New Orleans in 50 words or less (give or take a few hundred)

There is great faith here, and living in the breach, under different flags, has taught each generation that suffering is as much a part of life as great feasts and celebration. The joy of Mardi Gras cannot exist without the sacrifice of Lent.

Wright Thompson captures the city those 43 words. He has several hundred more in his piece Saints the soul of America’s city, on ESPN.com [via Visit New Orleans].

I first visited New Orleans for my friend’s law school graduation in 2001 (maybe 2002, I can’t remember). I went with my sort-of-but-not-quite-ex boyfriend. When I stepped out of the airport to get a cab to our hotel, the warm, humid, funky late-May air grabbed me around its shoulders with both its arms. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Stepping out of LaGuardia Airport in the summer time (I’m a Long Island native) feels and smells much the same way. In that moment, I decided I loved New Orleans.

I don’t think there is a more sensual city in America. The French Quarter and Vieux Carre are visually enthralling. Most of the year, the weather is warm and humid and the air sits on your skin. You can navigate your way to Bourbon Street by the strength of the piss-and-vomit smell. The food culture — beignets, crawfish, chicory coffee, gumbo, etouffee, the sazerac, the hurricane, and bourbon milk punch — is incredible and unparalleled by damn near any city in the United States. The city is the birthplace of jazz music. Art and artists can be found all over the French Quarter and the Warehouse district. Magazine Street is on fire with local artists and crafts people. There’s the old creak of the street cars, and Canal Street is lit up by neon at night.

But it’s also a city with a heavy heart. I think what I love most about New Orleans is its melancholy. Laissez les bon temps rouler is one of the city’s catchphrases, and yes, they let the good times roll. But you get the sense that the reason they let the good times roll is because if the city doesn’t laugh, it will surely cry. New Orleans has a history of natural disasters, tropical disease, stagnant economic growth, high crime, and poor governance. Even before hurricanes Katrina and Rita, a sense of sadness was a palpable part of the city’s mood.

My upcoming trip will be my third visit to New Orleans this year. It’s a beautiful place. It’s a crazy place. At times, it is also a dangerous place. But more than anything, it’s a special place — possibly my favorite city in America.