Dangermond.org

When I was summoned to jury duty in February the case I got assigned to was about three New York investment bankers who scrappily put together a “construction company” to come down and repair houses post the Federal Flood. The attorneys asked if anyone in the jury had a problem with this – HA HA HA HA. Really? Are you kidding me? I’ve been railing at Carpet Baggers pre-Katrina/Federal Flood and now this?

Meanwhile last week there was an indictment handed down to FEMA Supervisor and Disaster Services contractor for basically seeing a disaster and trying to capitalize off of it. Yoopee is all I have to say. From nola.com:

If convicted, each man faces a maximum 25 years in prison and fines of $500,000. Mr. Blevins also faces three additional years in prison for alleged witness tampering during the investigation. Prosecutors said he urged his girlfriend to lie to a grand jury about the ill-gotten contract. The government said it plans to try to recoup $31 million paid under the contract.

It’s threatening to clean us up but thus far we’ve been dry and the lagoon at City Park is getting pretty stinky, which makes me also wonder how they can have a fishing rodeo if the fish are about to have no habitat. Meanwhile Louisiana Irises are blooming everywhere – there is one that is magenta near the Dumaine Bridge.

I had a mammogram today and the woman talked nonstop about my Newtons – she wants a pair and this kept my mind off the great squeeze down.

Now if only it would rain.

I signed up for District NOPD reports in real time and now I’m scratching my head. This right here reads like something out of the Wire which makes me wonder why they bothered to make Treme, when they could have just made Wire New Orleans:

On March 27, 2011, at approximately 3:50 pm officers were dispatched to the 300 block of South Rocheblave Street to investigate an aggravated battery.

Upon arrival the victim had been placed into an ambulance for transport to the hospital.

Officers relocated to the hospital where the following was learned from the victim.

Shortly before 4:00PM the victim was inside of his apartment when he heard a knock on his door. When he answered the door he saw two young black females whom he recognized from the neighborhood. He did not know the girls names or addresses, but referred to one of them as “Baby Girl.” The other female possibly dates “Baby Girls” sister.

The girls asked the victim to come outside because they needed to talk to him about something. The victim went outside and talked with them about the second line that had passed through the district.

After a few moments, a black male whom the victim referred to as “Stank,” emerged from underneath a stairwell near the front of the apartment complex. Stank was armed with a stick, similar to the surveying stakes which are present in the area. Stank immediately approached the victim, yelling at the victim accusing him of having an intimate relationship with the mother of his child. Stank began to beat the victim with the stake knocking him to the ground at which time he continued to beat him. Stank and three females entered an older tan Ford Explorer, license plate unknown, then drove northbound on Palmyra.

The victim stated the third black female whom he saw enter the Explorer was not present when the two females knocked on his door and  he did not notice her until Stank confronted him. He believes the name of the third female is Bianca. The victim was unable to give accurate names for the subjects, but believes Stank and the females possibly live in the area of Galvez Street and Orleans Avenue.

Officers observed a large laceration to the underside of the victim’s left  arm, consistent with a defensive wound. The victim also had a laceration to the third finger on his left hand and was unable to close his hand. Several smaller lacerations were visible on the victim.

Monday started with this missive:

LITANY AGAINST FEAR

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

Here I am in the city where my Boston friend said you could marry a donut and no one would notice and I’m typing at the dining table while looking out at the bayou. This morning we woke early, early enough that the sun was only just peeking behind the houses on the other side of the bayou, and early enough to see across a little blonde toddler running and realizing it was our friend’s daughter but before I could grab my car keys and run, we saw the mother running down her stairs and after the little girl who was now holding the hand of a man on his way home with groceries who had spotted her too.

Later, I watched a parade of Vespas go by and then local writers, Joseph and Amanda Boyden, walking their miniature dog around the bayou followed by a local musician who cruised by in his fancy pants old winged car. The Boydens later stopped to inquire about my columns (the money pit columns that are quite beautiful).

We filled up the baby pool in back with warm water and I brought my New York Times, which has grown into a collection of three weeks worth of New York Times and T brought her papers to correct and Tin frolicked in the pool, peed in the water, put sand from his sandbox in the water, and when he had gotten it as hedonistically murky as he could, he laid down in and enjoyed it.

Meanwhile, I read about Zumthor, a Swiss architect who is out of step with the new world economy, the fast pace of building, and who doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass. Interesting guy, and his buildings speak for themselves.

I thought I saw Richard Ford twice yesterday in the Quarter, perhaps I did. I felt like I knew everyone at the Tennessee Williams Fest and yet, and in particular without wearing my glasses, I wasn’t sure where I had met them.

I went to a panel discussion yesterday on writing about family as part of the Tennessee Williams Festival and must say I think I learned more about writing about family from Tom and Rose, the play we saw last night that was a mash up of Williams’ intertwined relations with his disturbed sister and his use of her as character after character in his work.

