-> MY GLASS HOUSE
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Lizard Lick, NC, USA - 7 September 2005: In a New York Times article this morning about a "backlash" in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA, causing people there to buy guns to "deal with" the influx of refugees from New Orleans, a yahoo from up there explained that that was their way of dealing with the "Yats."
As anyone who has lived in New Orleans knows, we often greeted each other with the expression, "Whereyat?" (Where are you at?) It is our equivalent of "Que paso?" or "Comment ce va?"
One of my first e-mails to Matt, after he evacuated the city had the "Subject" line: "WhereYat?" It's part of the New Orleans Way ...
As my friend, Logan Bentley, has said at our Special Report on the New Orleans disaster, people are beginning to learn about the reality of New Orleans now, as opposed to the fantasy picture of always bon temps roulez.
If you lived and worked in Nawlins during the summer there was very little bon temps to go around.
People at the top of the food chain high-tailed it out of town until the weather got better and the tourists upon whom we all preyed returned. Everybody else tightened their belts, hunkered down, and tried to ride the leans times out.
I'm speaking, of course, about that majority of the population that survived by working in the service industry. The old money, the plutocrats who owned everything - well they never had to worry about jack and still don't. That's the Nawlins Way.
The rest of us were what that gentleman in Baton Rouge referred to as "the Yats."
It is a perverse twist of Fate, I believe, another of the Great Mysteries cosmic jokes, that after I spent literal years writing about New Orleans, now EVERYONE -- everyone from Maureen Dowd to Joe Commentator at the Oskhosh Gazette - is suddenly writing about New Orleans. The only distinction I now have in this flood of newsprint and air time about the Not So Big and Never That Easy is that I actually lived there until only a few months ago, as these people have not. I became part of the lore of the French Quarter, for better or worse, and everybody knew my name.
I can write about New Orleans with authenticity as Maureen and Joe cannot.
I don't have to use the example of this disaster as a subtext to some other agenda or body of work. My blood, literally, is on the streets of New Orleans, my sweat, my tears.
It crossed my mind that now, if ever, might just be the time to pitch the long-threatened New Orleans book to some agent or p ublisher. Why not?
I heard from my dear friend Terry right before the madness of Hurricane Katrina began.His e-mail started out: "Hey Dog - Despite everything I am not dead yet.
Nor am I going to be anytime soon."
I was glad of his continued sense of humor. Later on in his missive he admitted that doing things that most people take for granted had begun to seem like a chore for him. Effects of the medication.
People are always encouraging me not to worry about them when I know I should. Worry and pray, right?
22 September, 2005: Autumn has arrived. The time of Harvest is upon us.
As part of my personal harvest, two things have happened:
Yes, the Old Philosopher is once again being paid to write.
- I was commissioned to write the Nawlins Book I've been talking about for years, describing the Crescent City as it existed before Hurricane Katrina. (More on that below.)
- I was commissioned to write an article about podcasting for a print magazine.
It's long overdue.
Also, I've applied for the Kiplinger Fellowship in Public Affairs Journalism. I know I'm a dark horse candidate for this kind of thing but, as the punchline to the joke goes, "You can't win, if you don't play."
Should I garner the Fellowship, it is my intention to go back to school and get my Masters in Journalism. Keep fingers and toes crossed for me, my little loves.
Meanwhile, I've continued trying to locate and talk with as many of my friends from NOLA as I can. Thus far, there's been no bad news. Most of the my friends are in others states, spread across the country. Some might return to New Orleans in the coming months, others say they will never go back. Some already have plans, others are wandering the country like nomads. Refugees.
My pal. Greg, writes from Abita Springs, Louisiana:
Dear all-[Emphasis mine. - RA]Sorry to blanket cc you, but with Rita bearing down, time is of the essence. Even though category 5 hurricane Rita may not hit the New Orleans area directly (of course, there is still THAT horrible possibility!), The Corp of Engineers (the geniuses who designed and "maintained" the breached levee system) are saying that even a rainfall of more than 3" will be a major concern to the already compromised levees. Any signicant storm surge will be quite disastrous.
In other words, the nightmare may not be over. NOT that we are wishing the worst on Texas, but ...
Not too worried about where I'm staying now in Abita Springs (north of Lake Ponchartrain), but the canals by Teresa's house in Slidell (eastern side of LP) are filled with water and debris, so even a little rain is going cause a lot of trouble there. Teresa has worked so hard to get her house cleaned up and dry, it's going to be a back -- and spirit-breaker if it floods again. Sure, we will clean it up again, but how much can a person take?
Anyway, before Rita gets here, I thought I should give you some good news.
