But first, a topical Louisiana aside: how I long for high speed rail between Baton Rouge and New Orleans! Only a resident can really appreciate this. It’s a straight shot from one city to the other, but Louisiana’s hopeless, hapless, ineffective, and generally (universally?) incompetent Department of Transportation has been meddling with Interstate 10 between the two cities for my entire life. (Literally.) The same two miles of highway leading into New Orleans have been under construction for at least a decade, and now they’re attempting some sort of elevated extension that guarantees another lifetime of setbacks, funding issues, potholes, car accidents, redesigns, land disputes, orange cones, and gridlock. Simply put, automobiles are the worst way to commute between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, eliminating a mutually beneficial job market, labor force, tourism source, and real estate investment opportunity. (Yes, people do make the commute. But what should be an hour’s drive takes double that on bad days. Not many are up for it, with fuel prices alone.)

But high speed rail — just consider it! Existing lines, upgraded, would connect downtown Baton Rouge and the Superdome. (With stops, presumably, along the way — Gonzales, La Place.) No traffic. No headaches. No car accidents. A smooth, relaxing, productive trip. Add wi-fi (ubiquitous by the rail’s implementation) and you’ve got an extra hour to get work done, return emails, do homework (let us not forget the benefits to education!) and update Facebook. Downtown Baton Rouge, already engaged in a revitalization plan, could double its efforts. New Orleans — one need not even mention its needs — stands only to gain by every conceivable measure. A successful implementation, indeed, would bring to the forefront Baton Rouge’s abject failure of public transportation, and rejuvenate the system in New Orleans. A successful high speed railway station in the capital would surely spur calls to revive the streetcar system, and modernize the bus lines. (C.A.T.S. is a failure. Everybody knows it. But it is essential to the thousands of people who cannot afford automobiles. And therein lies the problem: people see it as being for “the poor,” and thus avoid it. [That is putting it gently on multiple fronts.] Only a substantial renovation can change that. Public transit for all! Perhaps someone could fly to Portland, take careful notes, and come back with a bus system that is safe, reliable, economical, and used by the majority. Baton Rouge isn’t so large that one should have to climb into an SUV to go to the mall.)

Mostly, though, I want to take my little girl to Audubon Zoo and be home by lunchtime. High speed rail can make that happen. The technology is ready. Louisiana has largely avoided the worst of the recession. New Orleans is ripe for far-reaching and meaningful urban development of the first order. Nothing should be off the table. I’m sure a clever politician could even make a disaster preparedness and security argument. How might a hurricane or terrorist attack evacuation look without I-10 gridlock and with a major railway running at full speed and full capacity?

(My little aside, it seems, has run to six-hundred words.) This is a virtual book tour, as I mentioned, so perhaps I should get to the book. Red Planet Noir takes place in the very distant future. Our hero, the down-and-out private eye Mike Sheppard lives in New Orleans, a city that has largely survived a nuclear apocalypse. As Mike observes, “bombs couldn’t do anything to us that we hadn’t already done to ourselves.” Mike’s dilapidated office is in the Hurwitz-Mintz building on Royal, across from Hotel Monteleone. Dolores Yu, the Watson to his Sherlock, works at the K&B drugstore.

On that point: long before the novel’s publication, I’d submitted the manuscript to a regional contest. It did quite well, though one of the judges took points from the final score. K&B, she carved in red, was no longer in business, and I clearly needed to research such details if I intended to write them. Fair enough, but everyone knows K&B is no longer. Indeed, one’s citizenship would be revoked for not knowing such a basic fact. My defense: the author crafts his or her Ideal World. And in my Ideal World, K&B is still around, still open on Christmas, still stocked with purple sacks, purple pencils, and that gorgeous purple oval sign. A little piece of Louisiana’s soul died when we lost K&B. A little piece of me died. But at least it lives in my book.

Mike Sheppard’s New Orleans is very real, and I tried to keep it geographically accurate. Here is Mike’s office:

Check out the gorgeous terrazzo on its stoop out front — I’d love to know how far this dates back:

From his office, through a broken pane of glass, Mike observes the Hotel Monteleone. Red Planet Noir isn’t the first novel to feature the landmark. Tennessee Williams, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, and Eudora Welty, among many, many others, all give mention to the Monteleone in their literature.

The gorgeous neon sign outside its garage:

K&B was bought by the execrable and utterly generic Rite Aid in the 90s. Nonetheless, in the book, this Walgreens is where K&B would stand (as opposed to Canal — or perhaps in addition to Canal, where it really was).

