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So, a break from Katrina stuff. Just for a bit.

Today, I’m thinking about Bush’s newest pick for the Supremes. And I’m wondering if anybody else died a little inside yesterday as GW was going through his nomination schpiel, listing Harriet Miers’ community activities. He was bumbling along, rattling off things like the state Bar Association, the YWCA, Goodwill Industries, Exodus Ministries…. And I was all, like, wait, wait, wait: did bitch say what I think he said? Exodus freaking Ministries?

As it turns out, he did. I suppose it could be this Exodus Ministries. Or the slightly less creepy Exodus Ministries. But I hope to goddess that Miers wasn’t affiliated in any way with this version of Exodus, ’cause I’ve already got one ulcer working right now.

Does anybody know for sure? Oddly enough, The Advocate didn’t even bother to mention it in their somewhat phoned-in coverage of the story. But then, they’re not always the brightest kids on the swing set, if you know what I’m sayin’.

In recent weeks, I’ve seen many, many disturbing trends in media reportage on New Orleans–notably, facile discussions of race, misrepresentation of neighborhood demographics, and wanton usage of every gumbo and Mardi Gras cliche in the book. But by far the worst offense is some reporters’ belief that New Orleans is part of the Delta.

Quick geography lesson, folks: when people talk about “the Delta,” they’re talking about an area in Mississippi, north of Vicksburg, south of Memphis, and west of I-55. If you’ve ever heard of people talking about “Delta Blues,” that’s the delta they’re talking about.

“The Delta,” however, is a long way away from the Mississippi River delta, which is located a couple of hundred miles south–oddly enough, in Louisiana, below New Orleans, at the mouth of the river. Like the Delta, the Mississippi River delta is a floodplain, but that’s about the only similarity between the two regions.

The Delta is home to Mississippi’s once-thriving, now-lackluster cotton industry. It’s reasonably well populated, but the folks who live there are generally poor and black, many descended from slaves and sharecroppers. It’s flat and featureless terrain, the logical birthplace place for a musical genre as woeful as the blues.

The Mississippi River delta, on the other hand, is home to very little. There are a handful of shrimpers and fishermen, maybe a refinery here and there, but not much else. The population is minimal, not least because global warming and coastal erosion have gradually washed away the few shreds of land that people can live on. As a result, it lacks the well-defined, celebrated culture of its sister to the north.

So I beg of you, despite what dreamboat Andy Cooper and his cronies may suggest, please don’t come to New Orleans thinking you can pop over to the Delta for an afternoon of authentic Delta Blues (unless, of course, you’re up for a fairly lengthy drive). I mean, yes, please, come to the city–I’ll take you out for drinks!–but you’ll have to make due with New Orleans Blues–which is just as good, if you ask me.

And another thing: remember former FEMA fat cat Michael Brown ranting to legislators earlier this week? Remember how he claimed that FEMA’s post-Katrina efforts went smoothly in Mississippi but tanked in Louisiana because of the state’s “dysfunction”? Well, not only does Brown conveniently overlook the fact many Mississippians expressed anger at FEMA in the days following the storm, but Brown’s critique also fails to take into account the fact that the two states suffered in very different ways.

It’s like comparing mangoes and papayas: Mississippi, like parts of St. Tammany and Tangipahoa Parishes in Louisiana, saw storm surge, which receded fairly quickly. New Orleans, however, experienced floodwaters that took weeks to pump out, forcing evacuations that otherwise might have been unnecessary. Clearly, neither FEMA nor the city nor the state were ready for that. For Brown to say that his minimal efforts should have worked under the extreme conditions in New Orleans when they barely worked in Mississippi and on the Northshore is disingenuous to the point of absurdity.

Instead of comparing states, Brown should be comparing situations. FEMA seems to rank in the C to C+ range for its response in most parts of the region, but he gets a D- or an F for New Orleans. Not that Nagin and Blanco don’t share some of the blame, mind you, but for Brownie to lay it entirely at their feet is ridiculous.

At last, a plan for (most of) us!

Mayor C. Ray Nagin announced today that the City of New Orleans is streamlining access into targeted areas of Orleans Parish while continuing to safeguard previously flooded areas. The City will begin allowing re-entry in the targeted zip codes of 70112, 70113, 70114, 70115, 70116, 70118, 70130 and 70131. Those areas include Algiers, the Central Business District, the French Quarter and Uptown.

Business owners in these zip codes may re-enter beginning tomorrow, Thursday, September 29, 2005. On Friday, September 30, 2005, residents in those eight zip codes will be allowed back in New Orleans.

On Wednesday, October 5, 2005, residents and business owners in the rest of New Orleans, with the exception of the Lower 9th Ward, can return.

— from the City of New Orleans’ latest press release

We left our house a month ago. Actually, we left our house a month and nine hours ago, to the minute: 11:55pm. It was dark, we were in a hurry, but we thought we’d be back soon, so we didn’t think about things too much.

Today, it’s a little weird to think of New Orleans as home; it’s almost like we’ve moved. We’ve settled into a routine here, a daily ebb and flow that’s not too different from the one we followed in New Orleans: I get up before dawn, make coffee, check email, do some work, hit the gym, struggle to stay up for The Daily Show, and wake up when Jonno comes to bed. He follows the same schedule, more or less, but he’s about eight hours behind–or 16 hours ahead, depending on how you look at it.

Eventually, we’ll have to deal with the problems of living in post-Katrina New Orleans. At the moment, though, the worst problem of all this–apart from imposing on our friends in Lafayette and living in a state of neverending uncertainty–is the resentment some of us are feeling toward friends who’ve moved on.

