Journal, Diary, & Blogging / A Storms a Comin' (Analysis)
“A storm’s ‘a comin’. A storm’s a comin’, bay-beh!” Dirk bops through the corner of my empty bar on his way out to the street for a smoke break. A bit of an old maid, he sounds like the Creole ladies who work at Mother’s diner over on Poydras Street. The slang and cadence of Nwaaarhlins-speak is infectious and pervasive throughout all the social strata here. “Where y’at?” “I’m ‘a holla atcha.” “Yeah you right.” Just those three can be heard hundreds of times a night even among the bluebloods. Whereas Australia is a country with its own English slang (see link: post #4), New Orleans is a city with its own unique lingo.
Dirk has been working inside the hotel all morning, and this is his first look at the storm brewing above the city. Under a darkening midday sky, the palm trees across the street are curtsying and doing a hand jive in the skittering flurry. Occasionally they pause and rest while a light sheet of rain blankets Bourbon Street. Once the spray stops, the trees re-commence their rain dance.
The storm’s name is Edouard—the first tropical storm of the season to head in our general direction. Not Edward, which sounds benign enough, or even the swarthier Eduardo. “Ay-twar”. Check out the pronunciation: (click on: audio link). It’s a French name, like the painter Manet. In New Orleans we are quite familiar with French things. We may not pronounce them right, but we are definitely not threatened by them.
As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can say “Edouard” properly without pinching my thumb against the tips of my fingers and, with gusto, releasing imaginary fairy dust into the air as the vowels are emancipated from my lips.
I am doing the crossword and waiting for Dirk to pass back through so I can razz him for getting edgy over such an effete weather disturbance. Instead, Chef Scary shambles into the room and sits two seats down from me on the sipping side of the bar. I nod and try to inhale the last few moments of relative peace. “A Rainy Night in Georgia” is floating down from the speakers on the wall. The music on cable radio is programmed days in advance by computers, but it always seems like songs about rain come on when it is raining. “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on my Head.” “Riders on the Storm.” You name it.
I don’t know if those corporate computers factor the weather report into their programming or if it’s just one of those quinky-dinks of the Truman Show that is my life. It’s like the fact that at least two times out of three, when I look at a watch or a clock, the digits will all be the same. For example, 5:55 p.m. 1:11 a.m. Hmmm. Let’s see. Sure enough. It’s 2:22. Gotta love it.
Suddenly, my reverie is broken. “HOW THE -—-- DOES HE KNOW IT’S RAINING?!!!” Scary caterwauls.
read more at kangaroorodeo.blogspot.com/
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It makes me want to read more of your work,I feel like I was there waiting for the storm:O)
Very good!
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The snippets of dialogue are great! I think you should add more because it really gives this piece wonderful color. You hit the dialect on the head -- I felt like I was sitting in the bar with you listening to Dirk. Really liked “bay-beh.” Maybe you can capitalize BAY to really underscore his singsong delivery. I had a bit of trouble with the “bluebloods” reference. I guess I found it hard to picture the New Orleans uppercrust and filthy rich families uttering the phrase “I’m a holla atcha.” Bluebloods tend to be too uptight and stoic to use a phrase so loose and colorful. But… you live there so who would know better than you? Just a nit here -- put the period inside the quotation marks with “Ay-twar.” Also liked the visual of you pinching your thumb and fingertips—I could see the flourish. Thanks for the read.
fast, furious pace. easily read, funny.
“Under a darkening midday sky, the palm trees across the street are curtsying and doing a hand jive in the skittering flurry.”—lines like this stand out to me. fine description, gives me a very tangible sense of the surroundings. well done.
Overall, it’s an interesting blend of free-flowing narrative interspersed with internal monologue. It works. You move in and out of it with skill.
My only criticism would be to boot the references to links. i’m sure they’re helpful, but i kept tripping over them as i read and it slowed down the pace. The characters are intriguing and…yeah. if you want to pick my dim brain any further, feel free to mosey to the comment box below.
thanks. m
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