Mournful Carnival.

There is no place more American in America than New Orleans, this most francophile of cities. Nineteen million people visit New Orleans in a year, most of them Americans. An America without New Orleans would not be America at all. It would be something else. The country would have too many cares.

The real world has impinged on the City That Care Forgot in ways that it rarely (ever) does. If it can happen here, it can happen anywhere. The bubble is popped. Was the dream of New Orleans ever real?

Yes. Just as there is a real Santa Claus, there is a real New Orleans. We carry it in our hearts.

Yesterday was Twelfth Night. Today is Carnival. While the city mourns its Bourbon Street dead, while we tend the Bourbon Street wounded, while we try to make sense of the insanity of tragedy, it is Carnival. There is magic in the air.

This is New Orleans. The first Mardi Gras may have happened in Mobile, Alabama (as they will be more than happy to tell you, should you visit) but it is become perfected in New Orleans. The time is now. There are two masks that symbolize Carnival. One laughs while the other weeps.

This is New Orleans. The richness of life is always on full parade.