Has anyone checked the temperature in hell lately?

The only reason I ask is because, even though our heat is still here, our humidity has gone....POOF! (45%)

So nice to be able to step out your door and not be immediately drenched in sweat glistening.

So....I was just curious. Has it indeed frozen over?

Another Cajun Trinity......

Down here, good food, good drink and good music are part of any occasion. Whether we're celebrating or mourning, a warm spicy bowl of gumbo, a cold beer, and a little zydeco or jazz sooth the soul. Today we'll be remembering and trying to make sense of what happened a year ago. I have no doubt that the elements of this Cajun Trinity will be involved in most of this reminiscing.

This brings up another one of those losses on a list that never seems to end. So many recipes were lost in the storm. To some, this may not seem too important, but, down here, it matters--a lot. People are searching for recipes that were part of their lives--that favorite doberge cake for birthdays, that favorite sweet potato casserole for the holidays. Food brings continuity, familiarity, and comfort to lives that have been so drastically changed. There is a recipe for diaspora gumbo making the rounds.

When LSU won the BCS national championship in football there was so much music written to honor the occasion. That's the way it is here. Katrina has her own music. Here's a link to one of my favorites: Our Home Louisiana

http://www.bcbsla.com/web/media/Our_Home_Louisiana.mp3

So many ugly images of New Orleans and Louisiana have gone out across the world (deservedly so in some cases), but there is so much more to this state and its people. I read a comment saying New Orleans, in any season, is not for the faint of heart and that may be true. Yet, if she casts her spell on you--she's got cha--forever.

If things had gone differently after the storm, if things had been done correctly, if things had been done....I think, I hope, we would have seen a different story playing out on tvs across the world. I've heard people say that what we saw in NOLA could/should have opened a national forum on race and poverty. Why didn't it?

As the current Battle of New Orleans is being fought, I think it is important to remember the severity of what happened to the city and its people. These excerpts from an article in the NY Times describing NOLA in the days after Katrina zero in:

"....a catatonic city, in which basic societal tenets - such as, we collect our dead - had joined other precious belongings in floating away."

"A full week after the hurricane, as the colossal forensic challenge before them came more clearly in focus, various government officials struggled with an awkward but unavoidable question: who is going to pick up the bodies? Federal and state officials quarreled with one another over who had responsibility for collection: The Federal Emergency Management Agency? Louisiana? The National Guard? Meanwhile, dead Americans decomposed on American soil."

"Civilizations are often judged by how they treat their deceased," Mr. Jensen said. In the case of the Louisiana dead, he added, "the system failed."

Blame, disgust, judgment....bring it on. Just keep it in context, please.

When good comes out of so much horror.....

I'm gonna put my feelings in words while still feeling the effects of Old Grand-Dad and Coke I'm brave enough to voice them....

Good has come out of the horrors of Katrina. There. I've said it. I've heard it said many times since Katrina struck, but (even tho I knew what was being said had some truth in it) I could never bring myself to agree, vocally. ....To do so would be to negate the horrors of Katrina--wouldn't it??

No, I've decided, it wouldn't. Being a slow learner....I've finally heard enough people who were directly affected by Katrina say how they've grown and learned--in positive ways--that I can now feel my acknowledging their gains won't deminish their loss. The final straw for me was hearing a fourth grade Orleans Parish student (a friggin' FOURTH GRADE CHILD) say, when asked how she hoped her New Orleans school would be better post-Katrina, she realized (after spending these last months in Atlanta)that her school should have toilet tissue. She said her mom shouldn't have to send toilet tissue to school with her. Jeeeeezus Christ!

Those of us in other parts of Louisiana knew what a failed city New Orleans was. We knew, but felt so helpless--and then anger, because there wasn't a chance in hell that we could do anything about it. New Orleans ran this state. They had the numbers. They had the busses--oh, yes, the busses ran during election times. What the hell was the problem with Katrina'a approach?

So, with Katrina's remembrance fast approaching (and....Ernesto's nasty self heading for the Gulf) how do we reconcile the feelilngs of hope that in Katrina's aftermath things might be better for many of Katrina's victims with those feelings of utter saddness over their losses?

It's the first day of school!

I remember loving the first day of a new school year. Brand new #2 yellow pencils with sharpened points and perfect pink erasers, and a pencil box with a sliding top to put them in. Brightly colored notebooks with unmarked snow white pages. Cartridge pens filled with blue ink waiting to flow over the pages. Lunch money jingling around until it was spent on sloppy joes - the traditional first day fare. New dresses, shoes, sweaters, hair ribbons. That's how I remember feeling eons ago when I was an elementary student.

