Little did I know when I started this blog that the title would expand, requiring me to ask this question of so many new situations in my life....

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

The Lights, The Presents, The Egg Nog, The Food..

THE FAMILY, THE FRIENDS....

They've all been hung, opened, drunk (is that the correct tense??), eaten, kissed & hugged.

A good time was had by all. Even my decision to give all three 'kids' an MP3 player -- don't know why they didn't have one since they have every other electronic gadget known to man. Anywho....call it lack of imagination if you please, but since J so loves the MP3 I gave him last year I thought -- what the hey! I ordered three identical MP3's and figured we'd (I'd) handle it if any of them already had one that I didn't know about. Well, they seemed pleased and I noticed them spending time TOGETHER downloading songs. That's pretty much a first!

So, all in all, we had a good Christmas. We kept smiling when exchanging 'Merry Christmases' with our neighbors who still have family members from New Orleans living with them off and on while traveling back and forth to NOLA to clean up their home. They have been working so hard and now they are wondering if they should continue. So many homes in their neighborhood are still sitting there rotting. So few people seem to be coming back. Their precious little 4 yo boy is safe and loved with family members, yet he wants a home. He wants his home. How blessed those of us who weren't really harmed by the storm are.

And, we kept smiling when exchanging 'Merry Christmases' with our neighbor whose husband is in Afghanistan as she was loading up her own precious little boy to go spend Christmas with family. That little 9 yo had his own big wish for Christmas -- that his dad would be home..and safe.

It's so sad that children are wishing for homes and the safety of their parents. My hopes and prayers are that by next Christmas these children's wish lists will only contain toys.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Christmas Memories......

One call led to another and there ended up being nine of us for dinner -- nine friends of various ages, nine friends from all over the country..and world, nine friends who had lost touch with each other, nine friends who had met while teaching, nine friends..none of whom was still teaching (well....there's THAT one with her high-falutin' university teaching position ;). Only three of us are still living in Baton Rouge presently, but the others had somehow made their way back to this place that had helped form them in their college and early professional years. Made their way back because they had to. They had to come back to look, feel, remember, and cry.

We did all that, and then we got on with business..important business..and we took care of business admirably. We showed this crazy place that we had learned our lessons well by eating grandly, and drinking happily. The restaurant manager treated us to dessert(s). We put them all in the middle of the table and had at it. Glorious!

We ended the evening sitting around a cozy fireplace sipping glasses of plum wine we bought from the little Vietnamese store where the odor of fish could literally knock you off your feet. And coffee. Pots of coffee. Strong, black Community Coffee. Louisiana coffee -- with a sprinkle of cinnamon. And conversation, conversation as good and strong as the coffee.

That where the Christmas memories come in. I think it went something like this, "Quick! What's the first memory that comes to mind about Christmas?" Maybe it was all the booze the joy of the season or of being together, but....I think many of the memories surprised even those of us who were having them....

Here's mine. It involves toilet tissue.

My husband, J, was woking a job 'somewhere in the boonies'....I think it was Edna, Kansas. Anywho....he was working nights, we (J,son #3 and I)were living in the 5th wheel. It was freezing. We couldn't leave for home (where our other kids were waiting) until J got off work around midnight.

I had somehow (once again) managed to Christmas shop by internet, phone, and in teeny-tiny towns I had never heard of before I found myself living in them. So, I pack up, J picks us up, and we set out for home. It's dark, it's the wee hours, it's freezing, we have a l-o-n-g way to go. After a while we're starving. We're still in the boonies, but....after a while we see the lights of a fast food joint. Oh, happy day!

We pull in thinking we'll grab some food, pee, and get back on the road. But, wait. What's that? It's a Greyhound bus full of people who are (I guess) trying to make their way home for the holidays pulling in RIGHT NEXT TO US! WTF! How long will this take now?

J gets in line to order, son #3 refuses to get out of the truck, and I...I head to the restroom, where my Christmas miracle takes place.

