Some Whine With My Coffee

As I was reminded by our own weather this past weekend, it has been six years since the name "Katrina" came to mean something more than a version of "Katherine".

Six.  Years.

Seems incredible what has - and hasn't - changed in that span of time.

Did you know that the lawsuits that began shortly after Katrina slammed into the Gulf are still being argued in courts?  That it wasn't all that long ago that the "temporary trailers" meant to provide relief for a brief amount of time while rebuilding and relocating occurred were FINALLY hauled away?  It's so hard to believe.  I still glance at the online overhead map of Gulfport and Biloxi, just to virtually visit the streets, neighborhoods, and parks that I spent so many hours driving by.  Much has changed.  But, again, much has not.

And now we have had "Irene".  Our immediate area was spared any real hardship and I understand that the remainder of folks who live in my state will have power restored by the end of this week.  Honestly, the Awesome Boyfriend and I weren't put out at all by Irene's winds or rains whatsoever.  We *just missed* having one of our vehicles damaged by an awfully large chuck of tree - but that was really the only close call we had.  (For that matter, the tree chunk could have also fallen on the corner of the house too - but, again, it didn't.)  Irene was kind to us.

All that being said, it doesn't take a mental giant to say that Irene WAS quite a storm to our neighbors to the  North.  Flood waters have changed creeks to rivers, washed away roads and bridges and housing, caused fires and turned connected streets into virtual islands onto themselves.  The death toll started at four ... and then nine ... and then it was into the teens ... and now it has reached 40.  Damage estimates are between $5 billion and $7 billion.  I listened to those numbers as I pulled into the parking lot to get my coffee.  I tried to wrap my head around all those zeros as I stood in line.

My concentration of counting zeros (cut me some slack ... I was doing math with NO coffee in me yet) was broken as I became aware of a buzzing behind me.  A whiny, complaining sound ... "me me me me" it seemed to repeat.  There was a well-dressed man in the line behind me who was going on about how stupid all the warnings and cautions and advance preparation and evacuations had been.  About how, in the end, nothing storm-related had happened to anyone in his neighborhood and that Irene was very much ado about nothing at all.  A non-event.  About how put-upon he'd been to prepare during his precious down-time for a little bit of wind and rain that caused no damage whatsoever.

While he went on (and on and on and on), I thought to myself that perhaps he is a member of emergency personnel and, as such, was running on no sleep and had finally just lost his patience.  I thought that perhaps he has a family member fighting for their lives in a hospital and just needed something to vent about.  Maybe he is worried about his employment ... or had an ugly commute ...  In my mind, I gave him every excuse to behave so boorishly and I tried (not very hard but I DID try) to ignore his seeming disappointment at the lack of Irene-caused destruction.

As the line continued to move forward and we approached the counter, I recognized the employee running the register.  Being a regular at this establishment, I knew from our conversation the previous day that she lived with her parents and that they'd lost power early Saturday morning.  When we spoke Monday, she said the power company told her that they'd do their best to restore it soon but to prepare for being without power for the week.  Looking at her lack of usual makeup and not-as-neatly-coiffed hairstyle, I guessed that she was still without power.

I was just one person away from paying for my order when I heard the comment "honestly, this whole storm-centered weekend was a complete waste of  my energy.  I'd sue someone for the loss of my personal time because of this 'non-storm' if I could."  And hearing that did it.  Hearing that released my "whiny moron response button".  With the fresh estimated damage cost and death toll data still swirling in my head and the image of this cashier and her family losing their hot showers and stored refrigerated food for the week, I handed her my personal cup for my order and then turned around to meet the scowling unhappy gaze of this man ... the source of the unending monologue of woe.

"I heard this morning", I said with as much of an expressionless face I could muster, "that the death toll is 40 and probably rising and the damage estimate is between $5 to $7 billion. How many people would have needed to die for it to have been a more 'worthwhile' storm for you?"


I honestly did want a response.  I wasn't trying to shut him down completely and I really wasn't passing any judgement upon him.  I'm sure his neighborhood WAS completely untouched and that is it totally possible he had no idea that lives were lost and that massive property damage had occurred.  I actually was asking for his parameters because I was curious - at what body count number or dollar amount would his preparation been worthwhile to him?

Unfortunately I'll never know.  My coffee order was ready and he had walked to the opposite corner of the waiting line area without a response.

Comin' Around Again

In all the ways that I am very typically Irish, there is one “typical Irish” trait I do not seem to possess ... I do not seethe. Which is not to say that I don’t fume (or whatever similar word you’d plug in here) when I’m upset. I just don’t pout for hours on end. I don’t chew endlessly on my anger like a wad of gum. I don’t see the need. It’d serve no purpose, it’d take energy and honestly, dwelling on being angry doesn’t CHANGE whatever it is that angered you in the first place. I get mad, I allow myself to vent however necessary, and I recover.

