Im trying to keep things up-tempo here at Casa de Maistros, but this time of year, my God it is tough. I confess that summers in New Orleans are not my favorite thing.
Heres the deal. Today is the first day of hurricane season and its like some invisible demon has shot a starter pistol off into dogbreath blue sky signaling the Olympic Games of Organized Neurosis to hereby officially begin. Its a stressful time of year, for sure.
Back before the big storm, hurricane season could be nerve-racking at times but there was a kind of camaraderie about it, an almost jovial good sportsmanship associated with that universal fear of the so-called big one, a certain comfort in the comfortable uncertainty of how it might play out. We were only guessing then, and the guessing felt like a game.
Now its different. Weve all seen how this shit plays out for ourselves, up close and personal. Now we know how very fucked up things can get around here. Theres not a whole lot left to guess about.
Ive noticed that the biggest difference between now and then is not the weather, but our collective state of mind. Remember back in the day, when Ivan or Georges or Isabelle or whatever one-eyed shitfuck had to crawl so far up the radar that it was breathing down our necks before we even got the tiniest bit antsy about it? That was really not a bad way to go. Nowadays, everyone shifts way down low into mental meltdown mode as soon as the tiniest swirling bit of goo forms off the coast of Africa. Its really ridiculous, but we all watch this shit like hawks now, as if such obsession can possibly do anyone any good at all.
The truth is simple enough. All we really need to do is decide whether well be staying or going if the unthinkable happens again, and how well act out that decision if and when its go-time. I know its very difficult to be methodical and rational about these things considering all thats happened. But if were going to keep living here, weve got to start integrating these possibilities into our psyche in smoother fashion and stop taking out our frustrations on each other. And we have to do this even when were feeling the heat and the fear and the anger of bad memories far too recent to dismiss gracefully or easily or, really, at all.
Im not preaching here, Im pleading. Try. Just try. Lets reject the temptation of the group nervous breakdown. We cant go on acting as if were all just back from Vietnam, expecting Charlie might jump out of the bushes at any point between June and November 1st. We New Orleanians are world renowned for our nutty behavior, and its an endearing quality on most days, but when the collective dementia translates into 7 parts crime wave and 3 parts general heartlessness towards one another, the nutty factor loses its classic charm.
And, I know; the mosquitoes, the termite swarms and this devilfucked black gnat epidemic are not helping morale much. I know. Ive gotten to the point where the bugs have me so twisted that Im collecting the little fuckers like trophies on tape strips and trap jars. Its just how I deal. Makes me feel like Im making a dent. A dent on what, Im not exactly sure.
Lets make a summertime resolution to get a grip. Really, we all have to learn to just kick it like we used to.
Do like this: Put together your little riding-it-out-like-a-crazed-motherfucker survival kit, or your getting-the-hell-out-of-dodge-like-a-sane-motherfucker escape kit, then tuck it away for that rainiest of days and forget about it till you need it. Fire up the barbecue or berl up the crawfish, reacquaint yourself with your fellow humans in a good way and try to remember that were all in the same leaky boat and also remember that the day may come when that cranky-ass neighbor whos name you cant quite recall might turn out to be your best friend on this earth. Brush up on your hurricane humor. Remember how we used to crack each other up before a big storm, making light of a bad situation? That was healthy. As long as were prepared to deal with it realistically, it is very healthy to laugh. So yuck it up, bond with your fellow inmates, and strike up the motherfucking band. This is New Orleans, goddamnit, and we all have a lot to be proud of here. Weve come a long way down this rough road of making things right again, and the government promise-breakers be they city, state or federal have had very little to do with that. This city has been regenerated one roof at a time. Its you who have accomplished this. And your neighbor. So treat each other right. Every one of us who came back and swung a hammer in trembling fists is a fucking national hero. Know that. And dont forget it. We might have been forgotten by most of America, but we absolutely embody the American can-do spirit. So be proud because youre a fool if you arent.
You know, if weve learned anything from the past its that, at the end of the day, we can only truly depend on each other. And thats just fine because its enough, and it works. So lets all take a deep breath of something good, wash it down with a stiff drink of something better, put on our goofy-ass devil-may-care Southern grins, and love thy neighbor like its an idea that really means something. Because goddamn if it doesnt.
Experience is a tricky thing. I once knew a guy who had played guitar for twenty years but just never got any good at it. I asked a friend, Has this guy really been playing twenty years? And the answer was, Well, its more like hes been playing for one year, but twenty times.
Lets not let the benefit of our experience be erased every year, only to start from scratch with tempers flaring and guns blazing in a blind war against whoever or whatever is handy. Lets build on what weve learned, every year and every day, lets toughen our skins and sharpen our wits but also lets soften our hearts towards each other. Because if we dont reach out to our neighbors, if we dont prepare to help and be helped by each other, then well just wind up in that damn Superdome again, waiting for another Godot who will not fucking come till its all too late, another demoralizing spectacle of pity and ridicule for the world to gawk at and that, my friends, is not us. And it never has been.
So here we are again, about to run through one of those mind numbing psychological gauntlets, another Orleans Parish pressure cooker, and make no mistake; stand or fall, its all on us, baby. And just like always, well either rise to the challenge or be diminished with the tide. We really cant do both.
