~ Tim's ~ Nameless ~ Blog ~

So long, 2010

2010-12-31T19:56:00.002-06:00

As 2010 comes to a close, I must admit this blog does not get the attention it used to--not from me and as a result not from readers.

This is not a bad thing. I started blogging in the dark days after Hurricane Katrina, when the city of New Orleans was still mostly deserted, when the power was not yet on in many neighborhoods and the heavily damaged parts of the city were off-limits in daytime and at night. I blogged because I had a story to tell. I knew I was living through something unique, something terrible, yes, but something people needed to know about nonetheless.

But the main reason I started blogging was for my own sanity. My mind was filled with images and ideas that I had to put into writing. My mind was screaming with despair for what had happened but also with hope for what would come.

But I guess my life is more "normal" now. I don't expect anyone will want to read about what I had for lunch, and I don't feel a need to wax poetic about the new TV we bought earlier this year. Hence, this space is left quiet.

I hope everyone remembers that just five years ago, there was talk that New Orleans should not be rebuilt. Many, in Congress, on the news and especially on the Internet said it would be "stupid" or "a waste of time and money" to rebuild New Orleans. This talk has subsided, but the sentiment remains. Just yesterday I heard myself defending the existence of New Orleans yet again, telling a Virginian my well-rehearsed line about how New Orleans is almost 300 years old--what makes you think it won't survive 300 more?

Today, New Orleans is growing and thriving. Like every other city in America we have our challenges. But we face them, head on. What kind of cowardice has taken hold of America when someone can seriously propose that a major port city should not be continued?

New Orleans is no place for cowards. We steadfastly struggle with nature, ourselves and everyone else on a daily basis. Someone wrote to The Times-Picayune a few years ago that every day in New Orleans is 24 hours long and 48 hours hard. You're damn right.

So everyone who doubts us, everyone who says or thinks we're not worthy, piss off. This is New Orleans, this is America, and WE ARE STILL HERE.

And we are moving forward into 2011 with your help or without it. Doesn't matter to me.

Peace, and Happy New Year.

Paying the poor road tax

2010-09-25T12:47:00.002-05:00

Imagine throwing $681 dollars of your money into a hole every year and getting nothing in return. Goodbye hard-earned cash.

Sad to say it but if you drive a vehicle on the crappy streets of New Orleans, that's exactly what you do each year.

A new study estimates that more than half our streets are in "poor" condition--the lowest rating on the scale. Only 13% of roads are rated "good" at the opposite end of the spectrum.

And those pot-holed, dilapidated streets not only make your drives longer and bumpier, they do real damage to your vehicle. Think about it. Rough roads result in more frequent maintenance and repairs, rob your engine of fuel efficiency and even decrease the life of tires.

This damage costs money, and researchers put a price on it. This estimate includes depreciation of your vehicle value, increased fuel costs and the costs of more frequent maintenance. The average annual cost for driving in New Orleans is $681, a figure that is a whopping 70% higher than the US average.

In very real terms, we pay a poor road tax every time we drive on poor streets and highways.

None of us are surprised that streets in the New Orleans area are ranked among the worst in America. If anyone was surprised, it was that we were ranked only 6th in the list of major cities.

The national transportation research group TRIP released its rankings in a report titled, "America's Roughest Rides."

This is a nationwide crisis that everyone predicted. You don't have to be an economist or an engineer to know that roads and highways require continuous maintenance and repairs.

And you probably also know that every year there are more people in more vehicles travelling the roads. Federal Highway Administration data indicate that since 1990, overall vehicle travel has increased 39 percent. So funding of road work has to keep up with the required maintenance of roads that are being used more and more each year.

That has not happened.

A report from the US Department of Transportation estimates the annual investment required just to maintain the status quo condition of streets and highways is $26.6 billion. The actual annual spending on streets and highways by all levels of government: $14 billion.

That's an annual gap of more than $12 billion. No wonder streets seem to be getting worse!

The fix to fix our streets is obvious: dedicate more funding to road work. Government at all levels can pitch in by funding work on streets in the poorest condition. The nice thing about highway projects is that they also create jobs--jobs that can't be exported or out-sourced across the border.

The Federal Highway Administration also estimates that the economic impact of each dollar spent on road, highway and bridge improvements results in $5.20 of benefits in the reduction of vehicle maintenance costs, reduced travel time, reduced fuel consumption, improved safety and even in reduced air pollution.

