We all know that feeling you get when you meet someone great. You’re so excited that you try on multiple outfits before the first date and you’re giddy as a schoolgirl. I too felt this excitement when I met a handsome, fit massage therapist. Score! Who wouldn’t want to date a hot man who gives stellar back rubs?

Our first date was lighthearted and fun, with a bit more than banal conversation; he was funny! However, shortly after that, the not so subtle signs started to creep into conversation.

“Wow, he’s an attractive man,” in reference to our server, was Clue #1.

After dinner, I was invited to his super swanky loft-style bachelor pad for a nightcap. I was still game until he pressed play. It was time for Prince and watermelon martinis. I know I’m being horribly stereotypical, but come on!

Watermelon martinis, Clue #2.

I’m a trooper, so I pushed on when suddenly the walls were shaking and my seat was trembling. Folks, we have a full-on nosedive!

“You know, I was in prison once.”

Erm, now I do. Insert the winding anecdote of his unfortunate, yet brief time in prison. During that time, he discovered a fleeting (yet recurrent) taste for “robust” activities with men.

Clues #3-10.

I quickly bid adieu that night, but he just wouldn’t go away. Following a dozen calls, a few emails and one random invite to a friend’s party at a gay bar, he came to the boutique I managed. As I took him out back to end his patheticism, I was welcomed into his inner psyche. Apparently, this poor man is plagued by an incessant dream featuring his girlfriends past. These ladies pelt him with tiny pickles while he cowers in front of the St. Louis Cathedral.

Oh, the glaring clues!

Honey, you are gay. Sure, I felt bad for him, but not bad enough to clean up that mess. I used to like pickles, too.

“Pickles” by Nicole Album

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Our Dating columnist, Lady T, tells her tales of survival in the world of dating in New Orleans. All of the stories here have been certified true, and names have been left out to protect the innocent, even though these guys deserve to be put on blast.

I can’t think of a better time to release an exclusive mix of dance jams than the summertime. It’s HOT out there, and we need some music to bump as we seek the nearest oasis. That’s why we’re beyond excited to present Vol. 1 of exclusive mixes from New Orleans’ own DJ G! So, stream the FREE 30 minute mix below, download it, share it and enjoy.

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DJ G is a music renaissance man that has no restrictions for party size, style, or sound. Known for his eclectic mixes of ’80s, ’90s, indie, rock, hip-hop, pop and electro, he’s the current resident of Throwback @ Republic, and Whiskey Blue New Orleans.

Follow DJ G  —>  Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

Face it, humans are vain by nature. And now that it’s socially acceptable to take a selfie and blast all of your Twitter, Instagram and Facebook friends with blurry shots in dirty bathroom mirrors, we can relax and revel in our own narcissism without having to fear what our friends think. Oh, yeah; you don’t care what other people think about you, anyway.

The PROPAGANDA team is scouring New Orleans public restrooms, retail establishments and Lord knows what else to bring you a comprehensive guide on which reflective surfaces make for the best selfie shots. Charge up your phone, break out the GPS, say cheese, and don’t forget to hashtag.

Location: University of New Orleans Campus Bookstore

Overall Rating: 3 (Scale of 1-5)

Accessibility: 4

Located right in the University Center, this one is easy to walk up to, snap a pic and go. Also, if you’re a student, don’t forget to tap into the free WiFi for your upload. I mean, mommy and daddy are paying for it with that tuition, but it’s nice to pretend like you’re getting shit for free.

Lighting: 5

Lots of natural light thanks to a generous amount of windows.

Privacy: 3.5

Depending on how busy the bookstore is, you might have the whole place to yourself. Sneak in during the summer or halfway through the semester to ensure you won’t get photobombed by some co-ed looking for a sold out Psychology 1001 textbook.

Mirror Quality: 3.5

Full length mirror, propped against the wall. My guess is this thing travels around the store. Could be a little wider, but a decent shot.

Overall Ambiance: 2

Dated carpet, lack of decoration, and the utilitarian feel of the bookstore makes for an Anywhere, USA photo.

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Do you have a favorite selfie spot? From a dingy dive bar bathroom to your favorite upscale boutique, share your favorite self portraits on the fly with us by using the hashtag #NOLAselfie, or e-mail them to christy@no-prop.com. And don’t forget to rate your mirror of choice!