Yesterday Michael and I donned bright orange disaster relief vests -- usually available at your neighborhood Wal-Mart for 97¢ ... we had to buy the $5 ones, of course -- stuck a magnetic sign reading "SBPets, Animal Rescue Force" that we had to drive most of Tuesday to get from someone who'd responded to the post I put online about his cats, and headed for New Orleans. The ruse worked like a charm. (We'd been turned away the day before without the sign or vests.)
Got to M's house and captured Porgy, the male cat, in about 5 minutes. Bess, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. We called and whistled, walked the neighborhood, did the usual sounds and other things to let her know we were there.
No Bess.
Finally (a couple hours later) I thought, "Cats like to sit under cars (which always seemed like a stupid idea to me). Maybe she's under that red car in the driveway behind the house?" Sure enough, there she was. She wasn't going to come to me, tho. Or, to Michael. He got close enough to rub her nose, but when he tried to grab her, she took off.
But, she did go back to his house. So by the time we got back around the block she was inside eating food from her bowl. But, as soon as Michael opened the front door, she scooted out the back door and went under the house. So, he sat by the back door calling her. At one point she came up to the very top step, about a foot away from his outstretched hand, then scooted under the house again.
("Damn cat!")
Then I had the BRILLIANT IDEA (like, duhhh!) to open a can of cat food. Donja know she came running into the house, I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and shoved her in the other cage.
Whew!!!
So now there are four cats staying with us in Abita. Jack and Cindy, the owners of the house, are coming back from North Carolina on Sunday with their two dogs, a big white lab and a small weiner dog. Will be a houseful! Actually, I will probably take my two cats and my stuff to Teresa's then. If Rita hasn't wreaked havoc there, that is.
Michael is going to have to figure out some long term plan for himself and his cats, though. Jack and Cindy have been saying we can all stay as long as we want, but we all know about how long that really means.
What a mess this natural disaster stuff can be!
Meanwhile, I also went into my apartment and got the rest of the computer stuff I left behind -- I can now do some web site work that's been waiting for me! (if they ever get the cable modem working again at T's) -- along with a small bag of clothes, CD's, and other misc stuff. Had to leave all of artwork and most of my other "lovely things" behind. Again. Try to imagine being able to only take what you can fit in your car's trunk (if you have a car!). It's a very strange and discomforting thing. When I left the place I had a distinct feeling that I wouldn't be going back there for a long time. I'm guessing (hoping) for no more than two months, but it could be much longer than that before the city gets the water and sewerage systems working again. I ain't goin' back until I know it's safe! And even then, I may wait another month.
Sighhhhhhhhhhhh ...
Actually, New Orleans -- at least the small part of it I saw -- didn't look all that bad. I was expecting much worse. Then again, I didn't go into the badly flooded areas where they still probably have 2 or 3 feet of water from the 12-18 they had after the storm. Those areas are going to be bulldozed to the ground.
Imagine that, if you can
Never mind.
If you aren't in the middle of this mess, you really can't imagine it.Fact is, I and all those around me have been extremely lucky. So far I still haven't heard of anyone I know who's died. There are still many people I haven't heard a word from and I think of more every day. But I have hopes that they all got to higher ground and made it through.
OK, that's all I have time for today.
I'll try to keep in touch more often, but...well, who knows what Rita may bring.Hugs to all-
GregI talked to my pal Scott Salin, who's now moved to Minneapolis/St. Paul and is busily polishing his resumé and trying to locate housing for he and his inamorata Tierney. He sounded okay and said he'd try to re-establish an online life soon as part of his efforts to get back to a "normal" life. We trade notes about friends we've located and their plans, the progress on the Nawlins book, what charity I mean to send a percentage of the proceeds toward.
23 September 2005: Get an e-mail from Tim Farley, the long-time manager of Molly's at the Market. He is in Ohio, in transit, but writes he is headed to New Orleans this weekend. He answers some queries I put to him for the book and gives me the link for the charity I hope to support. Need to check them out when next online.
I'm a bit taken aback that Tim should choose this weekend to reconnoiter. There's Rita, after all. Maybe he didn't know when he left Wisconsin.
FROM ROD'S PHOTO ALBUM
The first of this week's photos is one that is slated to appear in the New Orleans book I hope to see the galleys for by next week. It is of my friend, former customer and drinking buddy, Dr. Bob.
Dr. Bob is a well-known artist in New Orleans who used to live in Ninth Ward. His "Be Nice or Leave" signs are ubiquitous in establishments in the French Quarter, the Marigny and the Bywater districts of that city in those establishments that still survive.
A lot of what I have to say in the book of the lost city of New Orleans is really written for people who lived there as I did, before Katrina, before we and our city became a focus of national attention -- after it did not exist anymore.
THAT New Orleans is gone forever. I know that. I have talked to people who I knew and laughed and loved with every day who will never, ever return. No matter what.
The plutocrats are already rushing to the government trough to get all the money they can to put another city in its place. Disneyland with cocktails.
