St. Charles

Confession: I have told many of you that St. Charles Ave in New Orleans is the namesake for the St. Charles on the Monopoly board game. That is false. Very sad news since that was one of my staple "interesting facts about New Orleans," but I felt you all deserved the truth. In case you were wondering, St. Charles Place in Monopoly was actually named after a restaurant or something in Atlantic City, New Jersey. And it doesn't even exist anymore--it's now called the Showboat Casino. Laaame. I might just keep telling people that Monopoly got it from our St. Charles...it's better that way. Most of the stories told by tour guides down here are of questionable authenticity anyway; I'll just be in keeping with the local tradition.

Anyway, whether or not our St. Charles is worthy of a Monopoly square, it's still pretty glorious. I think I can safely credit this street for inspiring me to move to New Orleans. For the first month that I lived here, I was constantly holding up traffic as I gawked at the mansions that lined the street, each one more impressive than the last. I've gotten used to the houses now; after strolling innumerable times down the cracked sidewalk and admiring each at my leisure, I've grown to see them as old friends. The beauty of St. Charles for me is now in the trees--I never tire of the way that the sunlight dapples through the oaks along the avenue, shading the streetcars as they clang down the tracks. The oaks are like sentinels, an honor guard over the grandest lane in the city, escorting visitors and locals down St. Charles with quiet, unassuming style. They soften the facade of the mansions, making all that money a little less intimidating, because the oaks are so familiar and approachable. No one is intimidated by oaks.

My other favorite part of St. Charles are the beads. Beads, beads everywhere! Almost more beads than leaves, it seems. Not just during Mardi Gras--all year long. I was driving down St. Charles today and was struck by the number of beads still draped in the trees, along the streetcar line, on the power lines, even hanging on the street signs. Remember, Mardi Gras was in February--these beads are at least 6 months old, if not older. Talk about tenacity! Some might view the beads as a visual blight on the beauty of the street, but for me, the beads are the essence of New Orleans. Even on the most statuesque avenue in the city, there are still traces of a party all year long. You can never forget that you're in New Orleans, because the beads are always there to remind you. What other city can give you that?