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NEW ORLEANS - 29 JULY, 2001 - I was born on Monday, but as you know from the chronicle of the last few weeks, I've been living the life of Wednesday's child.
I wrote to my friend, Dragana, about the latest mishaps on Friday. This is what I said:
please - do not put everything and everyone to the test.
Wait, trust.
You are a good man -- I met you so I know.
With Love,
I sent her an e-mail of thanks. Made some explanation about being equally severe with others as I am with myself. I'm very severe with myself...
"It's too hot to rush around, partner," Matt chuckled.
Parts of this town are below sea level. There's a subterranean, semi-tropical concentration of moisture in these places that makes sweating a serious part of everyday life. We wear a constant patina in New Orleans. It's as much a part of you as your breath...
I walked down to the House of Blues today to take part in their regular Monday cattle call. You show up at 2:00 and fill out an application and then sit fanning yourself in the heat with 20 other people also looking for jobs. I applied for the box office, figuring not many people would want that job. I was right. Most people were after the Big Money jobs of wait staff or bartenders. That was a good sign, I think. Maybe I'll get the job. Lord knows I need it, if I am to make it here in New Orleans. I walk back in a steamy, steady downpour. It rains a lot here in the summer, I'm told. I check the mail, hoping that somebody else had decided to take pity on me. Dove has said he'll send something when he can. In about a week, he said. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
Meanwhile, my sister-in-law writes that (as Matt predicted) my bank screwed up and sent my ATM card to Bermuda. So I still don't even have access to my little bank account. Life is just wonderful for your Butterfly Soul. Please, please send donations.
Wish me luck on the job-hunt front, or in selling an article or two I'm trying to market right now. Other than that, sweating, checking the mail, hoping for a friendly telephone call --- well that's my whole life right now. Waiting. Praying. Waiting...
I have started reading Serbian Nobel Laureate Ivo Andric's The Bridge on the Drina. It is breath-taking and wonderful. This week, I shall begin working on learning the language better from the CD that Dragan and Dragana had made for me. I hope my ear for languages is as good as some people flatter it is.
"Work like you don't need the money,
Here's an example of how things have gone. My friend, Terry, kindly sent me $50 via Western Union. I walked the eight tenths of a mile to the nearest office, only to have the clerk say, "Sorry, my printer is down. I can't help you. Try somewhere else." I walked back home to sweat, sit under the ceiling fan while looking for the address of the next closest WU office. I walked the 1.8 miles to that office, through the waves of heat, only to have the clerk there tell me, "The money's in the system, but I can't give it to you." Why, I asked. "It says out of payment area." What does that mean? "I don't know. You'll have to have the sender call Western Union." Great. I walked back home. My neighbor across the street and future roomie Caio agreed to give me a lift to the bus station downtown where Mike Mallen had sent my clothes and the many books you and Dragan so graciously gave me. (Yayy!) There is a Western Union office there. Same answer. Frustrated I called Terry on Caio's cell phone to see if he could work it out. He called back, the money is in the system. "Man, this is a lot of hassle for a lousy $50!" he said. I asked the clerk if there was another number we needed to call. She gave me another 800 number where both Terry and I got live human beings. The whole hassle had been that the clerk at his WU office had typed in "CA" rather than "LA." No one we talked to, none of the clerks in any of the three offices had managed to figure out THERE IS NO NEW ORLEANS, CALIFORNIA. After all the walking and all the phone calls, Western Union finally decided that I had earned my friend's fifty bucks. Everything is going that way....
Well, not quite. Felicity Ussher sent me a card which arrived this Saturday. Inside was fifty pounds. A windfall! The card said:
Brighton Beach, UK
June, 2001
Dear Rod,
FelicityNawlins
New Orleans is a swelter. It gets so hot here that even the flies in our house walk, conserving the energy it would take for flying to use on more important pasttime. "Damn, man!" I said to Matt the first time I noticed this, "even the flies here are lazy."
Butterfly Soul
You can find all the vital statistics on sending in donations here.. Anything at all will be appreciated. Really.
THINGS I PRAY FOR THIS WEEK
1. That my friend Laila's health will improve.
2. A new job in my new town.
3. Selling some writing soon, very soon.
4. Accumulating enough money to pay all my bills and begin to save again for next year's journeys.
Thanks for coming back this week.
"Love like you've never been hurt,
"Dance like no one is watching..."
Rod
Rod was a columnist for the Andover News Network, where he wrote over two hundred articles on web design and development issues. He was also principal writer and Editor for IT Manager's Journal, where he reviewed technology issues weekly, producing 383 editorials. He became the Managing Editor for Electronic Mail/Newsletter Publications at Andover.net at the end of February, 2000, and left in September of the same year. He was a contributing writer for ACCESS magazine, which appears both on- and offline for 10 million readers in 100 newspapers like the San Francisco Chronicle, New York Post, Boston Herald, Austin American-Statesman, Denver Post and Orlando Sentinel, among others. Rod was the US reporter for Silicon.com, a division of Network Multimedia Television in London, UK, reaching 3.5 million European readers, until May, 2001.
Rod lives in New Orleans, Louisiana, right now. The new home of the magazine. But he plans to return to Serbia next year.
He continues to be committed to integrity, chastity and a dose of humility.
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