The full report is here.

NOLA Needs Scenic Canals, Not Grim Levees?

2010-09-10T06:00:00.001-05:00

Seriously? THIS is the recommendation of "experts"?

That NOLA needs scenic canals, and not "grim" levees?

Do I even have to do the calculations to refute the idiocy of this suggestion?

Does anyone really believe it's possible to dig enough canals and lakes in New Orleans so that when the next deadly storm surge arrives that water could be safely and efficiently stored to avoid flood damage? This sounds like a plan concocted by third graders--and I apologize to any third graders reading this if that offends you.

Even if we had huge canals and lakes that could contain all the water from a hurricane storm surge, wouldn't they be filled with water all the time? I mean, you can't store more water in a container that is already filled with water, right? So the whole concept would rely upon being able to pump down those canals and lakes to almost empty just before a hurricane storm surge hits us. And then we'd have to devise some way to funnel that storm surge neatly into the canals and lakes before anyone was hurt.

I know we'd all like to think that we don't need those "grim" levees, but friends, there are no other options. I know we'd like to be able to make this hurricane problem go away if we just had more canals and lakes for storage, or just more swamp to knock down the storm surge, or more river diversions to build "natural" defences...

But it just doesn't work.

Okay, so the engineer in me wins out and I will run the numbers just for fun. I know it's stupid but I can't help myself. Let's see what happens if you try to catch hurricane storm surge with canals.

Assume an ordinary hurricane about 9 miles in diameter. Assume it delivers a 3-ft storm surge to the city limits. That's not a very big storm, but let's just see what happens. Assuming a perfectly round eye and a perfectly cylindrical storm surge from the proposed storm, we get about 5.3 billion cubic feet of water.

Let's check my math: volume is pi * r^2 * h = 3.14 * (9 miles * 5280 ft/mi * 1/2)^2 * 3 ft = 5.3 billion cubic feet of water. Check.

Now for storage: assume a typical canal, trapezoidal shape, 20 feet wide at the bottom, 1 on 3 side slopes, 10 feet deep, 80 feet wide at the top. How much can that canal hold? Area of a trapezoid is h * 1/2(b1 + b2) = 10 * 1/2(20 + 80) = 500 square feet.

Okay, so how many miles of canals of that typical shape will we need to be empty and ready to receive that hypothetical storm surge to save our city? Why, it's just simple division:

5.3 billion cubic feet / 500 square feet = 10.6 million linear feet = 2,015 miles of canals.

Yep, that's the answer. Over two thousand miles of canals to store the water from a hurricane delivering 3 feet of water to the city limits. That's a storm many, many times smaller than Katrina. It's a storm smaller even than Gustav.

What if we make the canals bigger? Double the depth--make them 20 feet deep. Okay, so now I'm calculating that we would need 630 miles of canals that are 140 feet wide at the top. Still a completely ridiculous number. It's less than 10 miles from Lake Pontchartrain to the river, so you're talking at least 63 canals crammed into that space.

So how stupid do you have to be to publish an article with the title, "New Orleans needs scenic canals, not grim levees"? It's idiotic to the nth degree.

Now, please, can we focus on building better levees and quit with the artistic and whimsical ideas about protecting our city?

When levees fail, people die

2010-09-06T19:25:00.001-05:00

That was the thesis of my presentation this year at Rising Tide 5. I titled it, "When can we get some Dam Safety in New Orleans?" because the title, "Levees should be designed and constructed as life safety systems as dams are," just doesn't have the same appeal to the ear.

During my presentation I used Twitter to share some additional information with the audience. I am repeating those links here for those who may have missed them along with some additional resources.

First, the Johnstown, Pennsylvania flood of 1889 remains one of the most horrific dam failures in US history. The web page of the Johnstown Area Heritage Association includes several survivor accounts and eyewitness reports of the terror that flowed down that day. I read parts of the testimony of Mary M. Butler during my presentation.

Although no one has an authoritative count of the current miles of levees in the US, several have attempted it. I used statistics compiled by the American Society of Civil Engineers as presented in their Report Card for America's Infrastructure. And just as elusive is the number of people who actually live in the shadow of levees and depend upon them for their life and safety. I used a 2006 FEMA report which states that 43% of the US population lives in parishes and counties with levees--still not the number of citizens in peril but probably the best guess.

