sam. This new shit ain’t going to get it.
Can’t we all get along?
Bland living ain’t for me. I likes flava in my food. Spice in my dirty rice. Hot sauce on my poboys (oh, I forgot, some y’all call them sandwiches). Here is the rub. Here culture clashes is much more than just a news report about Black folk letting their hair grow wild. “Relax. Just relax yourself.” Really? You really think the lye about relaxing is acceptable?
Well, you fixing to make me go off. And if you don’t know what I mean, you better ask somebody. Flagboy Giz, where you at? Sound the alarm. They mean to white-wash the whole damn city. Make it look like the white cliffs of dover or the walls around a cemetery.
Stand tall peoples. Hold the line. Resistance is the word. We won’t bow down!