The Problem of Sports Mascots and Logos

Since America pretty well has all its national and regional problems licked, there's been a lot of commentary about the appropriateness of certain sports teams logos or mascots. The latest one to be changed is by the Cleveland Indians baseball team, which retired Chief Wahoo after more than 60 years.

Now I'm confused and conflicted about this in several ways. In what way does The Mistake by the Lake have with Indians? So Indians may have lived there at one time; but they were apparently mild-mannered and polite.

No, I'm not sorry to see Chief Wahoo go. He was a particularly ugly and uncute mascot.  But there are other of these. For some reason, apparently the University of Notre Dame styles itself the Fightin' Irish; and has adopted am even more singularly ugly mascot of a belligerent leprehcaun with bad hair:

Now this pugnaciousness may go along with the self-image of Irish-Americans, who also apparently don't mind this Catholic university adopting their ethnic group to name their teams. And we have the example of the University of Louisiana at Lafayette's teams being known as the Ragin' Cajuns. (No cute or ugly mascot as yet.) And apparently Cajuns are okay with UL - L's nickname. At least no hind quarters of raccoons are involved  Florida State's Seminoles also get a pass; but the institution represents Seminoles respectfully and the Seminole tribe apparently likes it.

New Orleans's pro football team is known as the Saints. Is there irony underfoot there? I suspect  so. And their basketball team goes by the Pelicans. 

Candywuss Chili

Pardon me, gentle readers (is anyone still there, considering  my spotty record of blogging), while I lapse into real controversy. No, not the political carnage that sadly 
happens daily, not sex, but a remark about food.

Now I previously evinced* some displeasure with the notion of culinary cultural appropriation (hell, if you're Irish and you want to do lutefisk, go for it, baby! I will not judge you. But the notion of Cincinnati chili totally astonished me! And saddened me. What is that, you might say?

Well, it's a weak, hyped-up sauce with tomato paste, cumin, nutmeg, allspice, a little chili powder, chocolate, possibly Worchestershire, and served over spaghetti and topped with cheese! Holy horse turds! And often oyster crackers are added. So sad! I encountered this is a regional restaurant which shall be unnamed.

Actually, I have the biggest problem with the nomenclature: call it Cincinnati meat sauce, if you desire such a culinary delight (?); but a righteous chili must be a savory beef and chili sauce, served with red beans or not. If you're adventurous, chop some chilis.

To my opinion, the real questions should be red or green, referring to the type of chili added. And Fritos or Doritos, as a side.

*https://evil-pop-tart.blogspot.com/2017/08/cultural-appropriation-in-food-choice.html

The Ethnics of New Orleans; and an Old Creole Ethnic Taunt

After the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, this little insulting verse was commonly used by the Creole children.

'Mericain coquin,

'Bille en nanquin;

Voleur du pain,

Chez miché D'Aquin.

Translated, roughly, it becomes:

American crook,

Dressed in nankeen;

Stealer of bread,

From the place of Monsieur D'Aquin.

There were frictions between the French-speaking locals and the newly-immigrating Americans after the Louisiana Purchase.  Some of the problems came because most often the Americans who arrived in New Orleans were the flatboat- or keelboatmen; who felt a desire to cut loose after poling down the Mississippi for several weeks.  Therefore, there was the sense of "there goes the neighborhood."

Like little bits of folklore, it persisted well into later times in certain areas. Even when most Orleanian kids spoke only English.

New Orleans was always a melting pot: the original settlers were French; some brought slaves.  Some intermarried with Native Americans.  The original Creole (white or mixed race) population was joined by the Cajuns, the Spanish, the Canary Islanders, the refugees from Santo Domingo, the Napoleonic refugees from the restoration, and lately, the Americans.  Still later, the Irish and the Germans.

Because of slavery, the African-American population was extensive from the start.  It expanded with the Haitian Revolution, in which sizeable numbers  of African-American and mixed ancestry people moved into New Orleans,  These latter immigrants became an extensive talented artisan class; for example, accounting for the elaborate ornate grill work in the French Quarter.  They were referred to as Free Persons of Color. They also had a few that practiced voodoo. But, most importantly, they developed jazz into an art form.

By the 1880's, the Italians had arrived; and the Dalmatians had moved into the shrimp and oyster business in Plaquemines Parish.  Still later came the Cubans and the Filipinos.

New Orleans is a tapestry of racial and ethnic groups. And interesting restaurant choices when you move away from the old, traditional, (expensive) ones.

There's several really good neighborhood restaurants. You don't have to go to the costly ones! And, there's always the Cafe du Monde for beignets and coffee. And a stroll in Jackson Square or on the Moonwalk afterward.

The Inappropriate Gift

While the relationship between Officer Pete and Madeline the Prophetess was just moving past the early stages, it was evident that both were quite taken with each other. Talk about an unlikely combination!

This was noted by both the New Orleans Eccentric Union and the NOPD; and they wondered where this was going. And, to be frank, Madeline was not holding up her end in eccentricity so expected in New Orleans. OMG! Was she turning out to be the usual Lakeview* or Irish Channel* charmer?

Well, Pete wanted to gift Madeline a little token of his interest, so he asked Sgt. Angelo for some advice. The good Sergeant, in a spell of whimsy, said, "Why don't you give her a red bra"?

Now, in many circles, this might be seen as an inappropriate gift; something to cause someone to be offended. But Pete was, despite his occupation, somewhat innocent of some ways of the world. (And unlikely to advance in the NOPD scheme of things.) He found the right one at a dance clothing supply store, of all places!

Anyway, the occasion came, and the grand moment occurred. Madeline was totally surprised. Awed!

And smiled! Broadly. He got her size right. Some good detective work there.

She promptly partially undressed, removed her plain bra, and replaced it with the new bra which was lacy and a bit sparkly! She was clearly pleased at his thoughtfulness and wore it for the rest of the evening even though her sweater was a trifle thin and she revealed herself somewhat.

Sometimes a girl just needs encouragement!

*Neighborhoods in New Orleans