Federal legislation I referenced in my presentation included:
● National Dam Inspection Act (Public Law 92-367) of 1972
● The Reclamation Safety of Dams Act (Public Law 95-578) of 1978
● Water Resources Development Act (Public Law 99-662) of 1986
● Water Resources and Development Act (Public Law 104-303) of 1996
● Dam Safety and Security Act (Public Law 107-310) of 2002

The eye-witness account from Hurricane Katrina I read can be found along with hundreds of other stories and pictures at the Hurricane Digital Memory Bank.

I mentioned my blog about how dismal 100-year level of protection is and I tweeted this link: 100-year protection is not enough.

I also compared the probability of experiencing the 1% annual exceedence event at least once during a 30-year period--26%--to the probability of disaster while playing Russian Roulette, which is 17%. A better explanation of probabilities and what they mean to the average citizen can be found in the ASCE publication So You Live Behind a Levee! and in this reference from USGS, 100-Year Flood–It's All About Chance.

I concluded my presentation with a recommendation to enact a National Levee Safety Program following the recommendations of ASCE and the Association of State Floodplain Managers. I tweeted this link to the ASFPM publication, National Flood Policy Challenges, Levees: The Double-edged Sword, which captures all the main points of my talk, not just the policy recommendations.

The thrust of my presentation is this: As long as we think of levees as protection for houses and furniture, there will be no motivation to increase the level of protection. Houses and furniture can be replaced and the government underwrites the insurance to cover those losses.

We need to talk about levees as serving a higher purpose: levees are often life-safety structures. When levees fail, people die. That’s what’s important and that’s what we should be designing for.

Rising Tide 5 this Saturday

2010-08-26T10:53:00.002-05:00

You may not have heard of Mac McClelland, and thus you haven't realized what you were missing. Here is your opportunity to correct that.

Mac is the human rights reporter for Mother Jones, the famously non-mainstream journal of American progressive thought. And lately, she's been the most steadfast voice for the New Orleans region who wasn't born and raised here.

When the national news tried to say the oil spill wasn't all that bad, Mac took them to task. When they tried to say the oil had simply vanished, Mac took them to the woodshed.

And now she's brought out a Louisville Slugger to respond to the vapid scribblings of a Washington Post reporter who wants you to believe that everything's better now, especially in the Lower Ninth Ward. Oh sure, only 1/10th of the Lower Nine's pre-Katrina population is back, but it's all good, right?

Thankfully, we have Mac at bat for us. Her column at Mother Jones is worth regular reading.

Mac just also happens to be the keynote speaker at the Rising Tide Conference this Saturday. Come on out and hear her in person, and join me in thanking her for being a true friend of New Orleans.

Life largely defined by a tragedy

2010-08-18T20:52:00.000-05:00

NOLA Blogger Michael Homan writes in an op-ed for the local daily that he is "Ready to forgive, but never to forget."

Highly recommended reading as we approach 5 years since Hurricane Katrina.

Benny Maygarden - Gutted

2010-08-15T08:00:00.001-05:00

I remember when Benny Maygarden was gigging with a grinding blues combo called the Backsliders. That was back when Stevie Ray Vaughn was still alive, the Fabulous Thunderbirds were on the charts and Ronald Reagan's address was Pennsylvania Avenue.

Benny worked the harp like a happy child knawing on a cob of corn. It was often hard to tell what part was face, or hands, or harmonica. When he broke to sing into the vocal microphone, it was almost as if he was coming up for air from the ocean of blues.

For his 2009 CD "Come On, If You’re Coming," Benny assembles a powerhouse studio band of blues and swamp rock artists, creating a gutsy and fun set of electric blues in the finest tradition of New Orleans music. Tracks range from the cautionary "Too many Tarzans," to the broken-hearted "Don't Knock," to the easy dance beat of "Let me rock you".

The standout track, not surprisingly, speaks to the hollowness that filled so many houses after the flood-soaked interiors had been stripped down to the studs. "Gutted" tells the story too many of us had to live in concise snapshots: tiny FEMA Travel Trailers, difficulties with the Road Home program, fear of formaldehyde, stressed-out personal relationships, and the struggle to rebuild our homes.

It includes the refrain, "Now I'm gutted. I'm just gutted. Well I ain't moved back in, I'm still just hanging on." It was not just our homes that were violated and left hollow.

