The Whalehead Pledge

A mural on Magazine Street.  The top was painted by convicts under the supervision of the Sheriff.

I'm recently moved to New Orleans, just this past June, and I really have no knowledge of this wonderful city I now call home.  

This blog used to be called just "Whalehead King," my nom-de-guerre, when I lived in New London, Conn., a place I called home for twelve years.  I'm from Connecticut originally, a state with roughly the same population as Louisiana packed into an area that has less square footage than Jefferson Parish.

I lived in Boston, Mass. for three years prior to moving to New Orleans.  During that time, this blog was called "The Dot Matrix!" because I lived in Dorchester, Boston's biggest neighborhood which is commonly referred to as "Dot."  I was a'swim in the matrix of events and trends and local politics around a few square blocks of my home where I spent much of my time.

This blog is now called "Excelsior! New Orleans!"  Moving here, I feel like I am trading up from Boston.  Bean Town and I haven't lost any love on each other.  It is a beautiful city and a pleasure to stroll around in warm months.  I was never a good fit there, however, for reasons described in this blog's archives for those who choose to trawl through them.

I don't have a trademark unless you count my rambling prose and the image of Yippee the Whale who appears in the upper right of this blog: A Five-Star Whale Production.  Whalehead King, however, does have a pledge.

This blog will contain only clean and wholesome, if idiosyncratic, information.  Even when it deals with adult or distasteful subjects, you will never read anything that would make your great-grandmother blush.  I neither regulate nor eliminate whatever subject happens to catch my fancy on any given day but I do ensure that it is fit for public consumption.  The goriest and hoariest details are included by implication and no parent need worry that Junior will be learning how harsh the real world is by visiting these pages.  I call it as I see it and live it, and I generally have a sunny, if jaundiced, disposition.

My New Orleans experience may not be yours.  I am a Nutmeg Yankee (which means a born and bred Connecticut native) and my presuppositions are probably very different from those of someone from elsewhere in America or the world, even someone from Rhode Island, which is Connecticut's tinier neighbor.

In all, I am enjoying being a citizen of this wonderful city or New Orleans.  I cannot and will not choose to live anywhere else.  I made the right choice when I saddled my motorcycle and took the back roads from Boston to New Orleans to make a good life worth living.  If my observations seem askew, they are.  I am a stranger in a strange city that speaks a different dialect and has customs that leave me blinkered about what just happened.  I am enchanted, enthralled, and feeling effervescent every morning I leave my apartment.

The Whalehead Pledge:  To be true to one's roots while adapting to one's surroundings is the best a person can do.  Connecticut's official state motto is: "Qui Transtulit Sustinet."  You know what that means?  "He (or she) Who Transplants, Sustains."  It pairs up nicely with Louisiana's motto: "Union, Justice, Confidence."  I weld my identity to New Orleans'.  I treat everything I contact with an open mind and wait long, scratching my head in puzzlement sometimes, before I pass fair judgement.  I seek to understand rather than dismiss.  I am confident that moving here was the best decision I have made in the four-plus decades I have been alive and I am sure tomorrow will be better than yesterday.  I believe in New Orleans' promise.

'Nuff said for one day.  It may be enough said on this subject for the rest of this blog unless I think of a better way to say it.  Words are tricky things, describing as much as they leave out.

Cheers! and with a handshake,
WK
Thank you for making me feel like I am home.