Monday Monday

It's Monday. We have almost a full week until leaving for New Orleans early Saturday a.m. I already have my respirator mask, goggles (thanks Mike C.). Now I have to buy some gloves and heavy duty pants. Oh yeah — get a haircut. It's going to be hot so this shag must go. I'm both excited and nervous about what we're going to witness as I know the work will be hard, the sun will be hot, and the sights will be devastating. But I think it's important to help so I'm willing to walk through it and do what I can, as much as I can.

This weekend I realized that we will be arriving the day of the mayoral elections! That will be exciting as it is a historical election for the city. I was there the week of the 2004 presidential elections. That was crazy. People stood on intersections holding signs, cars were honking. In a smaller city you get a more intense feeling of whatever is going on. You can't escape the news. What was depressing — of course — was the outcome. Around 10 p.m., once I realized the election was going to Boy Howdy, I walked to the Maple Leaf, alone. Even the brass hysteria of The Rebirth Brass Band couldn't lift my spirits. Though it was a nice, if temporary, escape.

Now, of course, that period of our history seems so innocent. Everything in our nation's rearview mirror are halcyon days, aren't they? The smoke and mirrors that our top federal officials have worked to their advantage is a type of magic that has layered its citizenry in numbing denial and its watchdogs with general apathy. Can't happen here? I'm about to travel to a city where it is proved: Yes, it actually can.