We are still here

Yes, it’s true; we haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. We have made a conscious decision to step up the pace and behave like grown ups. Honestly, it smarts a bit, but it’s probably for the best.

Sean has been working like a dawg! He is pretty much gigging and working carpentry jobs all the time. Mostly, he has been playing with the Panorama Jazz Band about three times weekly. Occasionally he plays with the ever popular and always classy AJ and Mark Monistare. As far as the carpentry goes, Grace Baptist has him busy renovating Brother Charlie’s house. This is a blessing. It is nice to work around people that he loves and respects with sweet reciprocity.

I also am finally working. I am the new marketing director of Weddings Noir magazine. It is a small bridal magazine targeted at a multi-cultural audience. I’ve got big plans for it. Hopefully it will be a tremendous success. Most of the time I get to work from home in my slippers, but occasionally I have to dress up and wear big girl shoes.

Ok, guess what! We totally bought a truck. Yes indeed, we are the owners of a 2002 Ford F150. It is so sweet and fancy, and best of all, it will get us all out of town next hurricane season. Yeah, we have been reduced to this kind of thinking.

We reached our breaking point of our fabulously boho hippie life when my alternator broke in the same week that Sean’s (2nd) transmission broke, along with his blinker and windshield wiper handle. I am a little bummed because I had hoped that our imminent fancy car purchase would be a small sensible economical car for ME! Alas, Sean’s truck broke more and first. Therefore, if we can have one good car, it needs to be a truck, and it needs to be capable of holding not only all our stuff, but our little dog family also. If that means we need a gas guzzling road hog, then so be it. I can wait for my mini cooper.

We miss and love all of you. As soon as I can locate some batteries in this town, I will take some pictures of all things fabulous and post them.

Happy New Year

Last night, Sean and I drove home from a New Year’s Eve party at Cass and Heather’s house in the Fouburg Marigny. We skipped the pilgrimage to the quarter, and went home. We took the long way home, driving through Bayou St. John and Mid City. The annual Orleans Ave. Bonfire was about to begin, but we drove on. Die-hard renegade firework handlers were working their magic under the cloak of fog. There was a moratorium on fireworks this year. It seems that the FEMA blue roofs are not only very flammable, but they actual melt, and drip molten plastic fire into the very homes they guard from exposure to natural elements.

As we left downtown, cars poured in towards the quarter. The parking situation was panicky. The mid city revelers were a little calmer, despite their decision to disregard one of the better temporary laws in the city. It seemed as though the pull of the down-towners was driven by an urge to flush 2005 five with as much synergy as they could possibly muster. The Orleans Ave. group appeared to be driven by a very familiar determination to not let their traditions be killed by Katrina.

None of us really want to give her anything else.

We finally hopped on I10 to head home. The highway was foggy and quiet. I rested my head on Sean’s chest and stared out his (side) rearview mirror. As I looked at the dark and hazy highway disappearing behind us, I considered 2005 and looked at the time. 11:50.

It has been decided by most, that 2005 was the absolutely worst year ever. I argue that the first half was pretty good. If the events of this year, both good and bad, were measured in quantity, I think the good would exceed the bad. Unfortunately, this year, it does seem appropriate to measure by weight. In that case, it might have been the worst year ever.

Sean and I parked behind our house at 11:56 and ran inside. We plopped down on the bed and gathered our dogs around us. We waited 4 minutes for the countdown, and gave each other a sleepy kiss to celebrate the new year. It was a good moment. I felt lucky.

Lucky to be in our home, alive, with our dogs, and our stuff. Lucky to be loved and to love. Lucky to have turned 29 this year, and finally graduated college. Lucky to have amazing friends and family.

This year I want to celebrate all of these things. I want to pour my attention into the things that I am so grateful to have.

Sean was asleep by 12:02, dreaming of a peaceful new year.

