I am not a resident of New Orleans, but I love the city as if it were my home town.
Chris Rose , in his latest column explains one of the thousand reasons that the city is so loved by its inhabitants:
A place where the glass is neither half full nor half empty and, in fact, is not even a glass but a plastic cup, a trinket most likely made in China and of no monetary value whatsoever but it's got some words or a drawing on the side that remind you of something good, some perfect time and place, something vivid and specific, a night with strangers and friends, and that cup sits on your desk or your mantle alongside your most cherished possessions.
Craig Giesecke, over at Metroblogging explains the simple pleasures of New Orleans
My daughter's in town. During last night's light rain, we went for coffee at the Cafe du Monde and then for a sazerac over at Tujague's. In between, we walked around (deserted) Jackson Square and stuck our heads into the Cafe Pontalba. A rainy night is my favorite time in the French Quarter, for some reason, and we just walked around tallking and laughing and window-shopping. We did, basically, nothing. Our total expenses were less than $12. It was delightful.
Yeah, you right.