Blues done properly is a celebration of life--an acknowledgment of the struggle, yes, but also a declaration of undaunted spirit. In the Post-Katrina world of New Orleans, the struggle is real and ongoing. But the spirit continues to climb.

Benny Maygarden gives us the strength to climb.

The Dirty Dozen Brass Band - What's Going On?

2010-08-04T08:00:00.004-05:00

Ray Nagin never sounded better. Welling up through the opening beats of "What's Going On," the angry plea of the chief executive captures the moment perfectly.

Chaos. Fear. Abandonment.

This was New Orleans in the days after Hurricane Katrina struck. Floodwalls failed. Levees washed away. The city, the state, the Federal government almost totally overwhelmed to the point of uselessness. It was triple a disaster: what happened before, during and after almost killed an American city.

The soulful horns of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band pull it back together. In their 2006 release, "What's Going On," they re-invent the classic Marvin Gaye song, reminding us of the timeless message that "war is not the answer."

It was not then and it is not now.

In stark contrast to impotent Mayor Nagin, Chuck D. powerfully calls out the political and moral failures that allowed this tragedy to happen. Lyrics are not included in the CD and I've also searched online with no success. So the lyrics I post here are my best effort at transcribing Chuck D's rap.

"What's going on
When all them guns is drawn?
Here's a memo--remember?
There's a few wars going on--
A couple overseas and on my front lawn."

"No Child Left Behind, what?
You think we're all blind,
Well even the blind coulda seen her
Aftermath of Katrina."

At first listen the song might appear to struggle with itself, the easy pace and laid-back horn arrangements moving in a steady shuffle while Chuck D of Public Enemy fame raps angrily in sharp staccato. But the two meld and counter each other in rhythmic and harmonic ways that surprised me each time I listened to it.

What was going on--when the levees and walls were first so poorly designed? When Congress failed to properly finance their construction? When politicians allowed citizens to build and live in an unsafe city? When local, state and federal responders almost all failed to respond? These questions flooded our thoughts and actions during the disaster and for months and years afterwards.

Chuch D and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, for their part, suggest that a nation distracted and diverting its resources to wars in far away places might not ever be able to prevent or properly respond when such disasters occur. In this observation, they maintain the anti-war sentiment of the original song. It's a message that needs to be repeated, unfortunately, over and over again.

Paul Soniat - Below the Water Line

2010-07-28T08:00:00.000-05:00

Paul Soniat sings and plays piano.

That's all it is.

And that's all it needs to be.

Rising to meet the challenge

2010-07-24T08:00:00.001-05:00

In the face of the almost unspeakable destruction here in 2005, a group of local Bloggers resolved to sponsor a conference on the future of New Orleans. That was the first Rising Tide Conference.

Each year the conference has improved upon the year before with engaging programming and activist networking unlike any event in the city. This year the conference is again taking place in the immediate aftermath of an event of almost unspeakable destruction.

Rising Tide V will be on Saturday, August 28 in the larger venue of The Howlin' Wolf in the warehouse district of NOLA. Find all the details at www.risingtidenola.com.

When you register, be sure to order this year's beautiful poster and a t-shirt created by local artist (and blogger) Greg Peters. And if you want to be a part of the Oilzilla relief effort, you can join Rising Tide in support of Second Harvest Food Bank the day before the conference. You must sign up in advance to volunteer.

The Andy J. Forest Band - Let'em Die

2010-07-20T08:00:00.000-05:00

I first saw Andy J. Forest perform at the Mirliton Festival in Bywater a couple years after Hurricane Katrina. He and the band put out a sturdy rendition of 3-chord blues appropriately punctuated with fuzzed-out guitar solos and grinding harmonica. I bought their 2007 CD "Real Stories" shortly afterwards and I’ve enjoyed it ever since.

The first cut tells the saddest story of them all, the story of Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath with just the right sardonic tone to keep it from rummaging too deeply into the most painful memories. Forest applies the blame generously: everyone gets a shout out: from Mayor Nagin to the Army Corps of Engineers to the President, who provides the title line, “Let’em Die.”

The song is well paced with an outstanding harp solo and sturdy guitar riffing that is sure to snare the table-top drummer in all of us. Forest's phrasing helps him fit all the right words into his lyrics, a technique that almost approaches modern rapping. But have no fear, "Let'em Die" is a blues song from top to bottom with a chorus of singers repeating the refrain like a church choir might repeat a prayer.

