Author: Chris Rose

New Name and Logo TBD

  I grew up in Washington, D.C. I was a Washington Redskins fan. Hard core, unconditional, undying – the way young boys can be about their home teams. They sucked when I was a kid, despite such roster legends as…

Your Man on the Ground in Staples, Minnesota

  I am presently away from New Orleans, engaged in an annual summer tradition, a 4th of July gathering of my partner's extended family in the faraway idylls of central Minnesota. Her parents live in Staples, two and a half…

Wishes From a Tree

It’s the summer of no summer. Or maybe the Endless Summer. Hard to tell. Either or both. This issue of the magazine addresses the topic of “staycations.” Question: Are there any other kinds of “cations” these days? Me, I’m staycationing…

The Technicolor, Nonagenarian New Orleans Peter Pan

  There are a few rare souls who, by their very essence, define this city. Those who – in their exaggeration, aggrandizement, ostentation and unequivocal embrace of a life in full – are physical manifestations of this pinwheel of a…

Too Soon?

  I'm no epidemiologist – hell, I can't even pronounce that word so I may not be qualified to make this call – but as is often the case after disaster, destruction, death or a diatribe, some folks wonder out…

It's Complicated

  Hello, New Orleans. Welcome to the Juneteenth week of America's existential dread. How upside down is the world? NASCAR is leading the way with racial consolation and community. And yes, I understand that I am grabbing low-hanging fruit here.…

A Bad Year for the Mystic Krewe of Nyx

  I think we can all agree that 2020 has not been a very good year. But it's been a really bad year for the Mystic Krewe of Nyx. (And in what other city do people get to write a…

New Orleans Is Keeping It Together

  I generally try to keep politics out of these blog posts. But I ask you: What isn't political today? Going to the grocery store is political. Getting a haircut – or wanting to get a haircut – is political.…

Putting on the Pounds

COVID-19. Not just a lethal virus anymore. Now it’s also the name of the weight gain phenomenon experienced by many New Orleanians in the wake of the outbreak. COVID-19; that’s four pounds more than the traditional Freshman-15, that annual surge…

Another Addition To The Ain't Dere No More Ledger

  I never figured I would miss last call at Johnny White's. One reason is because they never closed. The little dive at the corner of Bourbon and Orleans was notoriously, relentlessly and defiantly always open. Without lights, AC, electricity…

These Walls Tell Our Story

  Nothing has ever looked more like the post-Katrina New Orleans apocalypse than the French Quarter and Frenchmen Street in recent weeks. Empty streets. Vacant buildings. The vigor of the neighborhoods now bereft of life, love, noise and revelry. Boarded…

Little Richard, New Orleans & Me

  In our younger and more vulnerable years, Little Richard and I were both dishwashers. I worked in the back of the house at a Turkish restaurant called Husnu's in Madison, Wisconsin, in the early 1980s. He worked at the…

Channeling My Inner Finn

I've been gone from this blog space for a little while. I took a voluntary leave of absence and involuntary leave of my senses. In short, I went crazy. I'm guessing you can relate. In these times, you either say…

A World Turned Upside Down

What if everything you wished for came true? I wish I had more time. I wish I didn’t have to go to school. I wish I didn’t have to go to work. I wish I could sleep in. I wish…

At Least It's Our Own Couch This Time

  Comparisons between corona and Katrina are inevitable. But here's one inescapable difference: In the wake of the storm, there was so much chaos, movement, pandemonium, adrenaline, rushing about, driving and crying, frantically searching – for people, pets, possessions. It…

Feels of Dreams

It’s that time of year, springtime in the city, April showers and May flowers, Sunday boils, second line parades, music festivals and church fairs. And baseball. I love baseball. Watching it, reading about it, talking about it, writing about it.…

Doomsday Gardens and Chicken Coops, How Are You Coping?

  Some folks are reacting differently than others. Hoard or donate. Night terrors or shrug it off. Sneeze into your elbow. Elbow dap. Or both. (Eww.) Isolate or reach out and tell everyone you love them. Toilet paper or banana…

Don't Squeeze the Charmin

  The most familiar admonition from the Book of Timothy in the New Testament tells us: Money is the root of all evil. But there's more to Timothy's story. Directly addressing the End of Times – the very Apocalypse –…

The Mud Bug Bop

  We gave the world jazz, and did anybody thank us? OK, maybe the French. We gave the world alligator wrestling, and did anybody thank us? OK, maybe the Australians. Poker, Rock 'n Roll, the Sazerac, Lucky Dogs and Richard…

13 Circles Of Hell

  I had a tour to give. That's what I do for a living. Unlike most tour days – I left my house in plenty of time to park for free in the Treme and walk to the meeting point…

The Chris Show

It’s weird: When you live in the midst of a secret, it can be hard to grasp that everybody doesn’t know about it. How many times – perhaps even in this issue of the magazine – have you heard the…

Beyond Bourbon Street

  Here we go. The home stretch. The final week. The sprint at the end of the marathon. All the parts, parcels and parades – the ways and means – of the last wild days and wicked nights of the…

A Man Without A Portfolio

  When folks around here get upset about local street musicians playing too loud, too late or too close to something, they generally work to pass a law. Several years ago, the Archdiocese convinced the city to create the St.…

The Sunny Sunset Years

  Over the decades, I've been one of those prone to bleak forecasts about the future, sometimes wondering if I even wanted to be a part of it. But I have found my reason at long last to go on.…

In Pursuit of a Chicken

This is an update to a story I wrote for this magazine back in 2015. Back then it was a memoir, a story of the past. Now it’s my life again. The topic is the Courir de Mardi Gras, perhaps…

If They Only Had An Access Road

  In November, I posted here a story about the “issues” at the Louis Armstrong International Airport. (See: myneworleans.com/terminal-trouble ) No doubt you've heard, read about or experienced the brand new state-of-the-art facility in Kenner which – at a cost…

A Neighborhood Story

  She's behind me in line at the corner grocery. I don't recognize her. She doesn't look local, not Mid-City at all. Black skirt, fashionable pumps, ironic hair cut. I'm guessing she's staying at a nearby AirBnB. This neighborhood is…

A Winning Team

  Let us now pause to bask in the glow of young men and their athletic feats and glory. No, no, no – not those guys. Not Joe Burrow and all that LSU stuff. I mean – well done and…

Doom of the Dome

  Maybe I'm just not Who Dat enough. Because, although I pledge as much fealty, allegiance – and many words with even more syllables – to the Bless You Boys as anybody else...I'm over it. Truth is, I was over…

Mr. Chill, More Than Just A Barber

It seems that death is a recurring theme in my writing these days. Chalk that up to the price of getting old. The people you know, love and admire start kicking off. That's…