To: "pigdog@skunk.pigdog.org" <pigdog@skunk.pigdog.org>
From: "S. Dallas, Esq." <sdallasesq@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, 5 May 2006 18:28:27 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: [Pigdog] New Orleans
List-Id: The Pigdog Mailing List <pigdog.skunk.pigdog.org>
Reply-To: The Pigdog Mailing List <pigdog@skunk.pigdog.org>
Message-Id: <20060506012827.61773.qmail@web82408.mail.mud.yahoo.com>

So Uncle Dallas, Esq., invited us down to Festival
International de Louisiane in Lafayette last weekend. 
Good scene.  I caught a Japanese drum act right around
the corner from the stage where Los Badd Boyz del
Valle were tearing it up with their power accordion
style.  It didn't hurt my attitude one bit that my
uncle insisted on cramming food and wine down our
throats as though he intended to harvest our fattened
livers.

Being that close to New Orleans, we had to at least go
see what was left.  I think I've already eaten crow
over this once, but the damn Ritz still isn't open,
and it won't be until December!  The alternate
explanations I heard for this were 1) that, though
there was no serious flooding in that part of town,
the Ritz had important mechanicals below ground that
did not fare well, 2) that they don't think they can
get Ritz-level rates right now so they're taking their
time with renovations, or 3) that they're still
getting so much federal reimbursement for putting up
officials they don't need the likes of me.  I also
heard that the CIA blew up the Industrial Canal levee
to kill the black people.  Anyway, we were relegated
to the Crown Plaza.

Other than that minor inconvenience, the Quarter and
Magazine bear scarcely any scars of the storm.  The
overall service level is down, apparently due to a
severe manpower shortage, but the overworked waiters,
bartenders and shopkeepers we met were uniformly
thrilled to see us, so much so that they gave off a
faint scent of desperation.  I was momentarily
reminded by a clothing store saleswoman of Kathy Bates
in Misery.  But on the whole, the touristy areas are
nearly as pleasant as I've ever seen them (take that
as you may).  The 387 different profane elongations of
the FEMA acronym I saw on T shirts struck me as a sign
of healing.  I almost couldn't get to my table Tuesday
night because Laura Bush's earbud goons were filling
up every square inch of an already-too-crowded
restaurant.  Later I saw a topless chick riding a
mechanical bull.  Same old New Orleans.

So I was feeling pretty good about the future of New
Orleans when we decided to take a tour of the harder
hit areas.

Jeebus.  Dance Dancing.  Christ.

The Lakeview neighborhood, into which the 17th Street
Canal breach flowed, was almost too difficult to view.
 It's undeniably creepy in broad daylight.  Think of
the Last Man on Earth episode of the Twilight Zone
except that it's painfully obvious what happened to
all the people.  Nagin is saying that almost 200,000
residents are back.  He's campaigning.  The dirty
water line between 3 and 12 feet up on the exterior
walls of every structure was a constant reminder of
how bad it was.  House after house was a miserable
derelict with broken windows, missing roof sections,
and visible mildew emitting a smell that begged, not
just for the bulldozer, but maybe for some oily rags
and a match as well (arson investigations have
skyrocketed).  Of approximately 500 houses I saw in
one section, I estimate fewer than 25 showed any sign
that the owners intend to return (e.g. FEMA trailer,
interior demolition, or even boarded windows).  EPA
has assured property owners that the soil (on which
the water sat for up to 45 days) is safe.  Needless to
say, private lab testing is on every owner's
reconstruction budget.  The only thing I saw that
mitigated the sadness that seems to hang over the
whole area was the spraypainted codes on every house. 
No matter how badly botched the government response to
the storm was, hundreds of thousands of structures
were searched by people who cared what happened to the
residents, both human and animal.  Many of those
searchers were volunteers.  

That was my view of the nice neighborhood; they
wouldn't even let us drive into the Lower 9th Ward. 
I'm worried about New Orleans.  Go there and spend a
little money if you have the means.






S. Dallas, Esq.

Crushing Hopes and Dreams Since 1999




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