Dangermond.org

I was going to title this entry Bringing New Orleans back but we’re not bringing it back, we’re trying to make it better. There is a bike path going from the lakefront to the bayou and now they are attempting to install another biking corridor from Carrolton to the French Quarter through what is called Lafitte Corridor. This is right in back of the old Brake Tag station and basically you could ride your bike on a lovely bike path unencumbered by traffic to the Quarter. How great is that.

All you ex-pats looking for a way to help NOLA as we go forward – first and foremost, come home and visit and spend your money on tourism – every little bit helps! Next, it is well worth any of your hard earned bucks to donate as little as $10 to this worthy cause.

In a very interesting observation, with T here to calm me, I tend to focus much better on the work at hand. Instead of trying to accomplish the impossible, I go about things more realistically and get deeper into what I am doing.

But you know what – TGIF – I’m ready to focus on F U N.

I walked Loca early this morning because I had to be at my desk earlier than usual. We went to the post office down the street at the end of the bayou – recall the pictures from the storm – this is where the red helicopter went down, where the people were waiting on a spit of high ground for days, where dogs and people wrote signs RESCUE ME on top of the American Can? Yes, that same spot, three years later, Loca and I were walking to the mailbox and at the last house on the bayou, just as the sun was rising, a rooster was crowing. Dawn of another day.

Last night, we took Loca out for an evening stroll and looked for a place to have a draft beer. Since the storm Liuzza’s by the Track has not had draft – the machine hasn’t worked. Three years, you’d think they’d find a way to fix it – we sure miss those icy schooners of Abita. We ended up going to Pal’s – and I must admit I was a little apprehensive as I have boycotted Pal’s since the episode last year when Nia was senselessly murdered there by a deranged migrant worker.

I felt at the time that too many of these “isolated” incidents were happening there because of the owner’s neglect for security, that may have not be needed pre-Katrina, but in the aftermath of the storm, when something harsh and raw and violent had taken hold of some people, attracting miscreants and killers to our chaos, we all needed protection. Nia certainly needed it that night.

So into Pal’s I went, with the trepidation that had colored the last year every time I heard anyone even mention the place. And there at the end of the bar was one of my yoga instructors, and next to us was one of T’s colleagues, and I took a big deep breath and reflected back to my reaction last year – I wanted Pal’s to close down. My friends thought I was nuts. But I was outraged at Nia’s death and outraged that the young, hip, pretty bartenders felt unsafe at night, and outraged that this would happen in our neighborhood, down the street from me, in my city, after all we had been through.

It was good to go in there and break the yoke of past and embrace moving on. Pal’s is really a great hood hangout and we’re actually quite lucky to have a place like it in our neighborhood. They don’t have draft either, btw.

The news here says:

The new report, “A Long Way Home: The State of Housing Recovery in Louisiana 2008,” shows that while some progress has been made during the past year, thousands of residents who want to return home are facing a critical rental housing shortage, inadequate rebuilding grants and a recovery plagued by red tape and ever-changing rules.

Yesterday, President Bush visited historic Jackson Barracks in New Orleans to tout the progress of the recovery. Bush says New Orleans is on its way back – on Wednesday he said that “hope is coming back” to New Orleans with the help of $126 billion in disaster aid poured into the city.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha – as if he knows anything about this city, our hope, the recovery.

We are getting bombarded here in the U.S. by images and text on aggressive Russia storming into Georgia. Condoleezza has issued warnings left and right that we don’t invade countries with elected officials.

On the phone with European colleagues, we were talking about how negative the press is here in the US about Russia but that over there they see the events differently.

Later, with an expert on the subject, I learned the heart of the matter – this aggression by Russia was instead a self-defense action after Georgia initiated military action unprovoked. Here the news writes of almost cold war activities. Reality is that Georgia was trying to take control of Southern Ossetia after getting reprimanded by Condoleezza who told them they would not get in NATO if they didn’t settle their border issues.

Apparently, when Georgia entered the Soviet Union in 1917, Lenin gave Georgia three autonomous Republics, Southern Ossetia being one, but up until now no one has been taking care of this area. Most of the citizens are Russian, not Georgian. President Saakashvil responded to Condoleezza’s reprimand by saying, “We’re ready to talk.” And within three hours, instead of talking, he rolled tanks into the region pinning Russian peacekeeping soldiers back up against the wall causing Russia to respond. Falls in the category of boys will be boys.

The greater mystery here is why anyone would believe the news – read the news.

More food for thought in this arena is while we are reading the news, News Corp and Murdoch are waging their own war on our psyches – Murdoch is entering television markets all across India, Europe, Asia, and the US where they will be controlling the news across a thousand million air waves – now that is frightening.

We were talking this morning on our walk about how some people live for drama. And if they don’t encounter it naturally, they foment it. It reminds me of an interview with Wallace Stegner and Terry Gross that I heard many years ago that kind of put me off Stegner. He was saying he remained in a tumultuous relationship for material to write about. Bizarre.

Throughout my life, I’ve heard people say that they loved working for the Namers (my family) or being around us because there was always something going on – some drama. I always thought this was just normal life.

I don’t remember anyone “creating” drama when I was growing up, but I certainly was never bored.

Home is definitely where the heart is and having my heart in one city, one house, one person has made this LaLa a home.

A source of mine from another time was in town and we met for a drink at my new favorite bar (820 Rampart) – one of the thoughts I took away from this chance face to face meeting is how important it is to be passionate about your job. The source had entered a new field and to build passion, he became a student all over again. I remembered when I first started speaking with him, I was a fish out of water in a new industry, but through him and others I was able to learn and let their passion spill over to me.

A colleague of mine said the other day, “I’d rather manage passion, then try to instill it.” I so agree with that statement.

By analogy, a friend asked me one time, if you could meet someone and not have sparks, but pursue romance anyway in the hopes that sparks would come. I wholeheartedly disagreed with him at the time much to his chagrin.

Yesterday, when I picked T up at the airport – I knew I loved her but when I kissed her hello I felt the earth move under my feet – as she casually said later, “chemistry is everything, isn’t it?”

Indeed.

And the fish aren’t the only ones jumping for joy here today!