I'm in the restroom, in line behind upteen women from the bus. Why the fuck can't a country that can send a man to the moon come up with a better design for women's restrooms?!? So I'm in line, tired, hungry, needing to pee in the worst way. I probably should mention here that most of the ladies I'm in line with are not your run of the mill society types....

So, I'm waiting and waiting, and waiting, and waiting and thinking.... there's not going to be any GD toilet tissue left, I just know it. Jeeze! Did I say that out loud? I must have because this not-to-friendly looking woman behind me gives me a look I don't understand. She reaches into her pocket. Oh, my, God! I am going to be tomorrow's headline! But....she pulls out some neatly folded toilet tissue, and hands it to me, wordlessly.

Now, normally, an action such as her's would result in me thanking her profusely -- maybe even asking her where she was from..where she was going.... But, she must have seen that very intent in my eyes, because, as I opened my mouth to begin thanking her, I caught a look in her eyes that said, "Don't go there." So..I didn't. I just said 'thanks' and let it go. She seemed relieved. I wonder what she would think if she knew I was writing about her now? Most likely she'd be giving me that 'don't go there' look.

So, there it is. My Christmas memory -- toilet tissue and all.

....I must admit it sounded better that night, in front of the fire. I think there were even some tears shed as I told it.

Must have been the wine, 'cause it just doesn't sound the same now....

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Breathe......

As the state holds its collective breath, our governor is on Capitol Hill today to testify before a House Select Committee hearing on Hurricane Katrina. We hope she doesn't cry. We hope her chin doesn't start that infamous quivering. We hope people will understand that we need help to rebuild. We hope people in decision-making positions will begin to trust us. We hope our levees will be rebuilt (stronger) so people/businesses will come back and be safe. We hope, for hope, for so many people. We hope that the five suicides that occurred over Thanksgiving won't become more over Christmas and during the dark, dreary, chilly winter to come. We hope.

So, since everybody and their brother seems to have advice for our dear guv, here's mine.... Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!

Monday, December 12, 2005

Entitlement......

This video may help explain why some of south Louisiana's citizens feel entitled to a hand-out from the richest nation in the world, and why people say that as bad as things look on tv, you can't imagine how bad things actually are until you see for yourself.

Once on the website, click on Katrina Video

I hear that not much has changed from what you see.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Thank You Notes......

This 'thank you' ran in our local paper Thanksgiving day. It was written by a displaced New Orleans Times-Picayune reporter who spent some time in our fair city.

It was sweet -- I think. It was complimentary -- for the most part. It was a nice gesture -- at least I'm pretty sure it was intended as such.... ;)

You might need to be a local to appreciate/understand it, but I think the general intent will come through. ....All joking aside, it was appreciated.


Thanks again to Baton Rouge
Red Stick love
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Dave Walker

Thank you, Baton Rouge.

In our time of meteorological crisis, you took us in and made us feel if not wholly at home, then reasonably comfortable in a home-away-from-home -- right down the very congested road from home-home, such as it is.


Some of us now know every single tree between here and there. Too well.

We know it wasn't easy for you.

We know we overloaded your schools overnight.

We know we gave some of you future tax headaches by panic-buying your suddenly overpriced homes.

We know we pushed the line at Chili's out the door and into the parking lot. (And is that Mike Brown moving to the front of the line? Hey, no cuts, FEMA Boy!)

Sorry about Tom Benson's post-game deportment. Won't happen again.

. . . . . . .

Thank you, Baton Rouge, for posting street signs way ahead of all of your major intersections. Given the way your streets change names every few blocks, the pre-emptive signage is a very gracious gesture.

Thanks for not laughing at us when we called to ask if you had any (motel, apartment, trailer park, campground, youth hostel, retirement home) vacancies. At least not every time.

Thanks for the overwhelming generosity you demonstrated by making room for our kids in your day-care centers and schools. Also your jails.