I can honestly say that this lack of never-ending rage is true of all the disappointments and letdowns and double-crosses I’ve experienced in life thus far (and friends, trust me when I say that there have been some real doozies). However, like a lot of “rules”, there is an exception.

My “hot” button gets pushed with one topic – something I’ve tried (and failed) to chill out about for five years now. A discussion where I cannot see both sides, I cannot see the truth in opposing points of view, I cannot tolerate … and do not tolerate … those who pontificate and sermonize with answers now that they have had half a decade to research and study and learn about a situation that they were never in, never experienced for themselves, and never responded to in any way.

I’m referring to August 29th, 2005. The day that Hurricane Katrina made landfall. And I realize that I am guilty of being too close to this topic to discuss it without being biased. I accept that, and I agree that I am VERY biased about Katrina and what the Gulf Coast experienced.

It has been five years.

I still cannot think about that place, those people, their homes, the neighborhoods, and their history without getting emotional. The thing I’ve noticed is that I’m no longer angry about the topic, but I realize that I will always be passionate about it. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think that having passion for something … caring about something so deeply that discussing it moves you, brings you joy, makes you think, or just gives you pause for a moment for you to catch your breath or wipe your eyes … that kind of passion is what helps form us as individuals.

As the 29th looms closer and the various news and media outlets revisit Hurricane Katrina, I may or may not watch their shows or read their headlines, but I have my own story to recall and revisit. I do not seethe, but I will remember.

Ten Reasons To Be The One

(10) Do ya' like seafood?
(9) Are birds fun to watch?
(8) Have you ever chilled out to the music of Dave Matthews? ... Lenny Kravatz?
(7) Do you enjoy the sound of the sea lapping onto the shore?
(6) Ever find yourself rooting for Drew Brees? ... Peyton Manning?
(5) Are you a fan of turtles? ... Pelicans? ... Dolphins?
(4) How do you feel about a relaxing day on the water and maybe doin' a little fishing?
(3) Ever learned anything while watching Emeril Lagasse? ... Giggled while seeing Harry Shearer in a role? ... Has John Goodman ever made ya' smile? ... Enjoyed the talents of Blake Lively?
(2) Do you support generationally-owned businesses?
(1) Do you respect the work - public and private - that Sandra Bullock has done?

I gave ya' ten questions. And now, if there's even one "yes" in there, I'm asking you to Be The One.

Who Are You?

I've just spent a bit of my day listening to our President outline his plan in regards to cleaning up the oily mess that BP has made of the Gulf Coast.

Let me come clean about a few things before I continue:
(1) I don't enjoy politics.
(2) I don't follow politicians.
(3) I DO believe in the power of voting.
(4) I DO educate myself on things before I check any boxes on a ballot.
(5) I don't make it a habit to watch every "town hall" meeting.
(6) I also don't spend my time listening to pundits or that sort of thing. It's just not how I would enjoy spending my time.
and
(7) I have spent enough time in the Gulf Coast to see - first hand - that it's been treated like the red-headed, left-handed step-child of this country. Furthermore, the last time I saw that area getting the short end of a barbed stick, it sickened me so much that I pretty much MADE my employer pony up money, time, and effort to respond.

So back to the President ...

I was listening - as unbiased as I could be and withholding judgement ..... right up until he said the following (and I looked this up to make sure I got it right): "My job right now is just to make sure everybody in the Gulf understands: This is what I wake up to in the morning, and this is what I go to bed at night thinking about. The spill."

Uh huh.

I can't say that I agree with that statement. Is that honestly the biggest, most important job he has? That everyone in the Gulf know he's thinking about their region? Does that stop animals and plants from being poisoned or waters from being fouled?

I would rather have heard something along the lines of "my job right now is to make sure that any need in the Gulf region with regards to this crisis, be it financially based, time based, energy based, tool based, organizationally based, education based, response based, cleanup based, prevention based ... whatever that area needs ... my job is to get those items to them today. Now." But no dice. Awwww well ...

What really got my goat though - what REALLY spun me up - was listening to all these talking heads afterwards with their "we need to get this cleaned up" and "they should just get started" and "you can clean up the beaches today", etc.

Yanno the problem with those statements? The problem is in the "we", "they", and "you" part.

The last time I heard this sort of talk, I spent 6 weeks of my life over a two-year period doing what"we", "they", and "you" said should be done. Me. I did it. I put my life on hold and got on a plane. I changed my career path and signed up for a 65% pay cut. I missed out on major family events and begged for airline miles to go there not once but six ... SIX times and you know something else? I got it done, damnit, and while we're at it hey - I didn't see your ass down there, Mr. "I have all the answers and now here's Tracy with the weather". Where the hell were you then? In fact, there's still cleanup from Katrina to be done so don't let me stop you - get going and you can still get involved in THAT disaster today.


