Celebrities are beginning a rolling fast to bring the troops home. Susan Sarandon, Willie Nelson, Rev Al Sharpton. I’m starting my rolling fast to end the madness of remodelling a house in post-Katrina times. The electrician used aluminum instead of copper wire. Kim, the second contractor, had sheetrockers who neglected to put in insulation before rocking the house. The deck in back is having to be pulled up because Juan didn’t use the correct board…
That’s what we all are down here in New Orleans – happy – blissfully fucking happy – we’re so happy we forgot to vote correctly, forgot to watchdog the levee board, forgot to buy flood insurance – we’re a happy happy lot down here. The fireworks from my window were sure pretty tonight – I had them in stereo – Boomtown to Downtown – happy is what it made me. Blissfully fucking happy.
What? Irresponsible? The rheumy eyes were tell-tale. I told her about J trying to kiss me. The long pause. “You know why the gardener is no longer here? … Oh, what is the word? I can’t think of it. It was D’s wedding and I had fractured both of my ankles and had taken a pain pill. He was in here working and I was lying down in there. I can remember what I was…
The yin and yang of yesterday is still resonating. My ATM card was lifted from under my nose at Kinko’s – the manager wanted to pay for my copies, then my coffee, then when all of that was refused she took me in her arms and hugged me. Fair enough. It worked. The social Xray in the making at Stafford Tile was flip – I responded by being a bitch. I tried to be super…