Words of Wisdom

From a post at New Orleans Slate:

We here in New Orleans watched the NASA shots of Sandy headed your way. She was huge, well organized, aimed at you, and we knew how that felt. She was perfect, as Katrina was, actually beautiful when viewed from the safety of a distant satellite lens. We saw the targets on your backs and understood, possibly as no other group of people can.

Initially, there was some bitter grousing about our having had to defend our City's right to exist and be rebuilt, something you might not have to do. We weathered the nasty comments about our being idiots living below sea level and even nastier comments about tax payer money being wasted on morons and ingrates and freeloaders. These comments were ubiquitous after Katrina, but we wouldn't wish what you're dealing with on anyone because we've been there.

We endured extreme heat, while you folks have to deal with unbelievable cold, as the power went out and stayed out. We are also a city in which some people don't have cars, so we understand the New Yorkers who are utterly stranded as the subway tunnels have turned into something better navigated by gondolas than train cars. We know as we see aerial views of Asbury Park, Seaside Heights, Atlantic City, and all the coastal towns that what we're seeing in no way shows us the length and breadth and depth of the devastation  We know you aren't overstating it when you say it looks like a war zone. We understand the loss of everything you own. We know the tears you'll shed as your kids' yearbooks and baby pictures are gone forever. We understand your toughness, your determination to rebuild, your compassion for your neighbors, and your statements about your family being fine and your losses were "only stuff."

We get it.

Sandy

Now that Hurricane Sandy is heading for New Jersey, how soon before we begin to hear any of the following:

1.  Why would they build a city in such a dangerous place?

2.  Why would anyone who lives in such a place not take the personal responsibility to own a car in case they need to evacuate?

3.  Doesn't this present New York City with a "silver lining"? A "blank slate" upon which to re-imagine itself?

4.  Why should a cab driver in Detroit care about rebuilding a city in a flood zone?

Isaac via FB

Thank you, Facebook, for making this hurricane a much more enjoyable experience, since I was able to communicate with friends and family the entire time, even when we were without power for almost a week. Obviously, I didn't blog during that time, so here's an FB account of how I spent my hurrication.

(And true confession time: I am an extremely sarcastic person--not in a mean way--just in a dry humor sort of way. It's an inherited trait and/or survival skill I got from my father. And besides, w hat else is there to do while waiting for a hurricane/riding out a hurricane than exercise your somewhat odd sense of humor online? 

August 25
If I were a meteorologist, I would call it the CONE OF DOOM just to make things more fun.

August 26
Shit. I guess I'm buying batteries and beer today.

I just heard that Jim Cantore is headed this way. Y'all know that means we're all going to die, right?

Peace and Isaac

Mostly, my anger from Katrina is gone. Mostly, I'm over it. I still get overwhelmed with sadness sometimes, but, as Kenny and I discussed this evening, it's not sadness for my own personal losses anymore. Am I still going to be sad sometimes about having no tangible record of my life before age 35? Sure. But mostly, when I get sad about Katrina, it's a sense of melancholy, an overwhelming feeling of sadness for what the people of this area went through--not what I personally went through. And sometimes, the heartache and anger of what everyone here had to suffer, of how people died, and of how some people never recovered, is enough to make me want to curl up into a ball and sob. But for the most part, I'm okay.

All of my friends and family members in other parts of the country have been heartbroken on our behalf that we had to deal with Isaac on the anniversary of Katrina. But to be quite honest, I couldn't think of a more fitting way to spend that day. I didn't have to watch the national news coverage of, what I'm sure, was a "devastating blow for the Gulf Coast," because I didn't have any power to watch said coverage.  From what I've heard, it was quite the heart-wrencher. I may have felt bad for us, too.

Questions You Have to Get Used to When You Live in a Hurricane Zone

Why don't you just sell your house and move?

Did your house flood?

So, it really wasn't anything more than a little rain?

Why do you live there?

Don't you want to move here?

Jim Cantore seems concerned. Are you?

I'm looking at the radar on the Weather Channel right now. Are you sure you're okay?

