The city that rewired my brain
On the first seasonably warm afternoon of my new life in New Orleans, I sat beneath a tree near Bayou St John with a six-pack of Abita, a folded newspaper, and the naive belief that geography alone could repair whatever felt fractured inside me. Everything about the city was foreign to me then – the oppressive heat, the Cajun vowels stitched into conversation, the disarming friendliness that confused a man raised on New York suspicion. A week earlier, I’d uprooted myself for a newspaper job that already showed signs of deterioration: a crumbling newsroom, shaky leadership, the unmistakable aura of decline. ….[READ]
Disclaimer: This story is auto-aggregated by a computer program and has not been created or edited by budgetbuddy.
Publisher: Source link
Publisher: Source link