Thanks for Louisiana Public Broadcasting, which proved a safe harbor for WWL-Channel 4's news team, and still provides comfort and aid to WWOZ FM-90.7 and programming for both of our PBS affiliates.

Thank you for quickly re- stocking rubber gloves and bleach when we bought them out.

Thanks for having the Super Wal-Mart manager call us to see if we were OK when we missed a day.

Thanks for letting us poach your wi-fi, especially early on, when those satellite photos of floodwater depths first started popping up on the Web.

Thanks for so efficiently refilling all of those Xanax prescriptions.

Thanks for having restaurants with parking lots.

. . . . . . .

Thanks for letting us discover the differences between our cities, the things that make them so different, yet so similar; the things that make us siblings joined by a river, an interstate and a deep appreciation of fried food.

We noticed, for example, that your city has Jimmy Swaggart. Our city is where Jimmy Swaggart comes to party.

Your city has the Louisiana Legislature. Never mind about our city's political bodies.

Aside from sports bars, commerce in your city pretty much takes a break during Louisiana State University football games. Our city takes a break from everything for three weeks every Mardi Gras, two weeks every Jazzfest and pretty much every Friday afternoon.

Your city embraces chain restaurants. Our city embraces slow food.

Your city has weird Sunday drinking laws, which we never quite figured out. Thanks to the Saints, brunch and because it is a day that ends in "y," Sunday is one of our city's favorite drinking days.

Many of your businesses close on Sunday. Many of our businesses are closed forever.

Huey P. Long's grave is a tourist attraction in your city. People cross the Huey P. Long Bridge to come to our city to visit the graves of Louis Prima, Ernie K-Doe and Marie Laveau.

The hippest sector of your town is located beneath an I-10 overpass. The people who populated the hippest sectors of our town are now populating Houston and Atlanta.

Thanks for not being Houston and Atlanta.

. . . . . . .

Thanks for the Cathouse, Havana House of Cigars, Albasha, Rama and Superior Grill.

Thanks for your many glorious and bounteous Chinese buffets.

Thanks for Poor Boy Lloyd's fried catfish on Friday night.

Thanks for the Hallelujah Crab at Juban's, for the day the FEMA check arrived.

Thanks for Raising Cane's.

Thanks for not having too many too-hip joints, which make us feel fat and old.

. . . . . . .

And left-turn signals! Thanks for left-turn signals!

. . . . . . .

Many of us found your city's obsession with college sports kind of quaint, but at least your sports obsessions are occasionally requited by success, so thanks for making your colorful Tigerwear so prominently available in every possible retail setting.

. . . . . . .

Thanks for looking so sympathetic when we wore our Saints stuff.

Thanks for helping us avoid temptation by renovating your most popular golf course while we were in town.

Thanks for Smiley Anders.

Thanks for giving some of our most important cultural institutions -- Magazine Street boutiques, the Saints, Galatoire's -- emergency second homes.

Thanks for letting us wander around in a daze. Sorry if we sometimes did that behind the wheel of a car.

Thanks for letting us grieve, frequently in public, for our former lives.

Thanks for opening your convention center to our emergency evacuees, even if their presence freaked you out at first.

Thanks for letting us ask, every day, "What day is it?"

Thanks for not getting too upset when we swamped your cell phone airwaves. We would've called to thank you sooner, but we couldn't get a signal.

. . . . . . .

When our shore teemed, you opened your golden door to our tempest-tossed. Thanks for taking our tired, our poor, our news reporters, editors, producers and anchors.

. . . . . . .

"The only excursion in my life outside of New Orleans took me through the vortex to the whirlpool of despair: Baton Rouge," says New Orleanian Ignatius J. Reilly, in "A Confederacy of Dunces."

The journey -- there by bus, back by cab -- left him "broken physically, mentally, and spiritually."

He continued, "New Orleans is, on the other hand, a comfortable metropolis which has a certain apathy and stagnation which I find inoffensive."

Though we can totally relate to what he says about the drive, few of us share Reilly's enmity for your city.