This is what it looked like. For 30 hours. That weird blowing sound would be the 75 mph gusts. All in all, to be quite honest, not a big deal, now that I'm a hurricane veteran. But DO NOT ride it out without a generator. That part really sucked.

Irene

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....

Good Riddance, Gustav

God, am I glad these past couple of weeks are over and that, thanks to Ike's change of heart, we don't have to do it all over again this week.

Our evacu-cation to Atlanta was more evacuation than vacation--Mom and I were too stressed out the first few days to do much other than get increasingly irritated at the coverage provided by the idiots on CNN, followed by mad dashes to the computer to watch live video from WDSU and Fox8 to find out what was really going on.

Watching, Waiting, Hoping

Angry, sad, scared. Not much more to say than that.

08.29.05

Created by WetBank Guy, one of the great NOLA bloggers. A beautiful tribute on the eve of this anniversary.

We are not all poor. We are not all "sitting around waiting for a handout." We are not all stupid for living here. But even if we were, we are still people. We are still Americans. We are your family members, your co-workers, your friends. And we still deserve dignity and respect, compassion and love.

On the Night Before My Evacu-cation

Onward to the ATL tomorrow. Spent the evening packing up clothes for me and clothes and toys for E, as well as making a list of things for K to pack up later on in the weekend if things look bad. After packing only 3 pairs of shorts and some t-shirts when leaving for Katrina, which didn't come in real handy 3+ months later in winter in Atlanta, I had to restrain myself from throwing everything I own into my suitcase. Luckily, I really don't love most of my clothes that much. As those of you who know me will agree, high fashion isn't nearly as important to me as comfy.

Even though they're still predicting that Gustav will hit us, I don't really believe it yet. Yes, I went around the house and looked every room up and down, trying to decide what things I would really, really miss if they were gone--needless to say, the list is relatively small, as we've only had three years to re-accumulate things.

Premature Evacuation

As luck would have it, I have a trip to Atlanta planned for the weekend to see my sister. Currently, my mom, E and I are planning to drive to ATL on Friday and come back home on Tuesday. I guess we'll have to wait and see whether driving back to the Gulf Coast will be possible come Tuesday, but at least perhaps we'll beat the evacuation rush out of town if Gustav continues heading this way.
I know, I know, we're still at least five days out from landfall, but I think Gustav has all of us feeling a bit jittery. It didn't occur to me until last night, when talking with my friend Curtis about how unsettled this has made me feel, that this is the first time we've even had to discuss evacuating ahead of a storm since Katrina.

Fay, Fay, Go Away

I am NOT going to worry about the two tracks that show Fay cruising over the Gulf before she makes landfall in Louisiana, with New Orleans in her northeastern quadrant. Nothing to see here, Fay, move along. And I'm sorry for making fun of your name, if that makes you feel any better. Fay is really a lovely name. God, how I hate the cone of uncertainty.

Bob & Carol & Tomas & Alicia

In my next life, I think I'd like to be the one that gets to choose the names of hurricanes. Does anyone else out there think that some of the names are ridiculous? I mean, come on--Fay? Paloma? And what about Dolly? It seems as if that name was chosen solely so that newspapers could run with a "Hello, Dolly" headline. I remember back in the late 70's (yes, sadly, I'm old enough) when someone at the National Hurricane Center decided it might be sexist to designate only female names, so now we have some masculine ones thrown into the mix. It seems that they also decided to spice it up a bit with some monikers with an international flair, thus Humberto, Henri, Georges, and Eduoard.

I, for one, will be anxiously awaiting the arrival of Hurricane Nana later on this year. Perhaps she can bake homemade cookies for everyone in her path and spawn lace doilies instead of tornadoes. At the time, I thought Katrina was a stupid name. I'm now considering myself lucky that we haven't had to spend the past three years talking about all of the destruction that Nana wrought.

If Nana threatens us, I'll be seriously irritated. If we get hit by another storm, I at least want it to be one with a more intimidating name--Hurricane Otto or Igor, perhaps.