There are two types of people in this world: those who like to work for their food and those who don’t.
People who like to work for their food are often fond of shellfish (cracking lobster claws, picking meat out of crab legs, peeling the shells off shrimp) and these people are often the ones who, when they eat a roasted chicken, identify and devour every last edible morsel. I’m not one of those people.
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When the BP oil spill happened, newscasters and journalists alike spoke of the devastating effect this would have on the Louisiana seafood industry. For most of us, that industry was just an abstraction. We imagined men and women in boats or on docks, but we didn’t have any specific images in our heads (except the ones that we saw on TV). Which is why I jumped at the opportunity to join a trip arranged by the Louisiana Seafood Board to meet the men and women who were most affected by what happened in the Gulf. This is the story of what I encountered.
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When you arrive in New Orleans, the first place that you’ll probably go is Cafe du Monde. There are a few reasons for this: (1) it’s open 24 hours; (2) it’s a New Orleans mecca, for locals and tourists alike; and (3) the beignets that they serve there are so dang good, they’ll haunt your dreams.
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We were walking to dinner in a large group when the parade began to pass. I’d heard of jazz funerals, where the friends and family of the recently deceased march through the streets with music and dancing, a celebration of life in the face of death. This wasn’t that. This was a wedding parade; with a band and parasols and white handkerchiefs being waved. Here, I shot a video.
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