Six Years

I'm not sure I have anything left to say about Katrina that hasn't already been said.

When I turned on WWL radio this morning on my way to work, they were giving the results of one of their usual online polls and today's question was whether people felt they were better off since Katrina. I'm happy to say that about 65% of the respondents were saying they were better off, which, to me, seemed like a good way to start the day.

In all honesty, I'm better off. I'm happily married and have a six-year-old daughter who is my world. I have a great job and great friends (although I still really miss the ones who moved away). My house was a major fixer-upper pre-storm, and now, thanks to our flood insurance policy, we were able to re-do it the way we had always planned to do, just on a quicker timeline. We now have wood floors throughout, replacing the worn carpet that was here when we bought the house. We have really, really nice kitchen cabinets, a far cry from the crappy, lower end stock cabinets with particle board shelves that were here when we bought the place. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family members (and contents insurance), I have nicer furniture.

This anniversary has been blissfully silent. It's the first year that we haven't been absolutely inundated with anniversary coverage, which is a good thing. It's the first year that it's really felt as if enough time has passed to be able to truthfully say that I'm over it (mostly), that I'm ready to move on. And I think most people in this area feel the same way. We're all ready to move on. We're (mostly) tired of talking about it.



I guess I should have known this morning when I heard the CNN newscasters say that the Northeast had "dodged a bullet" that Irene wasn't over yet. That phrase, in my opinion, is the kiss of death. My heart is with the people in that part of the country.

And I forgive the friend of a friend in Boston who made some smartass comment on Facebook about how they'd all be fine because they weren't stupid enough to live below sea level....


This City

This city won’t wash away
This city won’t ever drown
Blood in the water and hell to pay
Sky tear open and pain rain down.


Conversations With A Six-Year-Old, Volume 1

This conversation took place at my office, during my own version of "take your daughter to work day."

Me: Okay, Emmeline, it's 1:00. You've done a great job of entertaining yourself while I worked, so let's go have some lunch.

E: Great, Mommy! Did you bring a lunchbox?

Me: Um, no--I thought we could go out to lunch. To a restaurant.

E: To a restaurant? What about your boss?

Me: What do you mean, what about my boss?

E: You mean, he just lets you leave? To go eat? And he doesn't get mad?

Me: Err, yes--he just lets me go eat lunch.

E: Without asking?

Me: Yes.

E: Wow! I would so be in trouble if I tried that at school!


PTSD and Joy

Because I'm a masochist, I watched a National Geographic Channel special on Katrina earlier this evening. Not really surprisingly, I started shaking incontrollably while watching it.

To make myself feel better, I just watched the youtube video of Jim Henderson calling Garrett Hartley's NFC championship field goal against the Vikings. And then I got goosebumps. It's goooooooooood. Pigs have flown. Hell has frozen over. The Saints are going to the Super Bowl.

Pleasure and pain. PTSD and joy. That pretty much sums up life in New Orleans, doesn't it?



Hallelujah is a Hebrew word which means "Glory to the Lord." The song explains that many kinds of Hallelujahs do exist. I say, all the perfect and broken Hallelujahs have an equal value. It's, as I say, a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way but with enthusiasm, with emotion.--Leonard Cohen

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah



I had MSNBC on tonight in the background (Hi, I'm Andy, and I'm a liberal) while I was unloading the dishwasher, making dinner for E, etc., and I eventually got to the point where I had to turn it off after about the fourth reference to Rick Perry and his ridiculous comments because it was just so. Damn. Depressing.

Really? This is what we're back to? Questioning Obama's patriotism? Sending out dog whistles that he's not like us and that we need a Commander in Chief that our military can be proud of? Dear Rick Perry: if you want to run against Obama, I think you've got just about all of the ammunition you need with "It's the economy, stupid," without having to drag in all of that tired old crap again about how our military is run by some socialist, un-American-type (black) guy.

First Grade


World's Shortest Poll

Caller: Good afternoon. I'm calling from Governor Bobby Jindal's re-election campaign. Do you plan to support our governor in his bid for re-election?

Me: Absolutely not.

Caller: Um, okay, then. Uh, er, goodbye.

I'm assuming I'm one of the few "no" votes she'd gotten.