By the way, your Christmas cards and gifts have been sent. Sorry about the timing.

resolutions:

Resolution: 1.the state or quality of being resolute (resolute: firm or determined, unwavering) 2.a course of action determined or decided on 3.a formal statement of decision by a legislature 4.an explanation as of a problem solution 5.the fineness of detail that can be distinguished in an image


Last night someone told me of a New Year’s tradition she and her family had established about a decade ago. “Instead of drafting your own New Years resolution, write one down for all of your family members, and they will do the same for you!”

O.K., I thought, it sounds fun and could possibly be endearing. But, all I could imagine is a family sitting around opening envelopes and looking at one another with knitted brows and nervous tummies reading lists of what their loved ones think is wrong with them. “You want me to…” “…loose thirty pounds?”, “…stop snoring?”, “…be more assertive” “…go to confession more often?”, “…get a better job?” “…take karate?” “…wear green more often?”, “…be nicer?”

Clearly she and her family are much braver about criticism than I am.

I think that this year I will replace my big new years resolution with 365 daily resolutions. I don’t think that I can be absolutely firm or determined, or unwavering about 1 thing for an entire year. The small resolution plan seems to co-operate better with a fluctuating environment.

What ever your resolutions are, good luck with them, and enjoy all 365 days this year.

Good Luck

I don't know, but I've been told that each black-eyed pea eaten on New Years Day offers some indiscriminant amount of good luck forwarded towards your next year.

So, If you don't eat black eyed peas on Sunday, we will know who to blame for the next hurricane!

I will have a big fat pot of beans at my house on Jan 1st. All are welcome. You bring the beer.

Funny Hats by jacqui

 
 

Home for the holidays

 
 

I usually go somewhere for the holidays, Texas, Florida, Covington, North Carolina…whatever. This year, Sean and I were able to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas right here in New Orleans, which was the only thing on our wish list anyway. This is the second year in a row that I have celebrated Christmas with the Hilton’s family and friends. Admittedly, I am left feeling slightly melancholic about missing my families, but the Hilton Christmas is always, delightful, tasty, and full of goodness. I feel very special to be included in their holiday festivities.

The bummer about the holiday season is that we would need some serious Santa skills to be able to see everyone in a single Christmas. So, until we wise up and trade in my Toyota for a sled with magic flying reindeer, we must always choose and rotate family to visit. Leaving town on Christmas has its benefits, but every time I go away for the Christmas, I miss seeing my friends that come home.

This December we celebrated the steady stream of re-entrants from the whole hurricane thing as well as regular Christmas visitors from the north. Staying home this year allowed us to see: Jason from Chicago, Wess, Stephen, Rebecca, and Ed from NY, Patty and Elsa from Arizona (?), Jeff Finn from the sort of generic SF “bay area”, Ryan Finn from a sailboat, and Katie Finn from Panama, and of Course Daniel Bobeck …from heaven. We are lucky.

So I am concerned about this year for a lot of reasons. First there is the “is N.O. safe” situation, (which I have decided to believe that it is in fact safe, cuz it’s more fun than thinking it’s not). Second, we are trying to plan the funnest wedding ever on the smallest budget ever. I have decided not to reserve anything until hurricane season 2006 closes. Third, we have become vastly more popular this year, and everyone wants us to visit. This is indisputably cool, but we are feeling a little stretched. Here is the deal: My dad has asked us to visit in the spring, Debbie has asked us to visit in Feb., Mardi Gras is in late Feb., Caroline has asked us to visit circa Easter, Paul and Anto are getting married in Ireland in September (we are pretty devoted to going to witness this), and the Bioneers conference is in October. Even if we are fortunate enough to bypass another heart wrenching hurricane season…. how are we going to get it all done?

Ohmigod! I almost forgot! Rebecca Louise Gibson is engaged to be married! Congratulations Reba and John! That will require some traveling too, I am sure.

The reason I am posting this, is because I want you all to know, that we will try our best to see everyone….

We love you and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Home for the holidays

 
 

I've been fielding a lot of questions lately...so here it is

Last night, Jeff Finn came into town. When I saw him I gave him a big hug and crocodile tears quivered in my eyes. He is the first hello I have met that really meant good-bye, since I have returned. He has permanently relocated to the bay area, but he is from here. He has always seemed like a fixture here. Even though his mother tells me this is a good move for him, and I should encourage him, I can't help feeling devastated at the notion that he won't be here any more.

