In the six years of Politics with a Punch, the night I remember most vividly was not one of my appearances on the “Politically Incorrect” panel, but when Harry Anderson showed up carrying the coffin-like box under a shroud.
As he and two of his employees maneuvered the oblong edifice through the crowd, the former Night Court and Dave's World sitcom star was careful that no one should see its contents below the burlap blanket. It was to be a special gift for Mayor Ray Nagin that night.
All night I watched my former radio partner and friend Jeff Crouere glance from the center of the stage towards the coffin-like box.Out of the audience, confused, the producer of Punch, Bayoubuzz.com managing editor Steve Sabludowsky looked worriedly at the sarcophagus, seemingly wondering if Bela Lugosi was going to emerge from under the shroud.And, Anderson's fellow panelists Chris Rose, John "Spud" McConnell, Audra Shay, Reese Johanson, and especially, Mayor Ray Nagin kept asking the former TV star what it was.
As that month’s show closed after a series of hysterical insights on the Saints, Governor Blanco, the Oscars, and other cultural-political icons, Crouere said to the crowd that Anderson had a special presentation to make to the mayor.
"In the French Quarter," the former sitcom star began, "we have an organization called Le Vieux Carre Commission.It means THE Vieux Carre’ Commission. Anyway, they make the buildings look authentic. They said I had to find a certain type of doorknob. It took me three months, but that's okay, I came back to New Orleans because it is the least-changed place in America. I was a street performer here in 1975, and now I own two buildings - a point I tried to make to Jackie Clarkson when she called all street performers gutter punks."
As Anderson spoke, he walked across the stage and stood beside the upright, coffin-like box. He grasped the shroud with his hand, and continued, "Then, a couple weeks before Mardi Gras, they put this right in front of the door that needed the new doorknob."
With a flourish, he pulled off the blanket and revealed one of the tall green parking payment towers that at the time was replacing meters around New Orleans. Anderson went on to explain how this modernist edifice ended up in front of his 200-year-old building by one agency of city government in the same week that another required a specialized doorknob to maintain historical authenticity.
Anderson joked that he was not claiming any responsibility, but "parking is real good on Chartres right now." Then, he admitted to the mayor and the audience that one of his friends had created the replica parking tower to prove a point. It was idiotic to place the high-tech plastic in the middle of a historic neighborhood.
"How would you handle parking?" Nagin replied annoyed.
"We'll, we had these meters. They looked like they were from the 1940's."
Anderson went on to explain that he was not against the modern parking towers with their credit card inserts and ATM appearance - just not where they would clash with the surroundings.
“Anyway,” the comic asked Nagin, “Do you know how to operate it?”
Nagin said “of course”, and when challenged to use his credit card, went up to it, and realized that he had no more idea than his constituents how the high tech junk operated.
By the end of the exchange, Nagin truly understood, perhaps for the first time, why the complex machines confused the public, and the Mayor admitted to the schizophrenic relationship with historic preservation and neighborhood conservation that the city often had.
It was a moment of political truth usually unseen from politicians.Humor had made a relevant political issue real to a Chief Executive so enamored with his pet project that he could not see the problems with it.
It was just one of many moments over the last six years where Crouere’s and Sabludowsky’s off the record evening to laugh at and with local politicians became something more.Politics with a Punch has often revealed itself to be something far more classic in the lexicon of gatherings—a political salon.
It is a place where people of different ideological or political backgrounds come together and through wit, humor, and lighthearted political discussion, manage to find common ground in ways often absent in the modern world.
Salons were once the mainstay of the political world, in France, England, across the United States, and particularly here in New Orleans.Well connected matrons would draw a myriad of people from varying points of view to mix and discuss ideas and political movements.A witty comment was the ideal, and entertainment for all through humorous discussion was a critical necessity.Otherwise, all would go home.
Because the evenings were relaxed and somewhat lighthearted in nature, political enemies could gather under one roof and maintain a personal relationship often absent in the coarseness of political strife.They played a critical role in the development of this Republic and this state.
As the 20th Century came and went, however, Salons fell out of style.Perhaps, it was unrelated, but political divisions hardened all the more into personal ones, and humor, once a critical weapon in the politician’s arsenal, all but disappeared.
That is the beauty of Politics with a Punch, now held at the Cricket Club on St. Charles Ave.People of radically different political and social backgrounds can gather and discuss.Often, as fascinating as the exchanges on stage are the discussions in the crowd as prominent Democrats and Republicans mix with theatrical and business leaders, and occasionally Madams and former Presidential paramours.
The sixth anniversary of Politics with a Punch, hails this Thursday night.Eric Paulsen promises to the crowd ringside coverage of the Mayor’s meltdown; Arnie Fielkow will tell us what is really going on in New Orleans; Margarita Bergen will give us her unvarnished views on post-Katrina in the Big Easy; Ronnie Virgets will entertain us with his humorous analysis of life in New Orleans; Jim Tucker will tell us about the good, the bad and the ugly in the Louisiana Legislature; and Wild Bill Dykes will enlighten us with his zany, one of a kind observations.
And Crouere and Sabludowsky will look out at the crowded room six years later and know that their evening that began as a way to have a little fun has become something more, a must gathering of the local political world every month.They will know that more real progress takes place amidst the humor of New Orleans’ last political salon than weeks of discussions in Baton Rouge can accomplish.
