JR Ball: Getting the cool kids to eat at our table

Getting the cool kids to eat at our table

JR BALL

FOR THE BETTER part of 20-plus years the siren song of Baton Rouge has been our desire for young, educated professionals to make this place their live-work-play destination of choice.

The most influential among us—mostly old, white guys—have traveled from sea (Portland) to shining sea (Richmond) in search of the secret sauce that lures the cool kids to our lunch table.

They got weird in Austin, and later bewildered in Nashville when former Mayor Kip Holden and Stephen Moret, then head of BRAC, hopped on stage to karaoke their way through “Ebony and Ivory.”

Our quest to land the star quarterbacks and head cheerleaders of the knowledge-based world has taken us to such places as RaleighDurham, Pittsburgh, Louisville, Cincinnati, Tampa/Orlando and Phoenix/Tucson.

We’ve recited the Memphis Manifesto. Declared ourselves the “next great American city.” Gone chumming with parties and TEDx talks. We’ve done all that—and more—and yet Baton Rouge and the Capital Region remains “creative class” deficient.

These tatted and pierced wunderkinds who create wealth by breaking paradigms—or creating TikTok videos—remain our great white whale. They and their VC cohort are swimming in the blue ocean while we’re trolling blissfully clueless in the red.

Adding insult to our “Jiggle Jiggle” memes, the best and brightest of our most desired generation have this nasty habit of getting the hell out of Red Stick once TOPS is done funding their college education. Which explains why TOPS is really an acronym for the Texas Opportunity Program for Students. Let’s face it, nothing seems to be working. So why not spill the tea and see if that attracts any CVs?

Young, Educated Professionals Wanted

Intrigued by the concept of being a big fish in a small pond? Interested in taking your own Rebecca Bunch (Crazy ExGirlfriend) adventure by ditching that high-paying, big-city job and searching for true happiness— and love—in a midsized town? Entering your “what the hell” era?

The goal: Create a super Gucci Baton Rouge by convincing educated and creative dope types to move here in semi-large numbers.

Requirements: Must be between the ages of 25 and 35 with at least one professional degree— preferably in a STEM field—and a desire to either solve a significant problem, create a must-have product or simply be willing to live here. Other acceptable forms of experience: artists who create something besides swamp scenes or blue dogs; makers of movies or TV shows (like Yellowstone) that people actually watch; or musicians, any genre is fine but preferably singers not requiring auto-tune but leading a crazy enough life to attract national attention (think Britney Spears but, again, without the auto-tune). Must be willing to think outside the box and be an early-adopter type. Bonus points for being a frequent social media content creator with enough followers so that your posts on the fabulousness of Baton Rouge go viral. Must be willing to replace the letter “o” (or any combination of letters that sound like “oh,” such as “ough”) with “eaux.”

The details: Ideal candidates will be self-driven, not easily prone to frustration and willing to take a long-term view. Working in Baton Rouge isn’t a requirement, but you gotta live here. You’ll be constantly told the people are incredibly friendly, but don’t expect to be embraced or welcomed because 1) you are not from here and/or 2) your job title isn’t worthy of respect from the power elite. Your salary will be considerably lower than your big-city peers but don’t fret because the cost of living here is much lower—if you don’t factor in an assortment of mandatory—and ever-escalating—fees or have school-age children. Those clouds billowing from petrochemical plants aren’t hazardous, that’s just “water vapor” (trust us). There’s a strong community of entrepreneurs but the supporting ecosystem is just ripe for improvement. You’ve been told that working in a city like Houston is crucial for rapid advancement and a C-suite office at a major corporation, but who says joy can’t be found here as a middle manager or by running a midsized company? Or, if you’re so brilliant, start a company here, build it into a huge success and then open a corporate headquarters in Dallas or Atlanta to hire those slacker C-suite folks unwilling to do it the hard way.

The benefits: There’s fun to be had here, but we like to keep all the interesting stuff a secret. Just 90 minutes from New Orleans, and a mere four hours from some of the best beaches in the country. Local entities might not do business with you, but clients outside of the state will love your talent, services and low prices. There’s a lot of health care facilities in the region, which is nice since there’s a lot of unhealthy people. If a fan of fixer-uppers with huge ROI upside, then this is the place for you.

To apply: No need. Just show up.

HAMMOND, LA