NOLA...No-No-No-NOLA!

This week has been, like all the others, absolutely amazing, especially the weekend. On Saturday, I had the opportunity to go to the Lower 9^th Ward to do some volunteer work. I was excited about this because I got to work with kids, which is something I enjoy doing in my work with Bounceback Kids. One little boy, Larenzo, or Rennie, was nearly 2. He was counting the basketballs, hitting people with a rake and an air pump, and eating chalk (it’s ok…I used to eat chalk, and look how I turned out…). We played with the kids at a park, and then gave them Gatorade and Subway sandwiches. While it was fun to play with the kids, the conditions of the lower 9th were saddening. However, I am very glad I got to see them because it really showed me what damage Katrina, as well as poor government handling, has wrought. There were defunct cars lying around in the street, and often it was difficult to tell which houses were being lived in and which were abandoned. Jocelyn, the contact through whom I found out about this, then took me around to different sites to give me a tour of "the real New Orleans." The French Quarter, while the most popular tourist attraction, is unlike the vast majority of New Orleans. The gutted houses, the spots where the levees broke, the cypress swamp ravaged by both humans and nature --- these are the forgotten New Orleans. I am surprised, years after Katrina, that these areas still have not been rebuilt. I have found, through my adventures in NOLA, that there is a great disparity between living conditions. One street will be affluent, and lavish, while the next street over is impoverished. Jocelyn took me to one house of a friend who she knew who worked at Loyola. The house had been gutted: on the inside, just the beams between the walls remained. As Jocelyn said, ‘Each house tells a story”. The garage in this house was destroyed. The extra car that was in the driveway was carried through the garage door and out the back of the garage during Katrina. The refrigerator then floated through the back wall of the house. When they cleaned out the house, some weeks later, mud was caked all over, like an impenetrable wall of cement. This house was right by the spot where one of the levees broke. It was really something to see firsthand such destruction and the area where where the levees broke. On the way back, Jocelyn pointed at an overpass. Here, she explained, one of her friends waited for three days with no food or water during Katrina, to avoid the flooding.

On a significantly more trivial note, I went to the zoo on Sunday. Audubon Zoo is massive. I especially enjoyed seeing the elephants, giraffes, and primates. I was lucky enough to go on the day when a new baby giraffe, Juno, was introduced to the zoo. I also saw a peacock that was allowed to roam freely, and I was able to get within two feet of it. I felt as if I was channeling Flannery O’Connor’s spirit! Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the zoo. From there, I went to Audubon Park and read A Prayer For Owen Meany and ate a Snowball. (For those of you who do not know what a Snowball is, it is flavored ice in a cone.) So, that about sums up my fabulous weekend. Off to a wonderful week, and many perilous voyages through the streets of New Orleans. Until the next post, stay dry and be sure to brush your teeth before bed…

Peace,

Moe Long

One Bourbon Street, one Moonshine, and one Beignet (with respect to John Lee Hooker)

I have had quite a weekend! On Saturday I went on a swamp tour with Norbert LeBlanc. Norbert is an elderly, bearded man with plenty of experience on the swamp. Along the ride, he showed us shells from turtles that he had just caught, pictures of him with 12-foot long gators he had captured, National Geographics in which Mr. LeBlanc was featured, and a picture of Norbert with Charles Kuralt. We toured the swamp, and were lucky enough to see an 11-foot alligator. Norbert also showed us the big old trees on the other side of the lake, one of which was 1200 years old or so. Then we went into a cove of trees once used for voodoo rituals, and offered us moonshine. I was surprised by the amber color of the liquid. As it turned out, the amber coloring came from the barrel that the moonshine was aged in for 5 years. Then we went to a local restaurant, and I ate an alligator burger. The next day, I awoke early, with the crowing of the cock, and ventured out into the city. I first visited the Ogden Museum of Southern Art. There were some spectacular pieces there. In particular, I enjoyed the photography section the best. I felt that the simple black and white photos really captured the Southern way of life perfectly. After Ogden, I decided to tackle the French Quarter. It was...well...an adventure. I started off on Bourbon Street, and never in my life have I been solicited by so many strip clubs. My favorite name was "Johnny Flynt's Barely Legal" club. I doubled back, and said wait, is that legal? Than I realized that it was, as the sign indicated that it was legal, but only barely. One of the very sketchy strip joints even tried to entice new customers with free BBQ ribs. Anyways, I made my way out of the red light district as soon as possible, but was then offered cheap bootleg porn DVD's by two men. I politely declined. I took out my camera and was taking some truly lovely pictures of the city, when I attempted to take a shot of a man smoking a large stogie. He said no pictures, then found out I was from NC, and began talking to me. I ended up talking to this man (John was his name) for about 45 minutes. John shared his insights on corruption in the government, and even said that cash rules everything around him (not in those words exactly though...I borrowed that phrase from the prophetic Wu-tang Clan). John was born in South Carolina, and moved to New Orleans after his tour of service in Vietnam, got a girl pregnant in Nawlins, and ended up settling down here. He had his baby shower at Pat O’Brien’s, where his wife was working at the time. When he started talking about conspiracy theories, I grew excited, as that is right up my alley. John explained that when he was in 'Nam, his job was protecting the Vietnamese and the poppy fields. He also discussed Manuel Noriega, and how his trial was never publicized, because the U.S. government was actually pushing the crack. The CIA in fact distributed crack widely, he said. This John fellow explained that the government is run by the mob. Money is what influences people's decisions. And money corrupts. (For those of you wondering, this is all taken from John, and not my own thinking.) John then told me about his experience with Hurricane Katrina, when he fled to Texas. After sitting in the sun on the stoop counting my lack of money and talking to John, I was rather hungry. So, as a good tourist, I made my way to Cafe Du Monde, and ordered a coffee and some beignets. Delicious! But, Sunday is almost over. Alas! The weekend squandered again! I guess I had better get ready for a strenuous day at work, and a nice long workout in Audubon Park in 101 degree weather...until the next post, may the Force be with you...

