Popular Culture Review Vol. 5, No. 1, February 1994 | Page 119

Popular Culture as Religion 115 could be sociologically analyzed as tribe or as sect. The old white elite society of the Boston Club, the elite Creole society of their cousins the "high-yellow" brahmins, and the neighborhood clubs of Blacks dressing Indian all quite thoroughly enable, define, and limit their members' particular lives.^^ But all of these, like groups of actual voodoo followers, as well as the nuiny Mardi Gras "krewes" and less prestigious though more open local fellowships, are individual parts of the broader kaleidoscope that is New Orleans as an intense living whole.'^ If even a no-class white kid from Metairie living for decades up north finds it a full-blooded and restorative tribal culture whenever he returns, then no wonder s o shockingly few natives ever leave for more than their college or service years. And no wonder those who do expatriate say that if we live long enough, we all go back home. From Mardi Gras balls to king-cake garage gatherings, this raucously polytheistic culture jjarties. "Laissez les bon temps roulez" is motto because its spirit lives, transforming even N.F.L. contests in the Superdome into something unique. Any day of a weekend that isn't something's "festival" this year will be by next year. Weekend and workdays alike, the native blues and jazz, the r & b and now zydeco from the surrounding swamps are pervasive. Inhaled with the air, they rhythmically provide background, listening and dancing, mythic explanations of life, and ritual sharing of emotions. In this place the live music and the food, those most ephemeral of goods, are the most prized "material expressions." Beyond dispute, food holds pride of place and function, is this society's holiest sacrament. Even sexual conununion comes after or between the times for good food-its preparation, enjoyment, and discussion. The "holy places" are those where the food and music are served and enjoyed, from Galatoire's and Dooky Chase to Mother's and your neightorhood tavern, from Maison Bourbon and Preservation Hall to Tipitina's and the Maple Leaf, and always back again to beignets and coffee by the river's edge. Louis and Sidney Bechet are long gone. Professor Longhair and James Booker more recently departed, but Wynton and Dr. Michael White, Allen Toussaint and "Dr. John" all carry on the "high priestly" function of the master musicians, as do many, many others. Ellis Marsalis's whole jazz clan, like the Neville brothers' funky family, still live and practice, play and teach in their original