Using a major storm as a tool

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Any experience can serve to give you insight and deeper awareness. Today the Northeast of U.S. is awakening from a major blow delivered by Hurricane Irene. Six years ago I awoke from a similar blow delivered by Katrina. And, while some people might recoil to hear me say this, Katrina was one of the best experiences I ever had.

Obviously no one wants hardship. We all crave sublime experiences, but disaster and hardship contain sublime moments if you can get past the panic and agony. Katrina was a horrible tragedy for many people, and so is Irene.

For what it’s worth to others here is what I learned from Katrina:

  • Fear and gossip are useless in a tragedy, as they are in everyday life
  • Clarity of purpose is easier in a tragedy, as it should be (but usually isn’t) in everyday life
  • The most valuable thing in life is helping people and having clarity.

For the next few days, or weeks, many people will have their lives disrupted. Their precious routines will cease and they’ll have to confront each day with fresh eyes. We can dwell on fear and gossip, or we can use this moment to reorient our lives and create something more powerful.

That choice is always there, but for some reason it’s sometimes easier to appreciate in a tragedy. I found something powerful in Katrina that allowed me to change my life for the better. I hope that everyone can find that same thing that I found.

Treme - HBO's helpful reminder of the way things were

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Pretty much everyone here thinks that the HBO series Treme, which is about post-Katrina New Orleans, is right on the money. The most recent episode, which aired last Sunday, takes place roughly in January of 2006.

I was talking with a friend yesterday at lunch and she agreed that how much we've forgotten about our post-storm adventures. We'd both forgotten about the shooting that took place at the Second Line, which was covered in last week's episode. She echoed what I've heard many other people here say: Treme is often unsettling because it brings back so many painful memories.

I have a blog that chronicled my thoughts all through Katrina and after, but I've never really gone back to look at what I wrote. After watching Treme I wondered what I wrote about in January of 2006.  If you're curious too, here's a link to the posts from then (if you want to move forward or backward from that point just go to the bottom of the page and click on the links that say 'Previous' or 'Next').

I think it would be kind of cool if local bloggers could somehow create an integrated blog chronology.  Then again, maybe it'd be too painful. I guess I'll just stick to watching Treme.

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Lundi Night Football - Category 5 revelry predicted

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Picture 4New Orleans is filled with anticipation because the Saints are playing the New England Patriots tonight on national TV.  Of course, we'd like to continue our undefeated streak and all. But, really, the game is more about proving that we're really as good as folks are saying. Tonight is our Big Moment, and everyone is hoping we can seize that moment. 

After Katrina the city was filled with despair. The Saints' owner supposedly wanted to move the team to San Antonio, but the league blocked him.  The last Monday Night Football game that can be compared to this one is when the Saints played Atlanta in 2006.  We were supposed to lose that game, but we came out on fire and that big win became the catalyst for an amazing season, which ended when we lost to Chicago. After that we went back to struggling.

But now, we've stopped struggling.

Tonight is the bookend to that 2006 Monday Night game.  And people are fired up!!!  The great thing about New Orleans is that no one has to explain how to get ready for an event like this. People just know, and adjust without thinking much about it.  Celebrating is something we do the same way that water rolls off of a duck's back.  

This morning as I was driving my daughter to school, heading down Magazine Street, I saw a woman walking her labrador and the dog was wearing a large Saints jersey.  It seemed awkward, but obviously the dog was used to wearing it.  Now, mind you, this is at 8 in the morning and the game isn't until 7 tonight.  If you walk around it feels like it's the day before Mardi Gras.

Picture 3People have been preparing for this for a long time, in many cases for their whole life.  My dad had season tickets when the Saints first organized and I was at every game in the early years.  I saw John Gilliam run back the opening kickoff of our first regular season game against the Rams.  Things went mostly downhill from there.  We had some bright spots (e.g. when Tom Dempsey kicked the 63 yard field goal against Detroit, which I was there for too).  But mostly, it's been a struggle.

For years it was said that the Saints were cursed, or that the Superdome had inadvertently been built on an Indian gravesite.  Well, tonight we'll see if the the curse has finally been lifted.  A lot of good things have happened in New Orleans since Katrina.  But the good things don't seem to get as much press as the bad stuff (e.g. like our loud-mouth, brain-impaired mayor, or the corrupt politicians who store money in their freezers). Tonight we have a chance for the world to see us as we really are: dedicated, hard-working and enthusiastic about life. 