peace,
Moe

GRN

As you all know I've been interning with the Gulf Restoration Network. So far, work has been pretty routine: drafting cover letters about Katrina Anniversary movie screenings, looking up contact information for senators and congressmen, and the likes. GRN is a non-profit with the goal of saving the Gulf Coast, mainly through spreading knowledge of the dangers plaguing Louisiana. A disturbing, and frightening tidbit that I picked up is that Louisiana loses a football field in wetlands every 45 minutes. So, it appears that the Saints season is in jeopardy. Here you can see some pictures of me diligently working in what we affectionately refer to as "the intern sweatshop". It has no windows, and a very low ceiling, such that certain interns must duck slightly when navigating the sweatshop. However, we do have a nice, brightly colored decorative sheet on the wall to liven things up, and the interns have created a jovial atmosphere. The GRN is also a very dog friendly establishment, with anywhere from 1 to 7 dogs running around on any given day. Sometimes the dogs do not get along so well, and we hear barking from downstairs. Sometimes Aaron our supervisor emits such barking sounds too; however this is just standard office procedure. Please take a moment to view our intern office tour video (below). It depicts a normal day at the office. Well, it is now 10:30, and if I want to be lively and energetic at work tomorrow I had better start drinking coffee now. After all, I have an exciting day of drafting cover letters, going to a rally outside of Congressman Cao's office, and running through Audobon Park so that all of the lovely Loyola ladies can check me out...well, here's to imagining. Until the next post, be safe, have fun, and most importantly remember to take your vitamins.

peace,
Moe

Bonnaroo!

So...what can I say? Bonnaroo was a blast! I had no idea what Bonnaroo even was. Then I got a call asking if I wanted to go to this mysterious Bonnaroo to help table for the Gulf Restoration Network, the non-profit I am interning for. Well, I looked it up, and saw that the Beastie Boys, Snoop Dogg, Bruce Springsteen, Public Enemy, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Nine Inch Nails, Cage the Elephant, moe., Murs, and Todd Snider (among others...) were going to be preforming. Needless to say, I accepted the challenge. When we arrived, we set up camp in the vendors area. I then ventured out into the festival. There were rows of food vendors, booths of environmental activists, musical merchandise, and, most importantly, stages. Each stage had a name like What Stage, or Which Stage, or the Other Tent, or That Tent, which made directions rather confusing. "Excuse me kind sir, might you direct me to the Other Stage?" I watched Murs that night. The next morning I tabled with "J" and "D", other volunteers helping GRN. "J", as it turned out, was a dirty old man. He only became dirtier as the weekend progressed, as nobody seems to bathe at Bonnaroo. However, the filthiness I refer to is that of the mind. "J" constantly talked of women, and kept saying that we were studying astrology, "the study of heavenly bodies". As we were setting up camp, he asked me if I knew a passing lady. I responded in the negative, and asked if "J" knew her. He retorted that he did not, but that he wished he did. Seriously. He then kept saying things about the females from GRN who were working at Bonnaroo, like "if I were 20 years younger and single..." Apparently Rolling Stone Magazine features topless women in articles about Bonnaroo, because "J" kept asking me where the topless women were. I told him they were avoiding his lingering gaze. Did I mention that he brought a hatchet? Disconcertingly, another volunteer then did a line of coke and ambien off the GRN table while we were working. The whole weekend smelled like pot, porta potties, and horse poop (we had Canadian horseback riding police patrolling the campgrounds). Still, I had a blast, despite the fact that most of the hippies chose not to use the 7 dollar showers. I heard some amazing musical artists, people-watched, tabled, and didn't get much sleep. SO I think I'm gonna catch up on that now. Thanks for tuning in! Stay tuned in for the next episode, where our hero Moe Long ventures out into Nawlins further, exploring the city when he is not in a small, very warm office with no windows.
peace,
Moe