Dr. Bob was still in Nawlins immediately after Katrina hit. But he had a new sign. It said, "You loot, I shoot."
The latest I've heard is that he has decamped to Memphis where he is alive and getting better ...
The next two photos are visual jokes about the price of gasoline. Now that Hurricane Rita is barreling toward the Gulf Coast, it is predicted that the price of gasoline in many places here in the United States will go up to as much $5.00/gallon in some places.
(Longtime Loyal Readers know how I feel about this development. "The higher the better," says Rod. Maybe this will finally wean some of you (you know who you are) from continuing the abominable practice of driving around day-in and day-out as the only person in your vehicle. It has to stop. To you killing all of us and our planet.)
The first gasoline joke was sent to me by multiple people, but the first one was my dear little sister Becky. I got a good laugh out of that one.
The "gas guage" visual joke was sent to me by that irrepressible jokester, DC, over in Florida.
Thanks and a tip of the hat!
The G21 READERSHIP POLL
As the Holiday Season approaches, our thoughts turn to loved ones, expenses, taxes, what has transpired during the waning year and our dreams for the upcoming year. We tally things unfinished and things to be accomplished. Our harvest season poll is meant to address these issues.THE POLL QUESTION: What has happened thus far this year that really "rocked your world" and how does it change your plans for next year?
DEADLINE: 31 OCTOBER, 2005. The responses and results will appear in NOVEMBER. Thanks in advance!
THE MYTH OF AMERICA
I wrote in my Special Report on the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans that America was being confronted with the difference between the myth of New Orleans and the real New Orleans.What is also being exposed, both from the Katrina debacle and now the daily reports from CNN about the bungling evacuation of the Houston, Texas, area in preparation for Hurricane Rita is the myth of America. The two storms and our reactions to them are bring flashed across the world by CNN and exposing how the hyper-power hype about efficiency and dynamism is just that - hype, totally ddivorced from the reality of how this country operates.
Reading some of the scathing editorials written in newspapers and magazines abroad after Katrina, one cannot but see that the disaster was not just for the people immediately affected but also for whatever threads of respect existed for the officials of our government.
The fact that we must openly admit that the money to pay for the aftermath - from relocating people to rebuilding infrastructure and cities - will be done with more borrowed money because our government has over-tapped its financial resources should be considered a point of extreme national outrage. That it is not is merely another sign of how far down the road of ignoring the bankruptcy of national policies we have gone.
That the national government in the United States is considering anything less than the repeal of its welfare for the wealthy - ehm, tax cuts - while dealing with the problems of two Gulf disasters, one in the Persian Gulf and one in the Gulf of Mexico, defies all reason.
The whole world is watching and what they are seeing is a country so obsessed with consumption, so unwilling to admit its imbalances and unheeding of its own shortcomings - all in the name of "staying the course" on an ideological level - that it is stinging itself with its own venom.
That is the real America, as opposed to the myth, that everyone in the world is seeing clearly now --- that is, everyone except us.
I'm sure that there will be those reading this journal entry who will assume that, "Oh, that's Rod's inherent pessimism at work again."I was being hopeful by comparison to reports in the upcoming Nation magazine and what you can learn about the oligarch's rubbing their greedy palms together down in New Orleans right now at DemocracyNow!. I recommend the transcript of this report to those of you who still want to believe that New Orleans will ever be the same again.
Thanks for coming back this week. Keep me in your prayers as I keep you in my own.
THINGS I PRAY FOR AGAIN THIS WEEK
1 - The sucess of my book on New Orleans and, one day, my return to the Crescent City. (Who knows -- maybe even in triumph.)
2 - A social life.
3 - A girlfriend.
"Work like you don't need the money,
"Love like you've never been hurt,
"Dance like no one is watching ... "
Love,
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 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 Internet magazine, which appeared 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.
In 2002, he worked as Assistant to the General Manager of a Big Easy company that does restaurants and nightclubs. He did sti nts as the Resident Philosopher at three separate gin mills in that city in the French Quarter and the Marigny, earning his stripes during two successive Mardi Gras seasons. Oh yeah, Rod's had Day Jobs working construction. Mostly renovations of old New Orleans structures, houses and a bar. Sometimes he designs Web sites for other people so that he can get his creative juices flowing the way he can't at a staid publication like this one. And he's been the instructor in Editing for Internet Publications at the Novi Sad School of Journalism in Yugoslavia.
Our Resident Philosopher has exchanged his legend mobility for a means of keeping your World's Magazine. Now he must become earnest about gaining a financial underpinning for this enterprise. (Read: Buy back his freedom.}.
In his spare time, he chases women in the manner that a fly pursues a spider. 
He continues to be committed to integrity, chastity and a dose of humility.
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