The Town Where the Good Times Stay

One of my favorite recording artists is Lucinda Williams. And every time I’ve heard someone in the media refer to Lake Ponchatrain over the past few days, I’ve thought of Lucinda’s song “Crescent City.” It’s from her self-titled album and is one of several songs I put on a mix a few years back (along with a lil’ Neil Young from Silver & Gold), and I learned them all by heart during a very, uhm, exhilarating time in my life.

: )

In her liner notes for this song, Lucinda wrote, “I went through a lot of changes growing up in Baton Rouge and New Orleans with my brother, Robert, and my sister, Karyn, between 1965 and 1970. My music started there.”

Crescent City

Everybody’s had a few
Now they’re talkin’ about who knows who
I’m goin’ back to the Crescent City
Where everything’s still the same
This town has said what it has to say
Now I’m after that back highway
And the longest bridge I’ve ever crossed
Over Ponchatrain

Tu le ton son temps
That’s what we’d say
We used to dance
The night away
Me and my sister, me and my brother
We used to walk down by the river

Mama lives in Mandeville
I can hardly wait until
I can hear my zydeco
And lassiz le bon ton roulet
And take rides in open cars
My brother knows where the best bars are
Let’s see how these blues’ll do
In the town where the good times stay

Tu le ton son temps
That’s what we’d say
We used to dance
The night away
Me and my sister, me and my brother
We used to walk down by the river

— Lucinda Williams

I love how she specifically mentioned 1965 (the year I was born!) in her notes. And this part: “Me and my sister, me and my brother / We used to walk down by the river” — ’cause, y’know, we did. And we’d climb on the trestle, sometimes, and shortcut back home along the railroad, wondering, the whole time, what we’d do if we actually came face-to-face with those hoboes that Bobby always claimed he’d see from time to time on the trains.

We’d smoke, too, but thank goodness the habit never caught on with Debra or me. I’d probably be dead by now ... either from the cigarettes or from Mom having killed me if she ever found out.

: )

I read something earlier today on my friend Tim’s blog that troubled me greatly: A group claims that the damage from Hurricane Katrina was some kind of punishment from God because New Orleans, according to this group, is such a sinful place. The group’s director goes on to say that, hopefully, “from the devastation may a city full of righteousness emerge.”

Which comes across, to me, as a very hate-filled response, completely lacking in compassion. Kind of a “they got what they deserved” mentality that makes me fearful, once again, of some of the things that are said/done in the name of Christianity.

: (

More later, but not on this topic.