How I scored them: I scooped these kicks from my friend/producer Cza (@czaofckp) who’s also a big sneaker fan like myself. We made a big trade that day, and these were one of the pairs I got. Me and Cza have been competing with getting kicks since the 10th grade, so it’s only right that I steal from his collection.

When I wear ‘em: I wear these a lot; they’re a part of my 10 shoe rotation I currently have going on. The shoe is a tad bit heavy, but it’s super comfy and goes well when you’re wearing all black.

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Who I am: Lyriqs Da Lyraciss

What I do: I’m an emcee. I make music.
What’s with all the shoes: I collect shoes now because it’s important to me to get the ones I couldn’t when I was a kid.

Where to find me:
UnderdogCentral.net
Facebook.com/underdogcentral
Twitter.com/underdogcentral

In an almost pandemic-like fashion, natural hairstyles have slowly become more and more commonplace among women of color. While it was once seen as taboo in the entertainment world, this infusion of curly locks and effervescent afros has been mirrored in media outlets across the country. The current generation of interest has resulted in more black women with natural hair to grace television screens and magazine advertisements. In my time observing this metamorphosis, I’ve heard testimonials from several different women that have embellished their crowns with these earthy looks. Some cite how the transition has made it less troublesome to maintain tedious hairstyles, which is complemented by the ease with which they can quickly adjust their tresses to fit the environment. Others had become overwhelmed by the expense of visiting hair salons every week and expressed a feeling of deep relief at saving both money and time that went along with pricey appointments. A third group was reeled in by promises of stronger, healthier hair and has managed to achieve that result. While all of these are inspiring reasons to tout natural hair, as a 23-year-old black male, I find my pleasure in less than their motivations behind it. My elation gravitates instead to the fact that it is being done.

I developed an infatuation with natural hair a few years ago when my eyes first opened to the existence of a larger community of women with afros and dreadlocks. I found something so graceful about it and felt an instantaneous connection to any woman with natural hair. At one point, I had even sported a larger than life afro that caused people to compare me to a certain cartoon character. I remember on more than a few occasions, women would come up to me and compliment me on my hair while expressing a desire to grow their own out the way mine was, and I immediately encouraged them to go for it. I look at the vast sea of women who have gained the courage to tout natural hair as a symbol of the bravery to fight for one of the most central components of their lives: self-image. There is too often a force from external sources that sets the standard for what is beautiful, and this demanding voice is often masculine. This is why I view the natural hair movement as a step forward for all women, not just black, as a retaliation against the invisible hand that directs them to what is and isn’t acceptable and attractive. Hollywood is an agent of misinformation that stresses the need for prosthetics and makeup in order for a woman to feel good about herself. As unconnected as it may seem, the transition to natural hair can become a movement for women of all races to reclaim their self-image. It is powerful and beautiful.

New Orleans has always been a cultural mecca, and with the new prevalence of interest in natural hair, we have seen how women of our city have created their own interpretation of the look. Kartis Lewis is one such woman. I met Kartis only a few weeks ago after photographing the International Natural Hair Meetup Day in Baton Rouge hosted by Red Stick Naturals, an organization dedicated to strengthening the natural hair community in the Capital City. Kartis is a New Orleans native that describes her transition as something of a relay race that didn’t have a clear-cut finish line until the baton reached the final runner. She explains that it wasn’t a particularly bad experience, but many family members and friends were originally skeptical about her decision. “They had it in their head that going natural is for people who have problems with their hair. It took them a minute to get used to it,” she explains. While many women mention easy breakage and difficulty in gaining length, Kartis found herself able to attain longer hair before abandoning hair-relaxing products. This contributed to the ease of her being able to undergo her transition. Instead of cutting it all off at once as some women choose to do, she was able to relieve herself of a few inches at a time as she grew out her relaxed hair and replaced it with her newly growing natural hair. Her transition process is one of many that can be implemented.

An unexpected outcome Kartis has experienced since going natural is the sweeping good will the natural hair community has towards its members. “Women can be really competitive,” she notes. “I like the fact that the natural hair community is so open and accepting.“ Whereas some women refrain from complimenting their peers on their looks, members of the natural community do not hesitate to express their admiration for each others’ hair, Kartis says. This humility is another aspect of natural hair that makes it so much more of a welcoming experience.