By high school things had changed - the 60's had arrived - in B'ham, Al. I remember my mother's concern over which schools were to be intergrated and what might transpire. I remember the demonstrations outside my high school and the principal, coaches, and football players standing guard at exits to prevent any of us from joining the demonstrators. I remember a brave redheaded friend jumping over the outside railings and running to join the demonstrators across the street on the soccer field. (The demonstrators had been told where they could demonstrate and they obeyed. No police. Things were more or less orderly in the burbs of B'ham. Not so downtown.) I remember an English teacher loosing it in class one day, dropping his arms by his side, shoulder slumped in defeat as he looked out at us sitting at our desks with nothing more on our minds except our weekend plans. With a tone in his voice that captured our attention he asked us if we had any idea, any idea at all that in downtown B'ham police were using fire hoses and setting dogs on other human beings. We didn't.

It's difficult to imagine now, but back then there wasn't the constant media coverage like there is today. There was the 5 o'clock news and the newspaper, but my friends and I didn't pay attention to that. Our parents didn't talk about it in front of us. We had long since stopped riding the bus downtown. Our suburbs had everything we needed. A safe, sterile bubble where our parents attempted to keep much of the rest of the world at bay. I guess, at the time, they thought it was best. Things were different then.

When my daughter transferred to a college in Mississippi I was glad because I wanted her to know what it meant to be Southern. Even though she was born and raised in south Louisiana, it's not truly Southern. She took a history course her first year there, and about a month into the course she called and asked, with a voice of amazement (reminiscent of my high school English teacher's), "Mom! B'ham. The dogs! The water hoses! Did you know about that?" All I could think was....Well, shit! We talked, but I don't know if something like that can ever be explained - today - out of context. The THAT that needed explaining was how I, how anyone, could have lived such an unconscious life in times such as those.

....Sheesh! I've hijacked my own post! I don't know where alllll the above came from. All I really intended to say was....tomorrow is the first day of school for my baby, and he called me tonight, excited about it - beginnng his third year of college. I could tell he was a little embarrassed because he tried to talk about several other things until he finally settled into telling me about his classes and what he hoped they would be like. His call gave me the warm, fuzzy feeling that only a rum and coke has been able to accomplish lately.

One thing he said disturbed me. He told me that since he'd been going to school in Mississippi, he understood me better. WTF! ....You'd think I'd learn my lesson about sending my children to Mississippi. One way or the other it'll bite you in the butt.

I wish I could remember exactly how he said it......

I will eventually watch Spike Lee's "When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts" in its entirety. I couldn't quite manage it yet.

Tonight, I heard Wynton Marsalis make a comment that, to me, was very powerful. To paraphrase, he said that we are at an important moment in our history. We are seeing what's wrong with us. He went on to say that it's like looking in a mirror and maybe not liking what you see so you turn this way and that way to try and make the image better. He ended by saying....don't turn away.

Over this last year I've lost a few friends because of differences in reactions to last August's disaster. I'm pretty laid back. I don't speak up, don't confront people when I sometimes should. But, the horrors that have taken place down here have made it impossible for me to listen silently to people who have no understanding of why what happened here -- happened. I don't claim to understand either, but I'm sure as hell trying to. It's incedibly painful to try and imagine what someone who has lost their entire history must be going through and how you can do anything to help. Much easier to give faux-empowerment to victims by saying that they should have done something. It's scary for some people to think that maybe a victim actually couldn't have done anything differently.

It's a complicated situation. Without a doubt, many of those we saw waving from rooftops have made bad choices in life. But that doesn't make them bad people. From my teaching experience I've seen how people in this state have been oppressed and held back for political benefit. It has sickened me for years. The Katrina aftermath is a direct result. Generational wellfare at its best, folks. I've actually had people say to me that God was punishing New Orleans and its people. I told them their God has a piss poor sense of direction because He missed a hell of a lot of people deserving of His punishment, IMO.

....This is totally off topic, but..I just read that New Orleans is losing about 70 million gallons of water a day to leaks, almost as much water as is making it to homes. Water pressure is so bad in parts of the city that officials have helicopters on standby to haul lake water to douse fires. How can that be?

Our four-legged friends......

Jazz funeral this weekend for Katrina's animal victims

Mike Conti/WWL Anchor-Reporter

8-19-06

The Louisiana SPCA has organized a special memorial service to honor the pets that died in Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath.

The agency estimates that over five thousand animals may have died in the storm. Many of those animals were unacustomed to the stress that came with evacuating and being pulled away from their homes.

