Four years ago I moved out of Slidell, LA. I had been a resident of Slidell for 24 years, having moved there from Florida. Louisiana natives could notice immediately that my speech was different, since Floridians actually admire and utilize proper grammar, and the Louisianans would ask, “Where you from?” “Florida,” I would respond. “Why you moved here?” they would ask, as if I had been somehow exiled to a penal colony or something. Nonetheless, I made my home in Slidell to have access to greater New Orleans and to conduct my business as a magician, comedian, and dozens of other trades which have allowed me to continue to be a magician and comedian.
The last three years in Slidell were spent in a lovely condo on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain. We had a beautiful view of the lake out the front with a deep water canal in back. Throw in a boat slip and ducks and it was a virtual paradise. That is until Tropical Storm Isadore came to visit. Not even a hurricane, it nearly put water into the condo, which prompted me to convince my wife to leave paradise and move 14 miles inland to Pearl River, LA. Fifteen months later Hurricane Katrina did away with the condo, leaving nothing but memories.
Living in Pearl River is a different kind of existence. To get there from Slidell go north on Hwy 11, looking for a man on the side of the road with a Coke can. If he isn’t drinking out of it, he’s spitting into it…you’re almost there. To say the town is redneck is an understatement. And 
apparently they have a complex about their identity. The sign pictured on the right is actually on I-59 as you approach Pearl River from Picayune, MS. Are they that ashamed of the town? Do they not have the same things that make all towns in the deep South great?
Take the high school, for 
example. The Pearl River Rebels (go figure) have a proud tradition of sports including football, baseball and watermelon seed-spitting. Pictured here is PRH’s beautiful homecoming queen, Bossie McBeef, sponsored by the Future Farmers of America. She is the daughter of proud parents Mr. and Mrs. Angus McBeef.
Pearl River also has its share of shops. For the smart decorator, you can go to the Advance Auto Parts store and buy a V-8 engine, complete with chain for hanging from the oak tree in front of your double-wide. Or stop by the Dollar General and get a new pair of rubber shrimp boots and stick them upside down between the cab and bed of your pick-up truck. But you will still have to go to Slidell to visit a dentist because, well, not that many people in Pearl River still have teeth, Bossie being the exception. Of course, lack of teeth is an asset if you plan to try out for the PRH seed-spitting team next year.
This is not to say I don’t enjoy living in Pearl River, I do. It is on high ground, which is good news in hurricane season. It is only six miles from Slidell, which is great news when I have dental issues. And post-Katrina property values are skyrocketing, which is exceptionally great news should I decide to sell my double-wide with the V-8 in front.