If the Saints win tonight it will be an immediate holiday. I remember what it felt like when the Katrina winds were howling around my dad's condo, and I bet that tonight will feel lot like that. I'll be at the game tonight wearing my special T-shirt that I got at the Dirty Coast T-Shirt shop on Magazine St.  The slogan on the T-shirt is something that only people who have lived in New Orleans would understand (or people who have spent a lot of time at Jazz Fest).  

So if you understand what it means to miss New Orleans, and to live with her through her epic struggles, then you'll understand what tonight is all about.  This is more than a football game.  This is a moment of truth.  Tonight we won't be counting on any help from outside the city.  

Tonight we'll help ourselves.

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Requiem for a blogger

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Chris Rose, for those out of town readers who might not know this, is a local writer. He started out as the 'entertainment reporter' for the Times Picayune, but his trenchant observations about celebrity phoniness soon disqualified him from that mindless assignment. Even though he wasn't from New Orleans he quickly dissolved into a local character. He reveres the bawdy inconsistencies that are the essence of New Orleans.

I was surprised that Rose never wrote about the bloggers of New Orleans. He had to be aware of their existence, especially Ashley Morris, who lashed out at Rose from time to time. Well, it turns out that Rose did know of Ashley Morris, and of Ashley's recent death. Turns out that Rose encountered him in meatspace (as bloggers often refer to the physical world). And it seems that Rose understood what caused Ashley's death: "he was huge and he lived too large and laughed too loud and that kind of behavior can kill a man."

No doubt.

I'm glad to know that Rose met and appreciated Ashley for who he really was. Still, on behalf of Ashley, I do have to take issue with one aspect of Rose's tribute. It would be wrong to lump Ashley into a group that Rose calls 'amateur curmudgeons.' Ashley struck me as a pretty serious curmudgeon, one easily misjudged by those who live comfortably in the superficial world.

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The Road Home Program is run by morons

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Picture_1 F. Scott Fitzgerald once said "the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time."  Conversly, I suggest, the sign of moron-level intelligence is the inability to keep track of two simple things.

Following Katrina's devastation Congress allocated money to be given to home-owners who suffered flood damage. Not every one was eligible, but those who were eligible were sent to a 'Road Home closing' that was supposed to be like a regular real estate closing.  The net outcome was the State of Louisiana would send the homeowner some money.  This is, of course, a complete fairy tale.

I attended a Road Home closing for a friend who took a temporary teaching assignment in Europe.  I had an 'approved power of attorney.'  On the appointed day and hour I went to a downtown building and, after riding the elevator up to the 12th floor, I was greeted by the sign pictured above left.  I was the only one scheduled for a closing that afternoon, but there were about seven people there too --hanging around watching the TV in the waiting room.  I arrived on time, but was told to wait.  No one else was closing so there was really no need for me to wait.  Or maybe there was some reason, but I just couldn't perceive it.  In any case, the closing took place and was QC'd by another "supervising attorney" in an adjoining room filled with empty folding chairs.

I was told everything was in order and that my client/friend could expect to receive the money wired into his account in 7 business days.  That was on September 20th, or 49 days ago.

In the interim I have called various phone numbers where usually no one answers and I am told to leave a message (which I dutifully do) and then my call is never returned.  If I do manage to win the lottery and speak to a live person, I am told various things (never the same thing) about why the matter is in "pull back status."  Eventually I managed to speak to someone who told me that it was 'all a big mistake' and my client 'would receive the money soon.'  But, she said that, first, she would call me in (you guessed it) 7 business days.  Last Thursday, my phone didn't ring.  It was the Road Home program, not calling me as usual.

Today I called someone that I had encountered along the way who was very helpful and candid about how screwed up the program is.  I won't say who the person is because I'm not at liberty to do that.  But one thing I learned was that apparently a lot of closings were put into 'pull back status' because the ICF (the company that runs the Road Home Program) had lost track of which of the two closing companies had handled a batch of applications.  So, they just put a blanket hold on a bunch of files.

