my new job as a zombie…
a day after the election and two days after the only “midcity” mardi gras event of the season, i have an epiphany or rather a suspicion. no, make that a diagnosis. we are no longer connected. i’m not just talking about utilities. i’m not just talking about the islands of repopulation across the metropolis. i’m not talking about the fact that people elsewhere don’t get it. i’m talking about a deeper disconnection. the fact that ms. carter’s comments in spike lee’s film contributed to bill jefferson’s re-election, the fact that harry lee (an asian) still believes in racial profiling and mudslinging, the fact that most of the world thinks we’re okay and that the new orleans saints are “america’s team” du jour (remember the patriots won the superbowl post 911)– ALL these facts prove that we have lost touch. period.
what is really important this holiday season (post K II)? another fleur de lis? a set of spinners for my FEMA trailer? hopefully not things because there’s no room to put gifts in the doublewide. how about something not in a store? how ’bout human interaction? how about re-connection? or is that too scary? in this feared, frightened, and fearful city, we have lost touch with other human beings. it’s rough (even dangerous) to get out…the joy of living here has melted into short-tempered outbursts gilded in sadness (can’t be covered in copper… someone keeps stealing all that). even after this year’s winner of the nobel prize names poverty as the biggest problem in the world, new orleans’ recovery is really about… well, poverty. it’s about money. it’s about priorities and the lack thereof. if the state and the insurance companies hold onto the money, their coffers get more interest. the longer the insurance companies hold out, the more desperate we become and more likely to accept a smaller settlement. is this fair? is this america? is this why we fight and die and vote? (you can change the order of those if you’d like.) i’m not asking anyone to agree with me, i’m not asking to be elected or assassinated. i am only asking for a dialogue to begin, a braintrust to be assembled, a connection to be made. (nice asyndeton, eh?)
as i wandered like a zombie at that mardi gras party last friday, i felt unconnected. i was numb. i had sensory underload, something one never got in new orleans before, no matter how “hurricaned” you were. i talked. i sang. i performed. at least i vaguely remember doing so. i was so hoping someone there would get it. i so hoped someone there might give me a wink and a nod. maybe they did, but i missed it. afterall, this zombie gig is a new one for me, and i’m not quite comfortable with the role yet.
life is good here in the bloggerspace. but we still must put pen to paper, still turn talk to walk… and,whether we stay or go, we must fight with our last dying breaths…
this is not a movie. this not a t.s. eliot poem… this is my life… our lives… BLOG THIS!
Related Posts
Tags
Share This
