The summers in New Orleans are notoriously pitiless. It’s hot enough to not only cook your goose, but to steam it too. This summer is turning out to be worse than most. Strangely enough, we’re in the middle of a drought that’s baking us all to oblivion, not only in the weather but in a business sense.

I think the question that most of us small businesses who have managed to re-open post-Katrina is “Will we be able to make it through this summer? What’s going to happen to us if—no, when—another hurricane hits?”

There are businesses in the French Quarter that are hurting a lot worse than they were in summers before. Contrary to outside-of-New Orleans belief, most people who live in the city do not venture into the Vieux Carre on a regular basis. That’s for tourists. And since there are many fewer convention or tourists this summer, the Quarter is pretty dead.

Record stores (Virgin) have closed. Tower Records at this writing has been sold to a company that owns Sam Goody mall stores. Many restaurants have not reopened, either because they were too badly damaged, or they have no staff to work in them.

Many of our friends, family and colleagues have moved on to other cities and states.

A lot of us are still living in a state of shock. Yes, we’re moving on with our daily lives and families, working and living in New Orleans. But overall, almost everyone I know is living with post-traumatic stress syndrome. And denial about the future of the city.

New Orleans will never be the same. About a third of our population will probably never return. Many of the people who gave New Orleans its unique character—and music and culture—will never be able to live here again because they are being priced out of the housing market. There’s been a palpable shift of focus in the state from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, which has increased its population by 150,000, post-Katrina. Baton Rouge is booming; New Orleans is struggling.

I read a book a little over a year ago, called “Isaac’s Storm,” an account of the 1900 Category Four hurricane that devastated Galveston, Texas. Galveston at that time was the largest city in Texas. Its position as a natural seaport made it a major port and trade center. The city was prosperous and thriving, had weathered storms in the past, and was somewhat complacent on the effects that a big storm could have. (Sound familiar?). It’s estimated that between 6,000 and 12,000 people were killed by the great hurricane of 1900 that destroyed Galveston. Over 3,800 homes were destroyed. Prior to the hurricane, Galveston was known as “the New York of the South.” Had the hurricane not hit, Galveston (which is almost nine feet above sea level) probably would have been one of the country’s largest cities.

But after the hurricane, development shifted north to Houston, whose economy was benefiting from the oil boom. After the Houston Ship Channel was dredged in 1909 and 1914, Galveston lost all hope of ever regaining its former status as a major commercial center.

Since I’ve been alive, New Orleans has always been the focus of Louisiana’s economy—much to the resentment of the rest of the state. But will that continue? Will New Orleans become the Galveston and Baton Rouge the Houston of Louisiana?

We are definitely in danger of becoming a boutique enclave of unusual culture—assuming we can survive the floods, hurricanes, political machinations and the ignorance. If you live in New Orleans, you probably love it so much that you’re certainly in denial that we could be considered a backwater.

We’re tearing down half of the city’s low-income housing and at the same time, we’re building a downtown park, government and Jazz center that’s as slick and shiny as anything you’d see in Houston or Seattle. We certainly don’t want to turn big development away, but jeez, people, have you even looked at the architecture and history of the city? In making it difficult for lower-income folks to return to live here, are we dooming ourselves to a future where New Orleans looks, feels, sounds and tastes like any other homogenous big city in the US?

We’re facing huge problems, not just in rebuilding New Orleans, but in keeping its culture and unique flavor intact. How do we do that? Is our music and culture going to be relegated to something that happened in the past? Something dead and “over”?

The paradox of New Orleans has always been that the things that make it so wonderful, interesting, rich and unique, are the same things that have kept it from joining the mainstream progressive cities. So how do we keep and our character and make this a safe, prosperous and realistic place to want to live and raise a family?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. All I know is that OffBeat plans to be a part of the cultural renaissance of New Orleans. Music is important to our culture. We’ll do everything we can to keep it growing and vital.

Jazzman Celebrated

Lionel Ferbos, the oldest active jazz musician in New Orleans, will celebrate his 95th birthday with two special performances at the Snug Harbor Jazz Bistro on Saturday, July 15, 2006, at 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. Mr. Ferbos, who is the last living musician from the famous Depression-era WPA band in New Orleans, will lead his own band that evening, “Lionel Ferbos and the Louisiana Shakers.”

Mr. Ferbos, a trumpet player, is an original member of the New Orleans Ragtime Orchestra and a member of the stage band for “One Mo’ Time.” His work as a musician and a tinsmith was featured in the popular New Orleans Museum of Art exhibit, “Raised to the Trade–Creole Building Arts of New Orleans.”

Admission to the birthday party and presentation of a cake to the living jazz legend is included in the admission price for the special performance. For more information, call 504-949-0696. Reservations are suggested.