Kartis is one of the many women living in New Orleans that have embraced a natural hairstyle and become privy to an elevated sense of camaraderie. It is this kinship combined with the distinctive flavor of New Orleans that makes natural hair a unique experience in the city, and it is here that I will document it.

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Patrick Melon is a student, photographer and aspiring filmmaker. Constantly creating, his work can be found at his website, PatrickMelon.tumblr.com.

The word “Creole” is used to describe anything from a tomato to a person, these days. We’ve got Creole seasoning, Creole cottages, and everything in between. While the origin of the word gets murky, it’s actually a simple term that became heavily politicized after the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. In its simplest form, “Creole” was defined as an individual born here, regardless of race, as opposed to have being born in Spain or France. This means there were Creoles of European and African-American descent. However, even then, the definition was contested.

In pre-Civil War times, native birth was considered more important than race. Just like many modern day New Orleanians, the “born and raised” set wanted to distinguish themselves from newcomers. Local color author George Washington Cable (October 12, 1844 – January 31, 1925) caused quite a stir in the late 1800s among the white Creole elites when he portrayed them in a negative light in his popular novels Old Creole Days (1879) and The Grandissimes (1880). Even though he was Creole in the sense that he was native born, his New England family had only lived in the area for a generation, so he wasn’t deemed a true Creole by some of the “Ancient French”, or the Creoles that had lived here for generations. After receiving much backlash for writing two articles encouraging racial equality, he moved to Massachusetts.

A lithograph of Charles Gayarré by Jules Lion.
Doesn’t this guy just look like a dick?

Another notable historic figure, Charles Gayarré (January 9, 1805 – February 11, 1895), sought to redefine the definition of Creole by forming the Creole Association of Louisiana. Limited to only white Creoles “in good standing”, this was an obvious attempt to exclude the native born blacks from the term. Ironically, Gayarré had fathered at least one child of mixed European/African descent.

So the next time someone asks you, “What does Creole mean?”, the answer isn’t really, “A fruit.”

Unless you’re serious about getting a foot in Hollywood’s door or you really need the check, being a movie extra isn’t that great.

Working from home sounds swell, but as a freelance writer, I sometimes find more time on my hands than I would prefer. This usually means work is slow, which usually means my pockets aren’t as full as they could be. A little over a year ago, I noticed that a few acquaintances had been working as extras on the myriad of films and television shows being shot here in New Orleans, especially HBO’s Treme. Like many children, I had fantasized about being a movie star when I grew up, but never pursued it in any manner. As an adult, I figured it would be interesting, at the very least, to be a part of a major film and get paid for it. Hell, maybe I would even learn something.

After a reasonably positive experience as an extra in an episode of Treme (I was a heavy metal fan at an Eyehategod concert), I figured I could manage the longer shoots feature-length films typically require. I did know from reading Facebook updates that one could be quite uncomfortable on set. Thirsty? There’s a giant cooler of water somewhere, but you can’t just get a cup whenever you feel like it. Five hours into shooting and you’re getting hungry? You’re probably shit out of luck (more on that later). Gotta pee?  Those with incontinence issues need not apply. Stuck in a period costume out in the summer heat? Tough titties. While I have the bladder of a camel, I didn’t want to be standing up nor outside for hours on end, so I replied to a casting call for a multi-day shoot of Now You See Me, one which sounded pretty cushy, as far as these things go.

Shortly after submitting my photo and contact info to the casting agent, I received a call confirming my availability. An email providing the details on wardrobe, call-times, etc. soon followed. I would be paid $88 for 10 hours of my time, and if shooting went into overtime, I would receive time and a half for those hours. Now, $88 doesn’t go far these days, but I was guaranteed several days of work, and I really didn’t have much else going on, so, why not make a few bucks, right?

Let’s just take a moment to recall the old adage, “There’s no such thing as easy money.”

The caffeinated liquid.

My call-time was something ridiculous, like, 6:30 a.m. That meant that I had to wake up at a time that is not conducive to me standing, driving or speaking. I drove to the parking lot of a building  that I cannot recall, but I believe it was no longer in use. From there, buses picked up the “background players” and brought us to our holding area in the CBD. Paperwork had to be done, but there was liquid that resembled coffee and assorted snacks for us. That was quite nice of them. And then we waited.

