What (and why) nolanimrod?
The NOLA part:
When my daughter was still a little girl I went to New Orleans to see her for her birthday. And never left. I felt like I was born for the place. It was like the Hippie Ideal of the 60’s without all the meanness.
Rents were incredibly cheap. People were selling “chiffarobes” to each other for around $20 that would later be in antique shops for $1000, the liquor flowed 24.7 and even the street bums were gourmet chefs, as I found out on my first Thanksgiving there, when everybody brought something, including a homeless poet who showed up with oyster and artichoke dressing. I soon had a job in a music club where I was on a first name basis with people I’d previously seen only on record album covers.
I went through a bunch of New Orleans adventures: discovering the French Quarter and the West Bank, learning to buy oysters by the sack from the oystermen because they’re almost free that way, getting killed and brought back to life by the neurosurgeons at Ochsner Hospital, then spending a year at an adult day-care center called Kingsley House, and then renting an apartment from a wonderful man who later sold me the building and helped me buy it.
The building was a little shotgun double there (aka, to the rest of the country, a duplex), the rent of which paid my expenses, and I figured to die there.
I got there at perhaps the absolute high tide of New Orleans. It went downhill from there, culminating in Katrina.
Katrina washed me first to Bossier City, LA, then to Shreveport,LA, then to Geneva in upstate New York, a fantastic city to get your marbles together.
Nolanimrod is a concatenation of New Orleans, LA (it’s local shorthand; we addressed letters that way: so and so-and-so, NOLA) and Nimrod. Nimrod was, in the bible, a mighty hunter and, in the bible, the architect of the Tower of Babel. And, in general parlance, a doofus. It fit. NOLA Nimrod.
Here is a picture of NOLA Nimrod after viewing his house for the first time after Katrina.
NOLA Nimrod after going into his house
Looking pretty good considering he had walked in the house for all of one minute and then coughed, sneezed, and had streaming eyes and a running nose for the rest of the day. Those EPA guys in Shreveport weren’t kidding about the TOXIC part of toxic mold and mildew.
The strange orange markings on the door mean that
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- there were no dead bodies inside,
- that the house was a total waste,
- and the ID of the crew making the evaluation.