Looking at the website for the inaugural New Orleans Oyster Festival, there is no mention of oil, BP, boom, top kills or top hats. Nothing.
Its menu reads like a welcome mat to heaven. In the self-proclaimed "Oyster Capital of America," what else would you expect there are raw oysters from Acme, oysters Louise from Court of Two Sisters, barbecue oyster po-boys from Redfish Grill, fried oysters from Lüke. P&J officiates a shucking competition. Acme even hosts an oyster-eating contest. In fact, there are more than one.
What world is this in? Surely, as the nation bows its head at the plight of its coastal neighbors the fishermen, shrimpers and oystermen, we, and they, and their bounty, are endangered species, doomed by an oil warpath.
This is not a party going down with a sinking ship, or a last hurrah. This is a celebration of this year's crop and though the party may have to supplement with some Florida stuff, it's a celebration no less. This is a moment for the surviving and the struggling to show what they do best, despite the odds. Screw national panic, and screw those refusing to support Louisiana seafood.