Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Today marks one year after Hurricane Katrina. Here is how I spent the day.

I awoke in our FEMA travel trailer at 5:00 am, took a shower, and got dressed for work. It was just my Darling Wife and I today since our Precious Daughter is staying with Grandma and Grandpa for a couple days. I listened to NPR and heard some of the national coverage of this infamous day in history. But mostly, the news was about other routine difficulties. I posted a quick note to my blog.

I drove to work and had a cup of coffee. I sent a few emails, reviewed some proposals, met with coworkers and talked on the phone. A computer technician came by to fiddle with my computer to resolve a problem I’ve been having.

At 11:30 I went down to the cafeteria and got a plate of breaded pork chops, mashed potatoes and green beans. I brought my food back to my desk, checked my personal email and read The Times-Picayune online. I was curious to see what the president was doing today during his visit to New Orleans. It turns out he went to Betsy’s Pancakes on Canal Street and visited Warren Easton public high school.

After lunch, I sent a few more emails and met with colleagues about some project maps we need to produce. Then I went to a long afternoon meeting to discuss the proposals I had been reviewing. We met until 6:00 pm, at which time I returned to my desk and called my Darling Wife.

I did a few more end-of-the-day chores and I signed out at 6:40 pm. On the way back to my travel trailer I heard part of an interview with Ivor Van Heerden on the radio. I changed the station to WWOZ.

I stopped at Mediterranean Cafe on Carrollton Avenue. I ordered two take-out meals. They told me 10 minutes. I walked across Carrollton Avenue to the Parkview Tavern and ordered a Jack and 7. I paid $3.50 and tipped 50 cents. I walked back to Mediterranean Cafe to enjoy the Moroccan music and my drink.

When my order was ready, the lady brought it out and asked for $18.50. I produced a credit card. “Cash or check only,” she said. I barely had ten bucks in cash and no checks. “You can bring it tomorrow,” she said. I thanked her and left.

Back at the trailer, I filled the cats’ bowls with food and fresh water. I retrieved the mail from the mailbox at the curb. I straightened the place up a bit while waiting for my Darling Wife. I put the radio on and listened to Jivin' Gene on WWOZ. He played “Going to the Chapel” by The Dixie Cups and some Ernie K-Doe.

My wife arrived and we feasted on gyro, kibbi and stuffed grape leaves. We talked about our days at work. We talked about future plans. As of this writing, she is typing and printing from our personal computer in preparation for work tomorrow. I’m typing this on my notebook computer from work.

In a little while, she will have a cup of hot chocolate and I will have a glass of Ovaltine and we will retire. I will say, “Good night, my honey,” and she will say, “Good night, sweetie.”

I don’t know what the rest of the world is doing today, this day that will live in infamy for New Orleanians and all Americans alike, but here is what I did: worked, ate, loved and slept.

It’s all I can do.