Narlins

I've been hearing quite a bit about New Orleans since we've just passed the two year anniversary of Katrina's devastation. A story on NPR, a visit by Good Morning America, the obligatory helicopter flyover showing rows of trailers, flat concrete pads where houses used to be and of course, archive footage of people holding "help us" signs.

These are all intended to evoke sympathy and compassion and they certainly do. We feel bad for those elementary school students who are studying in trailers. We feel bad for those people whose homes were flooded so badly that they are uninhabitable. We certainly feel the human compassion for those who lost loved ones in that mess.

Many of these stories are focused on the failures of FEMA, Bush, government in general. Some of them are about why we should rebuild New Orleans. Some of them are just human interest... exploiting the pain and emotion of those who've lost and suffered in the aftermath of the storm.

I've heard that we, the US taxpayers have poured over $100 billion in the state of Louisiana over those past two years. New Orleans is still years and years away from being completely rebuilt and it's one more hurricane from the Dark Ages. I'm reminded of the scene in Monty Python's Holy Grail where the King of Swamp Castle and father of a reluctant groom is bragging about his own persistence to his pale, pasty, wimpy son. Below is the dialog from that wonderful scene.

[the King gestures to the window]
King of Swamp Castle: One day, lad, all this will be yours.
Prince Herbert: What, the curtains?
King of Swamp Castle: No, not the curtains, lad, all that you can see stretched out over the valleys and the hills! That'll be your kingdom, lad.
King of Swamp Castle: When I first came here, this was all swamp. Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on a swamp, but I built it all the same, just to show them. It sank into the swamp. So I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. But the fourth one stayed up. And that's what you're going to get, Lad, the strongest castle in all of England.

The rationale I hear most for rebuilding New Orleans is no more logical or meaningful than this ridiculous king building a castle in a swamp. New Orleans is in a dangerous location. That's not new and it really doesn't have anything to do with FEMA. Until we figure out how to control the weather New Orleans is in danger.

If you pitch your tent on the train track you should reasonably expect to be smashed by the train. If you pitch your tent on the train track and your tent gets smashed by the train and I buy you a new tent... don't pitch it on the train track again. That's just stupid.

Would you justify pitching your tent on the train tracks the second time by saying, "The tent was so lovely before it got smashed" or "I really can't imagine a tent that's not pitched on the train tracks" or "We cannot live without the unique culture of the tent on the train tracks"? That's just stupid.

If you want to build a castle on a swamp, pay for it yourself.

Like Riding a Bike?

Well, I'm "picking up the pen" after a lengthy hiatus and I'm hopeful that I'll find some viable, creative spark still brightly burning in the shallow bowl that is my brain.

I've found that I missed this outlet. I've got plenty of work to do, even now on a Saturday, a substantial portion of the garage is occupied by junk, my '66 Scout languishes outside, the divine Mrs. L and I are going to buy a faucet for the kitchen (which I will have to install) and my storage shed needs, to borrow a phrase from the computing world, to be defragged. I guess I've got a writing itch and policy statements and business email aren't scratching it.

So, over the next week or two I'll be trying to find ways to sneak in a little blogging between the job, the family, the housework, the start of a new school year, my extensive social calendar, appointments with my hairdresser and the upcoming hunting seasons.