Democratic senator Mary Landrieu of Louisiana lists her parents' New Orleans address as her primary residence for voting purposes. But it's clear she and her husband consider their primary residence to be their multimillion-dollar home on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. These revelations have provided fodder for Landrieu's political opponents (the Louisiana Democrat is up for reelection this year), with one conservative super PAC releasing an ad suggesting the Democrat is more representative of the District of Columbia than Louisiana. Landrieu faces a tough reelection battle this November.
The increased scrutiny of Landrieu's residency raises an obvious question: Why doesn't Landrieu own and live in a home in Louisiana?
After all, as the Washington Post's Philip Rucker reported, Landrieu owns "two separate plots of undeveloped land" in Slidell, near New Orleans. The addresses for the plots are 425 Carr Drive and 504 Carr Drive, two seemingly empty lots on a residential street that runs right along the shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
Here's a recent photograph, obtained by THE WEEKLY STANDARD, of 425 Carr Drive:
And here's one of 504 Carr Drive:
Instead of building a home on either of these plots in Louisiana, Landrieu and her husband purchased a lot in Washington and built their home there. Here's a video of their home, on leafy East Capitol Street:
Democratic senator Mary Landrieu of Louisiana is already in the electoral battle of her life this November. Her national party is far out of step with Louisiana voters on health care, abortion, and energy issues, and the national mood is continuing to shift against the Democrats. And the leader of that party, President Obama, is deeply unpopular in the Bayou State.
The Washington Post reports that Democratic senator Mary Landrieu doesn't own a home in her state of Louisiana, instead listing her residence on federal election forms as either a mansion she owns in Washington, D.C. or her parents' home in New Orleans. Landrieu, who is facing a tough reelection battle in November, is registered to vote at the New Orleans address.
The great thing about this account of the artists and intellectuals in and around New Orleans’s French Quarter during the 1920s is that it upends nearly every assumption commonly made about the American South—even the true ones. The early-20th-century South may have produced the odd isolated genius, but it did not generate anything of cultural distinction. True enough.
The NBA franchise in New Orleans is, long overdue, considering a name change. This is a good thing—even though the proposed nickname Pelicans has been the target of an unfair amount of derision since being floated. To be sure, it’s not slick. It’s not modern. And it is not hip, like the singular form names of European soccer teams, such as United, Dynamo, or Arsenal. But it is quintessentially Louisiana.
New Orleans is, for many people, synonymous with disaster. But disaster has been the last thing on the minds of New Orleanians in the past few months, at least prior to the explosion that sank the Deepwater Horizon rig off the Louisiana coast on April 20. Tourism was up, the local economy was growing at a steady pace, a new mayor had come into office, and most importantly, the city was still enthralled by the Saints’ stunning victory in Super Bowl XLIV. The Crescent City was back from the near death experience of Katrina. This most history-haunted of America’s cities was finally looking forward.