You do a lot of waiting when working as an extra. I made the most of my time by working via my phone and my tablet. Eventually, it was time to walk to the theater we would be shooting the scenes, and, of course, there was more waiting. Thankfully, I had seen what everyone else was doing at the holding area and stuffed my handbag with a bottle of water and a few snacks, which kept me from passing out from dehydration and hunger. Did I mention it was hot? Everyone was sweating, and, unfortunately, some of my fellow faux-thespians did not care to or were unable to shower prior to call-time. Have I mentioned that I am absolutely terrible at disguising disgust or annoyance? It’s becoming quite evident that perhaps I am not cut out for this, isn’t it?

The theater we would be filming in was the State Palace Theater in all of its hot, musty, moldy glory. For those not local to New Orleans, State Palace sat in the waters from the levee failures post-Hurricane Katrina. The film crew assured us that they had spent oodles of money having the mold removed, but my overly sensitive nose told me otherwise. The seats had mysterious substances on the upholstery. Giant fans were brought in to circulate the interior air that smelled mostly of sewage, but only while the camera was not rolling; they produced too much of a din to run during taping.  But, really, that was the worst of it. I sat the entire time, switched seats in groups when told to, sipped on water I brought from home, and played games on my phone in between takes. And it was pretty cool to see Hollywood stars Woody Harrelson cracking jokes, and being instructed to boo Michael Caine. If Woody could deal with the poop smell, so could I.

While extras are usually discouraged from bringing phones on set, we were asked to whip ours out and take pictures with flash or take video for a certain scene. While not exciting, the following footage is a nifty behind-the-scenes video of the “audience” in action.

Fiji water not included.

After six hours or so, we took a break for lunch. It was free. I wanted to be grateful. I even lucked out and snagged some of the vegetarian lasagna originally meant for the crew before it was depleted by those that were truly vegetarian and/or repulsed by the mystery meat put out for us plebs. Eating the latter dish was not an option knowing I had to return to that rank oven of a theater. Just thinking of the consequences makes me shudder today. While adding packet after packet of salt and pepper to my lunch, I thought, “W.W.W.D.: What Would Woody Do?” Well, Woody is vegan, so I ate the damn lasagna and kept quiet. Vegetarian dining would have to suffice, but I’m sure Woody would have given me a righteous high-five for hanging in there.

At the conclusion of lunch, we were herded back to the theater for more scenes to be shot. Working as an extra does provide a bit of insight into movie-making magic. Prior to arriving on set, I hadn’t considered that I just might be surrounded by dummies.

Really creepy, unfinished dummies. And yes, the one on the end is a living person.

I also did not know I would be so close to the actors.

Isla Fisher, Jesse Eisenberg, Woody Harrelson & Dave Franco (hidden)

The same scene, but an official still from the studio.

Photo by Barry Wetcher – © 2013 Summit Entertainment, LLC. All rights reserved.

The first day of filming went on for 12 hours or so, and then we had to crawl back to the holding area, and then wait in line for quite a while to turn in our paperwork and confirm wrap times. I was tired, sweaty in uncomfortable places of my body, and beginning to experience the sinus pains of an infection I was developing from sitting in that theater. While I managed to make the second day of filming, the sinus infection spread and my throat was killing me by the time we wrapped, so I cancelled my remaining days. Sure, I felt guilty since I had committed to several days, but I could not put my health at further risk for $10/hour (after overtime and taxes). From what I had heard, there were a few people that called out the first day or so. (Man, do the seasoned extras like to chatter and gossip about what goes on at sets.)

As someone that is accustomed to working in their underwear, using the restroom as needed, and making a sandwich when I want a damn sandwich, I’m probably not the best candidate for work as a movie extra. I don’t have aspirations to be a famous actress, and, for me, the amount of time one must commit to being on set can be better used at home and work. But if you do want to acquire experience or you just need an extra paycheck, there is plenty of work to be found here in Hollywood South. Just remember to pack a lunch or a bottle of Maalox.

Violence is an infection and New Orleans has a raging case.

New Orleans has a violence problem. We residents are reminded of it nearly every day when we check the local news or check-in with our families, friends, and neighbors. Every now and then, the world is reminded of our city’s violence problem, too. The Mother’s Day shooting put New Orleans back into the international spotlight for all the wrong reasons.

Why am I bringing this up in my public health column? Because in recent years there has been a growing interest in treating violence as a public health issue. It makes sense when you think about it; experiencing violence certainly harms a person’s health, mentally and physically. Therefore, reducing violence would improve the overall health of a population. Homicide is the #1 leading cause of death in black men between the ages of 15 and 34. Reducing violence among this population is likely to have an impact on common public health measures such as mortality rate and life-expectancy.