From the novel: I hoisted the plastic bag with one hand and donned my hat with the other. Outside, wind swept through the rain-slicked streets. A reflection of the violet K&B sign shimmered in puddles along the sidewalk. Pulling my coat tight, I leaned into the door. The wind pushed back.

In my world, K&B still shimmers. And the wind will always push back.

~

Sincere thanks again to Candace for kindly lending me her slice of the web. On Monday, the blog book tour returns at the blog of author Mindy Blanchard. I’ll describe the business of publishing from my small vantage point. A look into the sausage factory, if you will, at what happens when an author types THE END. I hope to see you there.

–

D.B. Grady is the author of Red Planet Noir.
He can be found on the web at http://www.dbgrady.com.

Jazzfest Grids | The Nearly-World-Famous Jazzfest Grids.

For a listing of Jazz Fest artists, click here.

For Saving Saints, Tagliabue Deserves a Place in the HallSIGN IN TO RECOMMENDTWITTERSIGN IN TO E-MAILPRINTREPRINTSSHARE By DAVE ANDERSONPublished: February 13, 2010Over the Super Bowl weekend, the sentimental story was how the Saints had finally fulfilled their romantic return to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. The ignored story was that Paul Tagliabue’s name was not even in the discussion when the Pro Football Hall of Fame selectors met.

Full Article at: Sports of The Times – Tagliabue Deserves a Statue in New Orleans and a Place in the Hall of Fame – NYTimes.com.

YouTube – NFCCG 2009 Miked Up.

New Orleans breeds musical mutations. And no wonder — it’s in the air. Every club in the French Quarter keeps its doors open wide, allowing the sounds of jazz, blues, R&B, soul, hip hop and rock to blend into one jaunty blur.

It’s that’s cacophonous spirit that Galactic revels in. For the last decade, the five-man collective has used its funky instrumentals to accompany scores of guest singers and players. Like a modern answer to the Meters, or Booker T. & the MGs, Galactic has both a signature sound and an openness to other artists that makes them ideal collaborators.

They hit a creative peak on their 2007 CD, “From the Corner to the Block,” which hitched funky live beats to some of today’s most progressive rappers, including Chali 2na (of Jurassic 5) and Boots Riley (from the Coup). Together, they made the most brisk, danceable and creative hip-hop CD in far too long.

Now, for their chaser, “Ya-Ka-May,” Galactic uses hip hop as just one reference point. This time they spread the wealth among a gumbo of local styles. (The album’s title refers to an Afro-New Orleans stew based on whatever meat you’ve got hanging around.)

Read more: New Orleans hip-hop group Galactic’s ‘Ya-Ka-May’ is gumbo of local styles.

YouTube - Etta James – Sunday Kind Of Love.

I’m not angry with anyone who doesn’t understand the complexities of race and culture. And I’m also not interested in having long, drawn out conversations about how it’s possible for me to look like this and speak Spanish. In fact, sometimes I make it a point not to mention my parents’ birthplace because I don’t always feel like having the inevitable discussion that follows. Instead, I let people look at me and come to their own conclusions. As I start to get my feet wet in Hollywood, I already know that there are certain parts I won’t even be considered for. The character can be Puerto Rican and speak Spanish just like me, but Hollywood defines Latina as Jennifer Lopez and Sofia Vergara. As beautiful as they are, we’re not all one race in Latin America. But I don’t go to auditions so that I can give history lessons to film executives. I’d rather skip the entire process.

Personal Essay: Yo Soy Boricua » I am Lala » Alani “Lala” Vazquez.

Introducing Nigerian-born singer Nneka! I’m likin her sound!

Born in Nigeria, Nneka relocated some 10,000 miles to Hamburg, Germany, at the age of nineteen to pursue a career in singing along side a degree in Anthropology. Having landed in the German port, the singer hooked up with DJ and Hip-Hop beatmaker DJ Farhot and ever since, their strong musical relationship has been the backbone of Nneka’s success. Her influences reflect her younger days in Nigeria as well as her time in the Western world. The distance she has travels shines through in her voice as does her diverse musical influences. She cites famous compatriot Fela Kuti and legend Bob Marley as well as contemporary rappers Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Mobb Deep and Lauryn Hill as key influences in her pursuit of musical recognition.

Check her out at:  NNEKA on MySpace Music

6 iPhone Internet Radio Apps For Every Type Of Listener.