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yeah, yeah 6-6-6 & you know what-all P & I can say about this new Damien/Omen movie is…"its been done". However, I am back from the dentist-halfway through the work of needing a new crown- half my head injected with so much novocaine that 1 hr later I feel like one of those ginormo Easter Island blockheads.
Sheesh, I’m a therapist and need to speak & have expressions on my face when I work! This stuff better wear off soon.
Going back to NOLA again was one of those emotionally bizarro experiences. Any shred of faith I have left in the government doing the right thing gets razed to bits, the destruction from my Nov. 05 pics and the ones from May 06 are almost the SAME. This despite the fact that it’s again officially hurricane season. Only difference is that now there are flimsy FEMA trailers around. See for yourself.
http://www1.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=43262821/a=6175961_6175961/t_=6175961
Yet going there I am always totally overhwhelmed by the warmth and spirits of both the locals who are still standing, and my fellow volunteers. My orange SAHMSA shirt colleagues who I’ve referred to as the "lunatics who run toward disaster instead of away from it". It makes me so proud to stand humbly in their ranks. Such folks who give and love and embody the soul of the phrase "the kindness of strangers" revives my will to keep on fighting the good fight in the face of the capitalist, soulless machine.
This last visit I had lunch with cops, ate at Red Fish grill 3 times in 3 days, had beignets and cafe au lait and gumbo that will take me weeks to work off my waist, walked through ruined cemetaries, looked into empty tombs, learned how to eat crawfish, had lunch at a Confederate honkytonk redneck bar, realized that my near-70 yr old friend Delma is more technologically advanced that I am, flirted with handsome firemen at the station, had a fab dinner of raw oysters, margarita & beignet (recipe for Pepto), stood on a puny levee and felt my heart break wide open, visited the garish Harrah’s, walked among the rubble of people’s homes, breathed in that Missisipi mud-air each day, sought turtles and alligators in the canals, adopted a temporary Southern accent,fraternized with fancy state reps and feds who are supposed to make the disaster plans that will save all our asses when the next big one comes along. I also discovered my new favorite song (A. Toussants "Yes we can" find it on the New Orleans benefit album).
And always, every single time I am in NOLA someone buys me a drink (or many). You gotta love this town. I also came home and proceeded to pass around divine treats from Southern Candymakers.
Perhaps I am being unfaithful, but I can no longer say I’ve left my heart in San Francisco. The new theme song is "Do you know what it means, to miss New Orleans?" preferably the version sung by Armstrong himself.
Can’t wait to take P there and show him this UnAmerican American city. Let’s just cross our fingers that it’s not hurricane-y when we are there in Aug.
Make Levees, Make Love - Not War.
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