"We're coming up on the aniversay of Katrina, and we're certainly thinking a lot about the animals lost in the hurricane and how we can commemorate them," said Ana Zorilla of the Louisiana SPCA.

The Jazz Funeral starts Sunday afternoon at 5 o'clock at the corner of Decatur and Esplanade. Following the march, an interfaith memorial service will be held at St. Anna's Episcopal Church at 1313 Esplanade.

Guests are asked to bring pictures or mementos of their animals for the Jazz Funeral, but pets will not be allowed inside the church.


SOME INTERESTING FACTS:


"Officials were surprised to learn that 6 out of 10 families own a beloved pet and 5 out of 10 own two or more. The Fritz Institute's poll hammered home the role pets play in our lives. Of the people who stayed for Katrina, 44 percent said they remained because of pets; 18 percent because of relatives."

"State lawmakers took note and passed model legislation ensuring that animal issues have a seat at the table in disaster planning. Pets undoubtedly matter."

Area code wars......

It started last school year, mostly in middle schools, and is continuing this year.... area code wars. The 225's and the 504's are going at it hot and heavy. Such an odd thing to me. Katrina evacs from New Orleans (area code 504) and our Baton Rouge home-boys (area code 225)are beating the hell out of each other -- at school and at home. We had a near riot situation in one neighborhood last week. Our mayor has said that what he fears most is a riot that our police department won't be able to handle.

I just can't help wondering how the area codes became the defining factor. Okay, originally, BR and NOLA shared the 504 area code. When a new area code was needed, there was fierce competition :) between the two cities to keep the old area code. (We fight over such important things down this way.) Alas, and of course, NOLA won, and we in BR were pretty upset and said nasty things about New Orleans. But that was not unusual. I just can't believe these kids are old enough to remember that. And....I can't believe they are well-informed enough to even know of the dispute.

One thing I do know is that there is so much anger around here and it's so frickin' hot!

Some trips to the grocery store are worse than others......

More times than not, I hate going to the grocery store. Maybe that's why I wait until 10 or 11 pm to go -- it's less crowded for sure, but since that's apparently when they stock the shelves, it turns into an obstacle course making my way around allllllll the boxes of stuff. I guess there's no good time to go. Even so, my last trip was memorable.

Sunday, J and I went to Michael's to pick up a print we'd had framed for A. We needed a couple of things and since there is an Albertson's right there we decided to run in and pick up what we needed. We made our way through the store (which felt dirty to me) and to the checkout. As usual, only a fraction of the gazillion registers were open, and the lines were l-o-n-g. We chose a line and started waiting our turn. That's when it started.

Ahead of us was a man who looked to be 40ish with his son (6 or 7 years old, maybe). To say this man was agitated would be an understatement. He was dripping sweat, his shirt was soaking wet (it was hot outside but the store was cool). He would tell his son to wait with the buggy and then he would go from line to line, looking down the lines to the checkers and then sigh loudly and wave his arms around. Finally, I guess he reached his limit and he started ranting to all of us near him.

He was saying things like: "Nobody knows how to work anymore. Look at those lazy fools (talking about the checkers at the registers) they should be strung up. All our jobs are being sent overseas and look where it's getting us. All we have left are dumbasses like these. People sending our jobs out of the country should be lined up and shot. They aren't Americans. They are ruining this country. They should be put on ships and drowned." His language devolved until he was liberally using words he felt the need to apologize for -- to the ladies standing within hearing distance. His son was busy trying to sneak candy into the basket from the shelves so conveniently placed, child-height, along the checkout line....which added to his father's consternation.

On and on he went. He had such a thick accent it was hard to understand him. I don't know exactly why, but we figured it was Pakistani. Finally, with tears running down his cheeks, he raised his hands and said (to one and all) that he had just managed to bring his family over and now....and NOW, the whole country was going to hell.

Thinking back, I guess he didn't alarm any of us because noone called security or felt the need to do anything. But, holy moly, I still don't know what to think about all that anger.

People are acting peculiarly. A Times-Picayune photographer lost it last week. The police pulled him over for erratic driving and he fell to his knees and begged them to kill him. Makes me wonder if they are spraying something in the air....

UP, UP, and AWAY with Montgolfier Gas.......

The balloons are back and they are beautifully surreal. It never fails to stun me to walk outside....glance up at the sky and see those vividly colorful pear shapes silently floating overhead. It's as if I'm transported to another time, another era. But....if I happen to see the huge advertisements printed on the balloons' surfaces (COCA COLA, CURVES, WBRZ TV), I'm brought back to the present with a jolt.

Hot air balloons. Another gift from the French.