After work, he and I went out to Mimi's and sat in the cozy upstairs tapas bar sipping brandy and eating goat cheese croquetas (yum), exchanging stories of evacuation, and "what's it like now", then realized that it was almost CERFEW (yuck), and ran to The Saint, a crusty rock n roll bar that we used to frequent after work at the Rue.

We talked and noticed who was there, and who wasn't. The thing about this bar is there is never any surprise concerning who will be there. It is always the same lower garden district, vespa driving, hipsters that we worked with at the coffee shop, and Juan's Flying Burrito. A good friend came to hug us hello and talk to us.

Jeff noted that being back in town, made him feel like an ex-patriot.... running into old friends and acquaintances, asking what happened to them, how they are...etc. Everyone has a dramatic story of near escape, evacuation, living with people, or worse, not living with people, and reunion. Everyone except those who were not so fortunate. It becomes very difficult to think of these people, and yet totally unavoidable.

Jeff and I have a friend in Mississippi whose parents lost EVERYTHING. Every scrap of anything they had has been taken by the tidal surge. Jeff remarked at how horrible it was to see his father's house destroyed, but absolutely nauseating to see the barrenness of Mississippi. He said "N.O., forget about it, Mississippi is the real disaster.

Sometimes, I feel the same. But it's just different. Does that make any sense?

This bitter sweetness here that is created from the joy of homecoming and the extensive losses of our community and friends is actually very familiar. New Orleans has ALWAYS been bittersweet.

I love that our restaurants and musicians and traditions are returning. I hate that the bulk of our community is feeling unloved, and neglected in other cities. There was a headline last week that said "How can you have Mardi Gras if we aren't even there?" This was a quote from a disgruntled evacuee in Atlanta. This might seem silly to non-New Orleanians, but really! If there are no high school student, who will supply the marching bands and flag girls? That's the best part! No home = no families = no flag girls in sequins shaking their adorable rumps to a badass marching band, covering a hip-hop song with jazz overtones = no Mardi Gras worth a damn.

I don't think we have ever needed Mardi Gras so badly, as we do now. That is the manifestation of this city's tremendous creative energy. God bless those stranded in other parts of the world. The pull to come home for Mardi Gras is very strong.

The single most hurtful thing that pokes at me lately is the discussion about "we can't afford levees". What type of shit is that? We can afford a war, an enormous tax cut(which according to the NYT is 3X the cost of new levees), petroleum subsidies to serve SUV drivers, and probably insurance bail outs, but not levees? People are really scrutinizing our local government for it's inability to recover, but virtually nothing is worth doing until a protection system is put together.

What can be done without protection? Who will come home and rebuild, and develop, and invest, when our safety and equity is uninsurable? The only reason it is uninsurable is because congress has said so. Are we not American? Do we not send our tax dollars to Washington and our children to war? Do we not sacrifice our ecosystem for access to oil and natural gas? Have we not provided this country with beautiful music, seafood, art, and above all a playground for ivy league brats and square people that need to let loose and pollute our streets with daiquiri cups and vomit? Yes, we sit on the sidelines of Bourbon Street and clean up the mess as best we can in the morning. Yep. The people who live here do that. You’re welcome. New Orleans is the concubine of America and it is embarrassing that we have misunderstood this relationship for centuries. We have served this country and the very notion that the United States of America thinks we aren't worth protecting makes me want to defect, or sell our city to Castro. We are pretty angry here. Maybe it's just me.

There are so many problems here, but why don't they seem worth fixing? I am no political genius, but if we compare the cost of investing in New Orleans now vs. the cost of endless disaster relief, I will put my money on the preventative maintenance option.

I am sorry if I have alienated any of our loved ones with this diatribe, but I felt compelled to publish my thoughts on this.

 
 

New Kitty

Everyone, met Botsy. Botsy, meet everyone. The little booger won't stay still long enough for a good pic.