Po'boy

Rick Bragg: Can you remember the happiest you've ever been?
I am not talking about the birth of a child, or finding religion, or anything to do with a lottery ticket or go-go boots. I guess that would be Big Happy. I am talking about being a little happy, being glad in your own skin, for one modest moment in time.

I can remember.

It was on Annunciation Street. It was almost a decade ago, not long after I returned to my little shotgun double in Uptown New Orleans from a life sentence in an ice-bound gulag—really just two weeks covering the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. I was homesick, and hungry. 
Dodging potholes so old and deep that the devil must use them as a shortcut home, I bounced…