Now, I know that folks who work in service and other industries have found themselves in desperate straights. I know that waiters, hairstylists, gardners, New Orleans public school teachers, and many, many others haven’t been paid in over a month. I know those people and their families need food, clothing, and shelter, and they can’t get any of that at home. Logically, I understand that those people have to find work elsewhere to stay alive.

Still, I can’t help but feel slightly angry when I hear of folks who’ve abandoned ship (so to speak). New Orleans was and is a group project. By living there, we signed on to that project, implicitly throwing our hats in the ring with everyone else. We believed we were in it together. Friends who speak of leaving now sound like deserters.

Let me make this clear, though: my sentiments are not like those of Mr. Codrescu, who lamented that New Orleans after Katrina will be a different city. I acknowledge that. In fact, I embrace that. I’m not sentimental about some mythical New-Orleans-that-was. Leave that stuff to the talented people at WYES. I’m not the kind of person to spend much time looking back; I’m looking forward to a new, better city.

No, my sadness is that we’ve lost some very helpful hands in building this new, better city. Things that could and should happen–great things, great opportunities–will be carried out by fewer people. People who could be very useful, visions that could be uniquely clear, won’t be around to offer support and guidance.

But whatever. I’ll get over it. So will everyone else. Things will go forward. No one is irreplaceable.

My favorite part of the mayor’s new Safety and Security Re-Entry Information bulletin? The opening sentence: “On behalf of Mayor C. Ray Nagin and the City of New Orleans, Welcome Home!”

What’s so good about that, you ask? Well, grammatical eccentricities aside (I mean, what communications director in his right mind would capitalize “Welcome Home” like that?), this oh-so-cheery opener is followed by no less than 17 skull-and-crossbones-style warnings to returning citizens. To paraphrase: Welcome back! You could die here!

My least favorite part? Item #9, which contains contact info for something called “Remains Management” (225 763 5480 or 225 763 5760, if you’re interested). What the hell is that? Is it for dead pets? Dead people? Is that supposed to serve our funerary needs until Bultman is back up and running? I could call and find out, but do I really want to know?

During Rita’s march through Lafayette

Proof that adversity can make for some very strange bedfellows, indeed.

So, Bush just held a press conference in Austin. In theory, it was to address the rescue and recovery efforts for Hurricane Rita, but in fact, it turned out to be little more than a photo op with Rick Perry, Kay Bailey Hutchison, Tom DeLay, and other folks of dubious distinction.

I’m not saying that the press conference was a sham. I’m sure that somewhere deep down, Bush really does feel sorry for storm victims. I’m sure, however, that he’s equally sorry to see his public approval ratings hit the skids in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Still, if I were Bush’s publicist–and thank goddess I’m not–I might have cautioned him against appearing in an official capacity quite so soon. See, if I remember right, it was three days after Katrina before GW bothered to cut short his vacation for a fly-by of the Gulf Coast–in a jet plane, no less. (It was four days before he saw the area at closer range, by helicopter.) For Rita, though, Bush has set up camp in one of the affected states less than 12 hours after the storm made landfall. That leaves poor Georgie open to a number of critiques–all of which will soon follow, I’m sure:

• Bush cares more about his home state than about his troublesome, eccentric neighbor to the east.
• Bush cares more about the largely white, relatively affluent population of southeast Texas and southwest Louisiana than the predominantly African American, relatively poor population of New Orleans (a critique that overlooks Houston’s HUGE African American and Hispanic populations, but whatever).
• Bush cares more about shoring up support for his public policies than actually protecting and caring for the citizenry.

And sad to say, I think there’s a bit of truth behind some of those comments. ‘Cause while it’d be nice to believe that the press briefing was held to express hope for the rebuilding of damaged areas, it was pretty apparent Bush is even more anxious to rebuild his numbers at the polls. Not a great move, if you ask me.

But of course, you didn’t.

Update: Brian Williams has never been my favorite journalist, but he shares an interesting story about the various motivations behind another president’s response to a major hurricane in New Orleans.

Attention Wolf Blitzer, Aaron Brown, Paula Zahn, et al:

I am no longer listening to you. Any of you.

For nearly four weeks, you’ve asked the same questions over and over and over, and although the respondents have changed, the responses have not. So please, allow me to clear up things once and for all, okay?

Yes, we plan to return to New Orleans. I mean, have you been there?

No, we do not think the Feds moved quickly enough after Katrina. Not that our state and local officials are blameless, mind you, but their slip-ups pale in comparison to those of FEMA.

Yes, we plan to have a spectacular Carnival this year. Don’t believe me? Come watch the Krewe du Vieux parade from my house. Or join me for the Satyricon Ball; I’ve got a couple of extra tickets.

No, Kathleen Babineaux Blanco is not an accomplished public speaker. Maybe if she took those rocks out of her mouth….

Yes, there may be something to this whole “global warming” thing. Not that BushRoveHughesRumsfeldRice will pay it any mind, of course.

No, we do not think god hates us. Obviously, she hates Port Arthur, Texas.

Yes, I would totally nail Ray Nagin. You’d hit it, too, wouldn’t you, Aaron? I have it on good authority that you’ve got a thing for tha flava.

No, we are not making gumbo to pass the time. It’s too damn hot.

Yes, Anderson Cooper can have my phone number. (Call me, Andy!)

Got it? Great.

Tersely,
Richard

“Surreal” isn’t seeing photos of my New Orleans, muddy and desolate and nearly uninhabited. “Surreal” isn’t preparing to ride out a massive hurricane less than four weeks after the worst natural disaster in US history. Hell, “surreal” isn’t even Jan Crouch‘s gravity-defying coiff.

No, ladies and gentlemen, “surreal” is watching Martha Stewart show Liza Minnelli and Ben Vereen how to boil crawfish. Has the world gone stark-raving mad?