First Jackie Clarkson, now the Bohn-heads. Perhaps there’s a reason I’ve never bought anything from that dealership. Will someone please send them a grammar handbook–or a proofreader who graduated from fourth grade?
P.S. Sorry for the crappy iPhone shot. I was too stunned to grab a real camera. But still: you get the picture.
Dear Residents of Southern California:
It should go without saying that all of us in southeastern Louisiana are concerned for your welfare. We remember the generosity that you showed us in our hours, days, and weeks of need. We are happy and eager to return the favor.
That said, as someone painfully familiar with Mother Nature’s increasingly bipolar ways, I can’t help but feel jealous of your situation. Or perhaps jealous isn’t the word–let’s say thankful.
I’m thankful that your state has the financial clout to pull through this disaster relatively quickly. I’m thankful that you’ve got political clout, too: although you’re a tried-and-true Blue State with some important Dems in congress, you’ve also got a GOP governator. Not a bad combination. (Side note: your elephantine governor and our asinine one often share an iffy command of the English language. Coincidence?)
As such, I’m thankful that you’ll be able to get through this without relying too heavily on the federal government–or on the hollow words of a hollow-headed president, who even today seemed to be hedging his bets:
“We want the people to know that there’s a better day ahead,” he said. “That today your life may look dismal but tomorrow life’s going to be better, and to the extent that the federal government can help you, we want to do so.”(NYT)
(Sadly, Mr. Bush is the personification of the very FEMA website he subsequently urged all of you to visit: frustrating, unfriendly, and anything but functional. Don’t be surprised if he uses you for a handful of photo opps, then speeds off to find the nearest Cracker Barrel.)
Most of all, I’m thankful that the horrors of Katrina may have prepared your elected officials and emergency personnel to provide you with an appropriate level of care. I’m not trying to be a martyr here, nor am I trying to make your disaster all about Me, Me, Me; I’m just saying that the storm was a wake-up call–for the government, for NGOs, for civic activists, and for nice, normal people who live down the block. I like to think that all of them took away a few important lessons from the post-K clusterfuck.
But just in case, we’ve already started sending help.
Sincerely,
Richard
Nearly a great shot: NYT does Diane Arbus
Reasons to vote for Jackie:
1. Her alleged record of success.
2. Her famous, magnificent offspring.
3. Her endorsement by the Log Cabin Republicans (who knew they had a logo?)
Reasons not to vote for Jackie:
1. Her inability to whiten her teeth in Photoshop convincingly. Yo, seriously.
2. Her problematic use of apostrophes. I mean, hello? Spellcheck?
Via my preferred Facebook app of the moment:
Yo, check it: a new morceau de Varla, featuring none other than Hottie McHothot himself, Mario Diaz. FYI, Ms. Merman will be performing on Halloween night at Le Chat Noir. Anyone wanna tag along?
For all those who believe that Louisiana is behind the times, that we’re three–maybe four–steps behind every other state in the country, please note:
St. Bernard Parish Councilman Joey DiFatta, who on Thursday withdrew from the 1st Senate District campaign, has been stopped twice since 1996 for suspicion of engaging in lewd behavior in public restrooms in Jefferson Parish, records obtained by The Times-Picayune show.
— more at NOLA.com
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen: we’ve got ourselves a toe-tapping tearoom scandal just like the one on the evening news.
Two quick observations:
1. Our homegrown homosex conflamma may be even more noteworthy than the one taking place in Idaho since, unlike Senator Craig (who’d probably be very comfortable among the non-homosexuals of Iran), DiFatta plainly admits he likes to get down with the mens. In other words, the issue isn’t his penchant for knobgobbling, but rather DiFatta’s fetish:
DiFatta also said he has a problem with such behavior and had sought counseling for the addiction in the past, the report states.
Which is remarkable language for the Picayune to use, since, well, it’s the Picayune fer chrissakes! I don’t even think they’ll print the word “ass”, yet here they are, talking about public sex between men as an outgrowth of sexual addiction. I mean, say what you want about New Orleans, but I doubt many other communities would deal with it like that.
2. On the other hand, as a gay man who’s always been thoroughly aware of the tearoom phenomenon, I’ve thought that restroom hookups were an open secret among males of our species. In department stores, football stadiums, and gas stations across the country, gay men have gotten it on, and straight men have looked the other way. I’m sure it’s not always been pleasant for the heteros, and I understand that such activity is explicitly illegal, but as long as it’s consensual, to me it’s a victimless crime…. And given that attitude, this may sound oddly prudish of me, but I’m not entirely sure that every schoolmarm in Peoria ought to know the minutiae of the deed and everything leading up to it.
It reminds me of that scene in Desperate Living where Mink Stole goes to the toilet and the aggro lesbian in the stall next to her keeps shoving her boobs through two chest-high gloryholes: complete absurdity. I mean, ladies, y’all don’t do such things, do you? What’s your equivalently open secret?
I’m jammed with stuff to do this week, but if I had the time, I know where I’d be Wednesday night from 7pm – 9pm: around the corner, at Sound Cafe (2700 Chartres Street), celebrating Ken Foster’s new book, Dogs I Have Met and The People They Found. And as if a reading/signing in a pet-friendly, caffeine-soaked atmosphere weren’t enough, the Hot 8 Brass band will be a-playin’. Bring your hound and have a cuppa joe for me….
From an article in the Picayune about last night’s City Park board meeting, at which various groups spoke to the board about redeveloping the park:
Housing advocate Elizabeth Cook said she found it “appalling” and “obscene” to be discussing golf courses while thousands of New Orleanians remain displaced two years after Katrina.
I’m sorry, but two years down the road, I’m getting really sick of this argument. In fact, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and call it downright offensive.
First, we couldn’t have Carnival because people were still displaced. Then we couldn’t have JazzFest. Indeed, over the past 25 months, hotel developments, street fairs, and even Hurricane Katrina remembrance ceremonies have been criticized because they haven’t focused attention or resources on the displaced. Rather, they’ve encouraged those of us who live here to spend money on–gasp!–ourselves.
Well, that’s all beginning to sound very “grieving widow” to me. At some point, we kinda have to move on, right?
Now, before you start hammering out hate mail, please note: I’m not saying that we ought to forget about displaced New Orleanians. On the contrary, we ought to do as much as we can to bring them back–unless, of course, they’ve found cities with job markets and school systems and crime stats that trump those available here. But really, what’re the odds of that?
Still, for folks to badger present-day residents into forsaking every bit of personal pleasure in the meantime is…well, it’s quite possibly the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard. There are several hundred thousand people living in Orleans parish, and roughly a million in Greater New Orleans. Why does our quality of life have to be put on hold? When do we get to dance a reel and wear a red dress to the party, Jezebel? Sheesh….
And just for the record, I’m not an ogre. Nor am I a regular golfer (though I do enjoy playing when I have the chance). However, I ain’t no Queen Victoria, either: I can only take so much abstinence.
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