Certainly none of us who survived the past three months only by your grace and hospitality and kindness share his view.

And your left-turn signals.

Thanks, Baton Rouge. It would be great if everyone in your city would join us the next time Mardi Gras comes around.

You may have to drive home to find a place to stay, but the invitation stands.

. . . . . . .

Staff writer Dave Walker can be reached at dwalker@timespicayune.com or at (504) 826-3429.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Joyeux Noël de la côte de Golfe !

Merry Christmas


More Merriment


The last I heard the display is back in the mall.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Failed again in my efforts to find the beaches of my childhood......

aka -- funky beaches. But the beaches we did discover over Thanksgiving week --the beaches of south walton -- are absolutely lovely. ....Can any beach not be lovely??

We're back. And we had a memorable time. Weather was typical November (with an edge to it as all the weather seems to be getting 'edgier' around here lately). Heading down, we ran into rain as we turned south off I-10 and we spent day and night one with the sound of chilly rain drops hitting the roof. We arrived around dusk, picked up the key, picked up pizzas, and found *our* beach house for the week. We turned the tv on, the pool lights on, the electric fireplace on, grabbed blankets to wrap up in, and then settled back with pizza and wine coolers.

Lucky for us the weather warmed up gradually each day. Weather wise, Thanksgiving day was about as perfect as they come. Since the weather on day two was cold and blustery, we decided to drive to Destin and see the new Harry Potter movie, which I thought was quite good! The movie theater is in a big shopping complex and they had just decorated for Christmas. It was a lovely setting with the decorations, the choirs singing carols, and the cold windy weather. Really put one in the Christmas spirit. I was ready to be a true-blooded 'Merican and start shopping/spending, but my hubby and sons would have nothing of it. Where is my daughter when I need her??

We spent the rest of the week beach walking, soaking in the pool (heated -- thank God!), eating, exploring new beaches and cute (expensive) little shops. Since I can't sleep much past sunrise when at the beach, I would get up before everyone and walk the beach or the walking paths to buy pastries for breakfast, the morning paper, and a big cup of coffee to finish the walk with. The first couple of mornings J had breakfast cooking when I came back from my walk. Ah! I relax just thinking about it....

I had preorded our Thanksgiving dinner from the local grocery (Publix) and only had to pick it up and heat it. It was surprisingly good. I usually make and freeze the dressing and some sides at home a couple of weeks before we leave for the beach, but this year I said, "What the hell!" and just ordered the whole she-bang. No complaints. Could that have been because I promised A. that I would bake her a turkey....promised son #2 that I would make him some dressing....promised son #3 that I would make him a chocolate pie when we got back home?!?!? So....looks as if I'll be doing my regular cooking for Christmas.

As I said, these aren't the funky beaches I remember from my childhood -- I don't think those exist anymore. I think these beaches would like to be as laid back as they say they are, but....bottom line is they have been discovered. I mean, when a movie has been filmed there (The Truman Show), when Sheryl Crowe and Lance Armstrong vacation there, when Carl Rove has a house there....whad da ya expect? The striving artist can't afford to live there anymore, and I think it's a shame. But....that's just my opinion.

But still....all those big beautiful houses/condos/villas just sit there empty for weeks at a time when there are so many people needing a roof over their heads. On our way down, as we drove through the poor, poor, poor devistated MS coast where there were people spending Thanksgiving in tents or in FEMA trailers parked in their front yards or in hotels far away from home. Just give me a minute to 'adjust' my sense of reality, but how can there be so few with so much, and, at the same time, so many with so little? How is this possible? This planet abounds with wealth and resources. There is enough for all of us to be comfortable. Why aren't so many of us?

Well, as Regis said....I'm just one man (or woman, in my case).

One last quick thing. On our last day there was a Christmas parade down highway 30-A. That, my friends, was as close to beach tacky funky as you're probably gonna find now. ....I loved it! A prefect ending to a wonderful Thanksgiving.