Williams called New Orleans the first city where the spirit could be free, and yet he was haunted by the mental fatigue of his family, that he loved but was tortured by, and it was this family that fueled his writing and animated his Blue Devils and created the Tennessee we all know so well.

At the end of this festival, of which I missed John Waters and Armistead Maupin having to pick from panels to attend, work to do, time with T squared as well as other obligations, I came away believing that it is the stuff that gnaws at us from the inside out that causes us to write things down, to create other worlds, and I know only too well the despair that caused Percy to write, the love and revulsion of family that caused Tennessee to write, the desire for truth that caused Berry to write, and of all the things that New Orleans does well, it is honoring literature this weekend, where dysfunction is manifest and family is closer and further apart than anywhere else.

The Tennessee Williams Festival started on Thursday and it is always one of my favorite festivals in the city – and this from a city whose festivals never quit. Yesterday morning I went to a panel discussion on one of my favorite authors, Walker Percy, and listened to three Southern writers discuss The Moviegoer. The feelings this all aroused was a watershed of my first wanting to write at the tender age of 20, my first love being quite literary and encouraging me, his own endorsement of my writing Walker Percy, my all time favorite author, a letter, to which Percy replied, all the way to the fact that his ex became an author herself and was on the panel now discussing Percy. It was almost full circle.

I then went to a panel discussion on writing about family that had Dorothy Allison, Valerie Martin, and other writers discussing what I had hoped to be was insight into writing about family but actually it was more of an anecdotal pass time instead.

I left to go meet T-squared to have lunch, but when I walked outside the Quarter was abuzz not just with the festival but with some roadhouse cooking bonanza going on up and down Royal Street not to mention the Scavenger Hunt that has become so popular in this city where I saw friends running by who breathlessly said, “We’re on the hunt, can’t talk.”

T parked on Esplanade and I made my way to her in the most inappropriate shoes to wear to the Quarter – high heels! Then we walked to the Marigny where we got a beer at the Brasserie and let Tin play in the park. Playing with him were familiar musicians – Ms. Sophie Lee and her partner, who is in the Jazz Vipers and their two kids. I was just marveling how wonderful this moment was but only some minutes into Tin swinging a boy walked in front of the swing and they head butted leading Tin into tears and a bloody nose.

Meanwhile, a friend was having a reading at Antenna in the Bywater, and my truck was back near the Royal Orleans and T’s was on Esplanade, so we foolishly began walking (again, I’m in heels) towards the gallery and I suddenly was starving and we stopped at Cake for a sandwich, then continued on our journey into the Bywater, where we were picked up by a friend passing by and brought to our destination.

Our friend had picked the busiest weekend in the year to have her reading and I was glad we went as we were the only ones there. She read from her book, Travels with Mae, and we sat on the floor and listened to the easy cadence of her tales of growing up black in New Orleans. My feet were sore, but I was glad we were there.

Then we made our way home where it was only long enough for a James Brown turnaround and the babysitter to arrive as T and I sprinted back to the Quarter to watch Jeremy Lawrence channel Tennessee as he does so well and watch Tom and Rose: My Sister Was Quicker At Everything Than I at Le Petit Theatre, which ended an hour and a half short with me in tears and Lawrence in tears.

We picked up the truck and headed to Meaux Bar for dinner and believe it or not after a leisurely delicious meal and gin and tonics, we made our way home for the first part of the Social Network, which T hadn’t seen yet.

And that my dear ended my long, wonderful, yet exhausting Saturday.

A friend forwarded this video to me about a revolution in education and yet the revolution is a throwback to an education system that worked that we then changed and institutionalized and silo’d ages and sometimes gender and lost all of this momentum. I went to see a woman talk about her life in Tibet and how children are educated by throwing everyone in the classroom together and the older kids help the younger kids and kids are able to learn at their own pace.

Khan is advocating that here. So it took a computer revolution and a hedge fund analyst to go back and do education the way it used to be done to revolutionize education. Amazing.

What’s really unique is the way you could connect and mentor kids around the world!

I woke this morning to this out my front window:

And this in the news:

Syrian Troops Open Fire on Protesters in Several Cities

Budget Impasse Increasing Risk of U.S. Shutdown

Japan Encourages a Wider Evacuation From Reactor Area

Hundreds of Thousands Flee Ivory Coast Crisis

Catholic Order Reaches $166 Million Settlement With Sexual Abuse Victims

I signed up for the NOPD listing of crime in the 1st and 3rd district and I’m a little sad I did. I have received in the past couple of days two disturbing notices about two young men who died. Two separate incidences. They died not because of anything more stupid than they had guns. One had a gun and the other had a gun and they got in an argument and shot. Good grief! A fellow New Orleans blogger is keeping track of the dead and I went to see if he had these guys on his list and saw this post instead.