Did they call the people who were affected and tell them that their files were being placed into 'pull back status'?  No, of course not.  Did they provide cogent explanations about why the files were placed into 'pull back status' when they were asked?  Well, no because --first-- they didn't answer their phones or return messages, and --second-- because...obviously they lack basic skills.  Like how to count, for example.

Kindergarten students are sometimes told to form two lines.  They do this easily.  Later on they learn to divide by numbers greater than two.  The people who run the Road Home Program cannot even keep track of two closing companies.  Expecting them to return phone calls or provide cogent explanations is utterly unrealistic.  In short, the Road Home Program is a toxic waste dump of sloth, incompetence and disfunctionality. I feel sorry for anyone who lost their house in Katrina.  But I feel especially horrible for those who believed that the Road Home Program would help them. 

Depending on the government in Louisiana to help you is like Charlie Brown thinking that Lucy is going to let him kick the football.  Don't expect help from the government in Louisiana, especially if you're drowning.  They'll make you fill out paperwork and lose it while you sink slowly into the blue depths of oblivion.  Months after your body has decomposed at the bottom of the ocean someone from the government will come along and toss a life preserver to the spot where you used to be.

If you're lucky, that is.

Epilogue:  I finally managed to speak with someone today who said everything is straightened out now, and that my friend will get their money after all.  How soon?  In 7 business days.

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Time stands still in the eye of a storm...

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Picture_1 The past exists only because we can't help remembering it.  Today we can't help remembering what happened two years ago along the Gulf Coast.  I was in the city when Katrina hit, and I remember it vividly.

People were in a panic.  Cars were loaded up and crammed on the highways and there was gridlock and it took forever to move a few miles.  I tried leaving, but gave up and came back to town.  Uptown it was eerie; the birds were all gone and so were the dogs and cats.  Some strange presence was moving in and taking over, and you could actually feel it.

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And why not let Colonel Sanders babysit your chickens?

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The Economist recently ran an article about the problems with getting compensation to homeowners who suffered damage from Katrina.  The article is subtitled How to stiff both Louisianans and the federal government. Here's the money quote:

"A typical private home-insurance policy covers wind damage, whereas flood insurance is provided only by the federal government. The feds, in the name of efficiency, allowed private insurers to settle both flood and wind claims after Katrina. But if you were an insurance company, and you had the choice of paying claims out of your own pocket or someone else's, which would you pick?"

The head of the National Flood Insurance Program says that the claims were paid properly.  Perhaps a congressional inquiry will take up the subject.  Until then, it's all just speculation.

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Global Local warming

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Istock_000002986938xsmall The Wall St. Journal had an article last week (not online) about the city's feverish demolition of blighted houses. This would be a good thing, except that the City is accidentally demolishing many houses that it shouldn't be. (See similar MSNBC story)  My friend Harold owns some property that he plans to renovate, but recently found out it's slated to be demolished.  Oops.

As we approach the two year mark of Katrina a lot of people are fed up with the widespread incompetence. The Road Home program was not only poorly administered, but also inadequately funded.  The District Attorney has been releasing criminals because his office can't find the witnesses, even though news reporters find them by simply going to their last known address. 

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Roof art in post-K New Orleans

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Fleur_de_lis_roof_2 My friend Harold Bosworth stayed in New Orleans during and after Katrina.  Never left his post, and his house was fine.  But, then a few months ago we got that freak tornado which tore through Uptown.  Boz's house got nailed.  But, as an engineer with a major love of New Orleans he decided to have his roof be something more than just shelter from the elements. 

His new roof makes me proud, and just in time for the opening of Saints training camp!

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Farewell Dan!

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Dan Baum, writer of the New Orleans Journal, has departed New Orleans.  He came to live here last January and to write about post-Katrina life.  I've found his daily insights to be quite reassuring, and I'm really sad to see him leave. His compassionate farewell is a poignant account of what's unique and special about this city.  Still, to me, his post from April 16th about Hubig's Pies is the best answer to those perennial questions: How will New Orleans recover?  Why is this city worth saving? 

Read about the pies, thoughtfully and with complete enjoyment.  And be sure to allow yourself an extra moment to savor the last line.

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Returning home

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Mom_meMy mom's birthday is today, and she would have been 73 if she were still alive.  She's still alive, but just not in a way that we know how to describe very well.

