That’s what we in the crowd were singing as the second-line brass band played. We stood together, on the corner and on the “neutral ground” on Claiborne Ave. in front of the Martin Luther King Jr. Charter School, the first educational institution (K-10th grade) to open in the Lower Ninth Ward since Katrina hit landfall.
The band played, and we danced, waiting behind the barricades for the President to emerge from his meeting with the kids, and we’re not too embarrassed to say we haven’t felt that much joy and anticipation and starstruck-ness in a crowd gathered just to see a person’s head go by in a car, like, EVER.
Obama may be more of a rock star than the Beatles ever were.
New Orleans’ Finest were out in full force, proud and alert. (*creepy lecherous old-lady voice*) Many of them looked quite fetching in their uniforms.
And then the excited screams of children and adults chanting his name. And then there he was, Mr. America:
The jumping, wiggling, squealing ladies standing beside us reminded us of our pre-teen selves at a Bon Jovi concert:
And as he passed, the band played a second-line rendition of Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World.” We usually recoil at that song, but this time, we kind of cried from joy. A little… We’re still cool, right? Punk points!
Ironically enough — naaa, SERENTYPICALLY enough — we walked back home via this intersection:
And then we passed this house. Expletive deleted; political sentiment remains.
Not that we want to sign off on a negative note. Because today, in the Lower Ninth Ward, in our new home, we feel anything but. We usually don’t talk about politics, and we know it’s all just showbiz, but we can’t deny what we feel today.
Rubes, all of us.
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