Being in New Orleans on August 29, 2008 is a strange and magnificent thing. Obviously, there’s a certain anniversary to consider. A storm has its eye on the metro area. Banksy walks among us. And for some reason, there’s a lot of activity, a lot of buzz: helicopters and planes flying low in the air, sirens wailing. Frankly, it’s kind of exciting.
Which is fine now, but in a few days, I’ll probably be wishing for far less exciting times.
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