*exhale*


So just remember ... before YOU or THEY or WE come up with these quick and easy answers to things we read about or listened to for twenty whole minutes but actually have never seen with our own eyes, make sure YOU know who the THEY is ... or WE may tell you to shut the hell up and just do it ourselves.

It's not NICE to fool with Mother Nature

It should surprise no one that I've been a weather-junkie all weekend. My laptop has refreshed on the National Hurricane Center's url so many times that I only need to type the letter "n" for a URL and it appears for me. (Cool site, by the way so I may as well share it here ... http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/)

Gustav has come to to shore and moved inland as I write this. He came roaring into the Gulf waters, taking advantage of the jittery nerves surrounding the anniversary of his older sister Katrina and, thankfully, turned out to "only" be a Category 2 at best. (Strange world when one can say "Oh - well the winds were *only* between 96 and 110 mph" and have that be POSITIVE news.) He has provided MANY interesting shots for me, 'tho. And while I realize that I already *have* my own "Hurricane Blog" set up (I'll get to that), I wanted to share a few of these images.

What we have here is the ever-appropriately named Bay-Waveland Yacht Club in Bay St. Louis. Waveland used to be a REALLY nice place, or so I've been told. I only know it as a place where the mayor lived in the park for more than a year and held meetings in his tent. Katrina eliminated Waveland. I don't mean "wow - she trashed it and golly it sure was a mess" - I mean she made it go away. There was not ONE upright structure in Waveland after Katrina roared through ... not even a utility pole. Professional broadcasters who were covering damage were at a loss to get the point across that Waveland no longer existed. (A book I have on Katrina starts one paragraph with "But Waveland ... where was Waveland?") The Yacht Club was rebuilt on raised pillars and while this looks like a total loss to most people, it is a screaming success. So chalk one up to the good guys.


This is Highway 90. From "Camp Cockroach" in Gulfport (the nickname for the base camp we used), ya' drive down Pass Road, make a right onto Veteran's Blvd and it dead ends onto 90. Make a left and go about 4 miles until you are "in town" (shortly after Mary Mahoney's on your left). Anyway - This is Highway 90 - or more accurately this is half of Highway 90. Ya' see that barrier there on the right? That's where the other lanes should be, and then after that should be a fairly large strip of beach and THEN water. That patch of grass to the right is the median in the middle of the highway, not a sidewalk. But again - this is a win. I see upright poles in the middle of the road and I see trees still standing and my GOD I see land at the left where housing starts to appear. This is a HUGE win. The score is 2 to nuttin.

Ok this kinda sucks. This is the view of 90 from St. John Avenue. The GOOD news is that you can see the street slopes downwards towards the highway and that the street itself is not flooded. This means that there's a 33% chance that the town is not dealing with standing water. It's only 33% because Biloxi has three sides of water. In fact, the Back Bay was almost crueler to Biloxi during Katrina from the "backwash" to the Gulf. We can't claim this as a win on our side because 90 is a main access to a LOT of this area and until it is cleared, not much will be happening. Mother Nature scores 1 here.

The Hard Rock Hotel was 2 weeks away from opening when Katrina hit. They had MAJOR damage, and their icon - this guitar - was a shell. I won't get into what gambling does for this area, but without these businesses, this area NEVER would have made as much progress as it did. In the interest of keeping things in perspective, the vans we were using while I was there easily drove underneath that tiny little parking area to the left. So this is a shitload of water that needs to go away. On the other hand, the structure itself is upright (which wasn't always the case) and the hotel structure itself - from this VERY limited angle - appears to be fairly intact. This means that recovery crews will have places to sleep and clean up. This means that jobs will happen. This means that money will continue and so - only because of ALL that water in front - I'm gonna call this a draw. Otherwise it'd be a point for us - but I'll be generous.

Oh wait - I just saw something. So ya' see that beige structure to the right there in the Hard Rock shot? That's the Beau Rivage Casino and Hotel. Casinos in this area used to have to be on barges - no gambling was allowed on land - so hotels were on solid ground, but not the gambling itself. That immediately stopped when the "Casino Magic" Barge came ashore during Katrina and landed on top of the Beau Rivage. Wanna know what THAT looks like?

And THAT is why Katrina is still the mother of all storms. Gustav was just her crabby little brother.

I have completed blogging the first week of my experiences in Biloxi at my "other blog", called "Bigger Words Than 'Thank You'". It is embarrassing to say these are from 2006, but I will NOT wait until Hanna to post Week 2. I hope you enjoy Week 1.