Only one topic this weekend…
ByYou know, it should have been a phenomenal weekend. Jazzfest. Visitors. Nagin went on the radio to tell us- to “kiss my chocolate buttocks” as he locks the door behind him. Words fail. And yet, all things being equal, it’s just so very HIM. Despite being childish and petty (as per usual) it’s kind of funny, because it reminds us of why we’re so thrilled to have a new Mayor sworn in on Monday!
But no. Everyone is walking around shell shocked in a way that’s reminiscent of Katrina. It’s the same feeling of quasi-helplessness in the face of a manmade screwup. The same wondering how bad the butcher’s bill is going to be when it comes due.
And the same thinking about the lovely things being damaged…possibly irreparably, and the memories you’d made there.
Here’s one of mine.
Ali was only 10 when we took this trip to Grand Isle, which is at the very tip of Louisiana hanging out into the tainted Gulf of Mexico. It was a trip of firsts- her first kite, her first fishing pole, and of course, her first (and to my knowledge only) fish.
The city smelled of oil night before last; now the wind’s blowing in the opposite direction and we’re not being hit with it in town…but of course Grand Isle is a lot closer to the problem and I can’t help but wonder what they’re smelling tonight.
If you’re anywhere in the area and can get involved, CNN has a list of organizations looking for volunteers here.
