New Orleans in the Time of COVID

I have just returned from New Orleans. My purpose in going was two-fold:

  1. To check out the French Quarter once more and see what’s what and where is where within walking distance of the corner of Bourbon and Canal. The truth is, it rained a bit much so my wet-cat routine was in full effect but I’m confident the writer’s retreat I’m planning won’t be disappointed to get about on foot.
  2. To visit with Mambo Sallie Ann Glassman and see the St. John’s Bayou ceremony for Marie Laveau.

It was nice to be welcome at Sallie’s place. She doesn’t let many from the “Weird Old Days” of the OTO hang about because she knows most of those people lack sincerity and can’t be trusted. It’s strange because I never felt like I belonged in the OTO, mainly because of cult-minded pricks like DeLage and Greenfield who went out of their ways to make me feel like “the other” in my neurodiversity and gayness. That was never how Sallie made me feel.

I can’t recommend this woman’s spiritual guidance enough. If you’re in New Orleans and need a reading, spiritual supplies, or just want to browse a genuine Voodoo store, please see her and her staff at the Island of Salvation. Note that she is requiring full masks be worn in the store (by “full” I mean properly worn, covering the nose and mouth). Do not go there to hassle her, her staff, or demand anything–they’ve got onsite security due in part to the arm-flailing, black-robe-wearing, Crowleyer-than-thou set.

Otherwise, the city is open, the streets are clear, the music is live and pumping, the drinks are strong and cheap, the cops are on horseback and friendly, and it’s just New Orleans–beautiful, big, and easy as ever.

Shriek into the Void...

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