My dad met my mom when he went to Panama after World War II.  They moved to New Orleans in 1954.  My parents visited Panama when I was about 9 months old and had a great time.  But from there things slid into a bad state. After my brother was born in 1963 they got divorced and began a big custody battle.  My mom came apart emotionally, and for years she refused to visit Panama.

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The buck stops over there

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If you're interested in local government you should read C.B. Forgotson's weblog.  I especially like this post about Why Nothing Gets Done in New Orleans.  This is a good example of why Nagin's approval rating has dropped to 33%.  Frankly, 33% seems kind of high because everyone I've talked to thinks he's doing an absolutely deplorable job.  Where are the 33% who think he's doing okay?  Someone needs to check on them and make sure that they take their medication.

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Camellia Grill reopens in New Orleans

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Camellia_grillMy last visit to the Camellia Grill was on my daughter Bridget's 16th birthday.  Marvin waited on us and made a big deal about everything, taking special care to offer Bridget some words of wisdom. When we left he gave us the trademark knuckle tap and said "word."  That was 10 days before Katrina hit, almost 2 years ago.  The Camellia Grill was not seriously damaged by the hurricane, but the former owners didn't bother to reopen and no one could understand why.  About a year ago people started leaving little love notes to their old friends at the Grill.  I wrote a blog post about the melancholy feeling that induced.

A few months ago some new owners took over and announced a reopening. The outside was obviously not going to change, but what about the inside?  Would they keep the seats in the corners where people waited to move to the counter?  Would the pie boxes with angled mirrors survive renovations? And, most importantly, would people like Marvin continue to work behind the counters? 

The Camellia Grill officially reopened on Friday, but it was a special event not open to the general public.  Today I went to the Grill with Becky and Charlotte.  We had to wait in line, which was fine.  Some out-of-towners behind us became impatient and started grumbling about going to McDonalds instead.  Obviously they didn't appreciate the significance of the Camellia Grill. No one bothered to enlighten them and they left.  Which was also fine.

The line moved quickly, and soon we were allowed inside where we could once again feel the heartbeat of this unique New Orleans landmark. 

To my great joy, everything looked the same. The walls are still pink, the floors are still beaten, and the Mickey Mouse clock on the wall is still covered with 40+ years of kitchen soot (it also still fails to display anything remotely close to the correct time).  Marvin is back in his section of the counter, laughing and jabbering incessantly, and handing out knuckle taps to the comers and goers.  My chili cheese omelet with fries was absolutely perfect.  Not because it was cooked to perfection, but because it was served in a timeless corner of paradise. 

There are new love notes on the front window of the Grill, and I studied them all carefully.  They each tell an important story, but Mike G says it best.  For those of you stuck out of town here is some video footage to tide you over:

Update (8.24.2007): Sad news today: Longtime waiter and legend of the Grill, Harry Tervalon, passed away.
   

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New Orleans: always at the crossroad

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Lucky_dog In the weeks after August 29, 2005 there was this silly notion that we could emerge from epic disaster as an economically vibrant city.  This is a recurrent dream, and a silly one.  Not because we can't achieve fortune, but because we flat out don't want to. In 1895, Grace King tried to explain this disappointing lack of ambition:

Our city brought her entire character from France, her qualities...and her defects. It is extremely doubtful if she will ever be rich, as riches are counted in the New  World, this transplanted Parisian city.  So many efforts have been made to make her rich!  In vain!  She does not respond to the process.  It seems to bore her.  She is too impatient, too indiscreet, too frank with her tongue, too free with her hand, and —this is confidential talk in New Orleans— the millionaire is an impossible type to her.  She has certainly been admonished enough by political economists: "Any one," they say, "who can forego a certain amount of pleasure can become rich."  She retorts (retorts are quicker with her than reasons): "And any one who can forego a certain amount of riches can have pleasure."

Ah New Orleans, a perennial museum of wobbling decay.  While other cities proudly herald their light-rail systems, we're content with rumbling Street Cars and Lucky Dog carts.  If you want to go somewhere important then by all means take the train, but to find that exotic corner in the Universe you'll have to travel by imagination.  And you'll probably pass through New Orleans on your way.

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