In 2008, The New York Times published a profile on an epidemiologist named Gary Slutkin. Dr. Slutkin has spent the early part of his career in the developing world, fighting infections like tuberculosis and HIV. (Hello! My dream job!) When he returned to the US, he took a position in Chicago, another city with a high rate of violence. Upon studying the patterns of violence in that city, Slutkin recognized trends that were very familiar to him: geographical clusters of violent incidents, outbreaks of violent activity, and the ability use previous cases of violence to predict new cases. To Slutkin, Chicago’s urban violence was behaving like an infectious disease. Just as cases of an infection beget new cases of the infection, cases of violence beget new cases of violence (often in the form of retaliation).

Using this idea that violence spreads through a community in a manner similar to an infectious disease, Slutkin designed an intervention to stop transmission. He founded the organization Cure Violence, originally known as Cease Fire, to put his theories into practice. Cure Violence utilized former perpetrators of violence (often reformed gang members) to identify and diffuse potentially violent situations. The “interrupters”, as they’re known, draw on their experience and credibility to persuade members of their community not to commit violent retaliation after experiencing violence or otherwise being wronged/disrespected. The use of peers from the local community to promote behavior change is a technique that is often employed in public health. The thinking is that the target audience is more likely to heed advice given by someone they identify with, rather than an outsider.

So, does the infectious disease approach to violence reduction work? A growing body of evidence shows that it does. Independent evaluation of Cure Violence’s activity in Chicago shows that it has had a significant, direct impact on reducing violence in most of its target neighborhoods. The Cure Violence approach isn’t a panacea. Urban violence is a complex issue influenced by an array of factors. However, we can use all the help we can get in trying to reduce violence.

The City of New Orleans agrees. As part of Mayor Landrieu’s NOLA 4 Life homicide reduction plan unveiled last year, the city provided funds for Cease Fire New Orleans, which has been applying the Cure Violence model to the New Orleans community, specifically Central City. Cease Fire New Orleans recently completed its first year of operation, and hopefully we will soon have data on the effectiveness of the program in our own community. It is often difficult for programs with lofty aims, such as ending violence in a community, to show results in just one year, but at this point, I’ll take any glimmer of hope I can get for an end to the culture of violence in New Orleans.

Featured photo: “Non-Violence”, Carl Fredrik Reuterswärd; Photo, Paul Stein

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Daniele Farrisi, our Public Health columnist, works at an HIV clinic, and has a wicked streak of humor running through her to show for it. INFECTIOUS SELECTIONS are the bits of wit and wisdom she’s acquired over the years in the trenches of the clinic, church health fairs, and various state prisons. Here, she shares informative (and sometimes obscure) health information, and her stories from work.

Reason for buying: I went into Sports Plus on Canal Street back in 2010 and saw these babies on the shelf. They came in a seven shoe series of all the Deadly Sins. These are the Gluttony shoes. At the time, Reebok wasn’t as popular as they are now, so they surely turned heads when I wore them. They honestly still do; a very comfy and loud sneaker.

When I wear ‘em: I only pull these out at shows or an event that I need to stand out at, otherwise, they are in the closet catching rest. I love jumping on stage with these on. They always catch everyone’s attention.

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Who I am: Lyriqs Da Lyraciss

What I do: I’m an emcee. I make music.
What’s with all the shoes: I collect shoes now because it’s important to me to get the ones I couldn’t when I was a kid.

Where to find me:
UnderdogCentral.net
Facebook.com/underdogcentral
Twitter.com/underdogcentral

NOLA Eats was founded in 2003 so that friends new and old could gather around a table and share a meal. Nearly 10 years later, I am friends with many of the guests from our first dinner.

This week, share your meal on our social media outlets, whether you’re cooking for one, eating for two or dining with 30. Your pictures will be featured here on NO PROP. If you like what you see, say hello and introduce yourself; let’s share a meal with a friend!

Twitter: Follow @NOLAprop & use the hashtags #ShareAMeal & #NOLAeats

Facebook: Share your photos here on the event page – www.bit.ly/ShareAMealFB

Instagram: Follow @NOLAprop & use the hashtags #ShareAMeal & #NOLAeats