HumidCity

i’ve been living in a dreamworld since fema took my trailer away… i’ve not wanted to go to sleep in fear that the bad times would start again… my house is now closer to a home … my life is again worth living

i’ve committed myself to a benefit project that has led me to a higher place… locals ranging from susan cowsill and anders osborne to members/ former members of rebirth, cowboy mouth, dash rip rock, the iguanas, the subdudes, evangeline have all come out to play… i’ve even snagged lou reed and alice cooper sideman steve hunter to contribute an acoustic version of “just a closer walk with thee”   my phone rang with the distant sounds of fernando saunders (lou’s go to guy and ian hammer/ jeff beck’s bassman) calling from helsinki offering a hand, a voice, and a song.  michelle shocked and suzzy roche also want to help…  even woody guthrie’s son arlo and grandaughter annie may join in…

all seems right in my world…

DESPITE the crime, the potholes, the government, the stupidity…

DESPITE the war in georgia AND our potentially knee-to-the-groin jerk-of-a-reaction (believe it or not, someone actually asked bobby hebert if he thought that might affect our game against the falcons)

DESPITE hurricane season, floods, and chances of OBAMANATIONS or an unABEL mcCANE (WTF?)

the music from the streets… the music from afar

as pete seeger once commented….”ah, the power of song”

well the ducks are gone… the pothole is now sequestered off like a crime scene with S&WB barrels warning all onlookers that there’s nothing to see here…

my pothole is going to go away! finally… after 2 1/2 years of gestation and expansion and still birth

you see… a few nights ago one of new orleans’ finest got stuck in lake pothole with his cruisers nose buried headfirst in the sludge of city planning… two towtruckers and all the kings horse and all the kings men later (as well as as some y’at tinged ungrammatical cussing and paperwork, too). me thinks the city may finally “fill” my hole in a new , non-amorous way… what no flowers?

afterall the fema trailer will soon be history… why not end with a smooth street riding into the sunset?

there was no pot in my hole… otherwise, i would have smoked it!

BLOG THIS!

p.h. fred

phfred@mcnawlins.com

well i’m almost completely home… no working bathroom doors… still a padlock as a lock to my home… BTW the doors don’t fit…

welcome to the REconstruction…. or should i say CARPET BAG? lack of construction? deconstruction.

my so-called contractor spent six months building a porch while i rotted in the formaldahyde laden fema trailer… three weeks spent on a door, a single f$#@~n’ door…. another several weeks on a loft (which six months later is the wrong size for a mattress and lacks his custom or should i say costume built ladder)

when it came to door hanging none, i point out that none of the door openings 

a) fit the surviving cypress doors that were salvaged (originally from our friendly neighborhood project demolition pre-k 1999)

b) fit standard doors

IN FACT a two door closet has two different sized openings

WTF?

today… as a blessing or a curse he quit as my first post-katrina guest arrives… no working bathroom doors… a padlock on my front door and a tripod for a tub…i think i might let her stay in the fema trailer instead

who the f@#* builds the porch first? well, it is a damn good porch! maybe i should just buy a hammock!

BLOG THIS!

phfred@mcnawlins.com

well as i finally “un”settle back into my house, the two and five sixths years of post k goobly goo comes to a a not-so screeching halt.  or does it? the emotional, physical, and mental scars won’t heal.  the burning in my lungs and dull nightmares continue.  the unnatural tingling in certain extremities continues relentlessly. neither the powers that be or those that won’t be can fix that. in fact, it’s kinda hard to call it post-traumatic since the trauma isn’t over as we walk amidst the shadows day by day.  the floods of 08 are just a reminder that mother nature can be a bad mother - hush your mouth… i’m just talkin about getting the shaft(?). 

the “everything’s slow in the south” mentality of new orleans has turned to a comatose “nothing’s moving  or getting done” land of shades reminiscent of aeneas’ visit down below in virgil’s classic epic

the slow life. the slow food. the not-so-fast food nation called McNawlins… do you want levees with that? how ’bout a not-so-happy meal? afterall, you deserve a breech today! well, do we really? i don’t think so!

meanwhile… gas and employment go up WHILE politicians give themselves outrageous raises for a job not yet well or done.

can i see the manager? oh, yeah… mr. jindal… he’s decided to do nothing… a lame duck in less than six months.  maybe he should be v-p.  then again, if he did, he might shoot me in the face… then again his refusal to take a stand was sort of a knife in the back. 

another game of formaldehyde and seek!

p.h. fred

www.mcnawlins.com

?

THIS IS A SERIOUS BLOG. I WILL BREAK FROM MY AFOREMENTIONED ACERBIC E.E. CUMMINGS LEANINGS AND ATTEMPT TO FOLLOW SOME SEMBLANCE OF GRAMMATICAL POSTURING.

I just got a rejection letter from Tulane University’s Upward Bound Program. 

It reads:

> Good Morning,
> We have had an opportunity to review all applicant
> materials,credentials, education, and levels of professional
> expertise in secondary education over the past four days.
> We are very impressed with the high level of academic and
> professional experience you have to offer our students. As a
> results oriented program, we at this time however we have identified
> the candidates who’s experiences and expertise in high school college
> preparatory instruction best meet the needs of the students in our program.
> Thank you again for your interest and we wish you the best in your
> search to make a difference this summer.

My response:

Thanks for your time and consideration. By the
way, one of the main problems on the ACT is pronoun
use. “Who’s experiences” should be “whose
experiences.” Touche?

p.h. fred

“getting best results on test prep for over a decade”

====================================

AN AFTERTHOUGHT:
Perhaps I should have mentioned the run-on sentences, the lack of both commas and semicolons, and the misplaced modifiers (my expertise in the past four days?). Then again, perhaps I didn’t get the job because I was (and still am) an overqualified ***** **** applying for a job in a federally funded program. Call me paranoid? Welcome to McNawlins… can I take your order please?

NOW BLOG THIS!

p.h. fred (phfred@notthat.com)