Alan Gutierrez

Jimmy Delery spent the morning on the phone. He’s my ride. I waited. I grew impatient. I set out to vote.

On a hot summer day, I walked accross the Treme to Mid-City where I am registered. In my time in Ann Arbor, I did not surrender my Louisiana driver’s license. Not even when it expired.

I did not want make my return to Michigan offical. I’m going to live in New Orleans or die trying.

There will always be a cold, dark place in heart that rusts for Detroit, however.

I’d not had coffee in two days. I was quiting. I’m somewhat dazed. No cravings, except for sleep. A mild headache. Treme looks rough from Katrina.

I voted for Nick Varrecchio among others.

Lolly-gaged in Mid-City at Liuzza’s by the Track, lunching with a Floridian I once knew, until I broke down and taxied back to the Quarter. Got to my place. Flopped. As I drift off into a cafine-free afternoon coma, my the phone rings. Jimmy is on the loose. I’m ready I say, but we need to stop for coffee.

We cruise Uptown to Napoleon. The Varrecchio supporters are at the corner of St Charles. Varrecchio himself is not there. I grab a sign. Face traffic. Smile. Wave.

Met Desiree. Met Mark and Woody, again. Time passes. Kimberly Williamson Butler arrives.

She’s in a caravan that rolls down from the River Bend. Desiree and I break off to get Kimberly T-Shirts. We decide to put them on. Not that we are clad in Kimberly 53 tees, we decide that it would be rude to remove them until her caravan is out of view.

The caravan parks.

Having set the precident, everyone wants to wear a Kimberly tee. Cameras are out. Jimmy, Desiree, and myself pose with citizen Butler. Kimberly collects her entourage to leave.

I overhear Desiree as she says to Kimberly In parting, you’re just misunderstood. Kimberly says, I know, but I’m strong.

Off with Kimberly. Off with the tees.

We break for Lunch at Frankie and Johny’s. Mark, Woody, Desiree, Nick and I. We talk about the debates. We talk about the run off.

Half a fried shrimp po’ boy later, we’re back on the corner. Waving. The Varrecchio contingent is the last on standing. We waved until the polls closed.

We got back to the campaign headquarters in a round about way. Results looked good until the very end, when the absentee ballots were in. Then Nick drops to second.

That was to be expected. Not much consideration is put into a 11 candidate primary for a lesser office when the voter knows there will be a run off. There was a lot of muddle in the press with all the different voices.

The real campaign is the run off. A real choice between two very different candidates.