Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?

Oct 7, 2005 by Loki

Some days are halfway decent, some days are horrible. Everything is wrong and spiralling out of control. We will survive, and rebuild the lives wrested from us. In the meantime there is little we can do. I realize now that normal is just a setting on a washing machine. I wish that it had been truly clear to me before. I wish I had gone out to enjoy my city more, for it will be very different no matter what happens from here on out.

I have always loved New York, and my time in exile here in Dobbs Ferry has been far more pleasant than I could have hoped. It’s odd, we’ve been thrown into a bizzarre blend of collegiate apartment and campsite. The people have been very nice, and its good to see Sean and Jo on a regular basis. Still, its not home. I cannot meet my friends for a drink after work because they are scattered to the four winds, some of them planning never to return (Gary and Rachel, we miss you terribly!). I cannot get New Orleans style coffee to save my life. Even the cats feel it as they wonder where their favorite toy (our spiral stairs) and “their,” furniture have gone. Jane sits in my lap as I type, a tremulous wee beastie still upset by days upon days in various cars. (Let me mention that Dr. Green at Sleepy Hollow Animal Hospital is my official new patron saint. He checked them all out and gave them a clean bill of health, and would not allow me to pay. He has also been working with human refugees and doing a bang up job from what I understand. I am forver in your debt, Doc, and you are always welcome in N.O.!)

Louis Armstrong said it far more eloquently than I ever could. One difference though, the one I love is with me here in Dobbs Ferry. Without her I would long ago have lost my grip on things. Instead think the ones I miss, because it is my friends I miss so terribly. :

Do you know what it means to miss new orleans
And miss it each night and day
I know I’m not wrong… this feeling’s gettin’ stronger
The longer, I stay away
Miss them moss covered vines…the tall sugar pines
Where mockin’ birds used to sing
And I’d like to see that lazy mississippi…hurryin’ into spring

The moonlight on the bayou…….a creole tune…. that fills the air
I dream… about magnolias in bloom……and I’m wishin’ I was there

Do you know what it means to miss new orleans
When that’s where you left your heart
And there’s one thing more…i miss the one I care for
More than I miss new orleans

(instrumental break)

The moonlight on the bayou…….a creole tune…. that fills the air
I dream… about magnolias in bloom……and I’m wishin’ I was there

Do you know what it means to miss new orleans
When that’s where you left your heart
And there’s one thing more…i miss the one I care for
More…..more than I miss…….new orleans

I want to go home. Unfortunately I cannot as yet do so. The sad state of things is that the following list, cribbed from an email I received, is frighteningly true. All good humor is rooted in pain, “Laugh clown, laugh.”

You know you’re from New Orleans when:

You have FEMA’s number on your speed dialer.

You have more than 300 C and D batteries in your kitchen drawer.

Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti Os.

You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.

When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe hallway.

Your SSN isn’t a secret, it’s written in Sharpie on your arms.

You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.

You are delighted to pay $3 for a gallon of regular unleaded.

The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone.

You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.

You own more than three large coolers.

You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.

You rationalize helping a friend board up by thinking “It’ll only take gallon of gas to get there and back”

You have 2-liter coke bottles and milk jugs filled with water in your freezer.

Three months ago you couldn’t hang a shower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight.

You catch a 13-pound redfish. In your driveway.

You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner’s insurance policy.

You consider a “vacation” to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi.

At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw.

You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.

There is a roll of tar paper in your garage.

You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather channel.

Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.

Ice is a valid topic of conversation.

Your “drive-thru” meal consists of MRE\’s and bottled water.

Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.

You spend more time on your roof then in your living room.

You\’ve been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.

A battery powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.

You don\’t worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.

Your child\’s first words are “hunker down” and you didn\’t go to Ole Miss!

Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it\’s Christmas.

Toilet Paper is elevated to coin of the realm at the shelters.

You know the difference between the “good side” of a storm and the “bad side.”

Your kids start school in August and finish in July.

You go to work early and stay late just to enjoy the air conditioning.

Ice is a valid topic of conversation.

Your “drive-thru” meal consists of MRE’s and bottled water.

Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.

You spend more time on your roof then in your living room.

You’ve been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.

A battery powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.

You don’t worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.

Your child’s first words are “hunker down” and you didn’t go to Ole Miss!

Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it’s Christmas.

Toilet Paper is elevated to coin of the realm at the shelters.

You know the difference between the “good side” of a storm and the “bad side.”

Your kids start school in August and finish in July.

You go to work early and stay late just to enjoy the air conditioning.

Blast, it was all so normal 5 weeks ago…..