You Either Love It or You Hate It

My first memory of New Orleans is of a Paul Young concert my parents and I attended in 1985. "Everytime You Go" was wildly popular. Young's gesture of pointing towards himself, and then towards the crowd in sychrony with the lyrics, was unforgettable. After the concert, we walked down Bourbon street. At age seven, I was mildly confused and immensely intrigued by the sites we encountered. As I curiously peered into one of the strip joints, a doorman warned, "Don't look in here girl; it'll make your eyes pop out!" It didn't, of course. Although I was shocked at the time, the City has since shown me far worse. Still, I'm smitten.