It's a dark view of what went down in 2005, but in the tradition of all great blues, revisiting those tragic events seems to provide the will and the energy to go on. The CD was well received and even won a local "Best of the Beat" award for blues.

Bonerama - Mr. Go

2010-07-14T09:40:00.000-05:00

It starts with horns blowing a tight and urgent alarm. It builds with intensity and anxiety like the soundtrack of a Hitchcock film. And then it breaks into a smooth groove that can only be achieved by a great New Orleans brass line.

Bonerama retells the tale of "Mr. Go," that much hated shipping channel that runs from near Michoud in New Orleans East out to the Gulf of Mexico.

"Twenty feet of water on my crowd,
Mr. Go you bringing me down.
Cypress swamps used to be,
Mr. Go it's broken these.
St. Bernard and Plaquemines,
Lower Nine coming back again.
I don't know what's been said,
Mr. Go you killed them dead."

Craig Klein wrote and sings the lament, delivered at a slightly slower pace than a march, but with an arrangement that soldiers forward through the blues and into post-K victory.

From the CD "Bringing it Home," "Mr. Go" is just one of the outstanding tracks on this 2007 collection of bone-crunching covers and brass-jam originals. Bonerama bills itself as a rock band, and sometimes they really are. But that label limits their artistry in so many ways.

Just listen to the creative use of the sousaphone on this track. New Orleans brass bands know how to toot the tuba at the end of each chord progression, but Bonerama gives the lowest horn an entire solo lead toward the end of the song. That alone is worth the price of admission.

Bonerama recorded "Bringing it Home" at Tipitina's so the CD captures all the spontaneity of a live show that you wish you had been a part of. Regular readers of this blog will know that science does not validate the popular belief that the MR-GO served as a "storm surge super highway" during Hurricane Katrina. But I will not quibble with facts here--this is good rock'n'roll and I love it.

Undaunted joy of NOLA music

2010-07-14T09:10:00.004-05:00

In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, we New Orleaneans had to endure the endless cast of professional pundits and social commentators telling us that New Orleans was "worth saving" because we gave two great gifts to America: food and music.

Forget that all American citizens deserve equal protection under law and the basic rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That seemed to be not enough to warrant serious response to the crisis. America needed more. America needed to know that if bad things happened to New Orleans, bad things would happen to America’s food and music.

But that is not what I want to blog about today. No, today and in several weekly blog posts to follow, I want to acknowledge the tremendous contributions New Orleans has made to music in America and even, in the world. And I want to focus in particular on the impact Katrina had on the music of this city.

It is said that, "Blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling down." Lester Bangs once noted that rock'n'roll is "The sound of restless youth." And it was George Harrison who once opined that pop music is just "Happy songs about sad things."

Citizens of NOLA have boatloads of all of the above. Local musicians, experiencing it probably more than the average New Orleanean, have found ways to express these emotions in music.

Feelings of sadness, frustration, doubt and, yes, conviction, courage and perseverance are expressed in many post-K compositions. And on top of it all, overwhelming, undaunted joy.

Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some of my favorite local expressions of what the combined forces of nature and politics have done to coastal Louisiana--and the unbridled determination to rise above.

When I listen to these songs, I alternately feel the sadness and the joy, the tragedy and the triumph. It's what makes all great music great, and, in my admittedly biased opinion, it's what makes New Orleans music the greatest of all.

Enjoy!

Exhibit One: Mr. Go by Bonerama

What does it take?

2010-06-29T21:25:00.005-05:00

Nominations are now open for this year's Ashley Morris Award to be presented at the Rising Tide V conference.

What does it take to get an Ashley?

► The unflinching courage to tell it like it is.

► A biting sense of humor.

► The ability to put political fakers in their place.

► Powerful skill at making a point.

► An indomitable love of family and hope for the future of New Orleans.

Nominations open now. Find out who is selected on August 28.

Getting ready for Rising Tide V

2010-06-26T11:38:00.003-05:00

Over the to left there I've put a big 'ole button for Rising Tide V. That's the annual new media conference on the future of New Orleans I've been happy to be associated with for the last few years.

Registration is just $20 and it includes a full day of great speakers and presentations, a light breakfast, a hearty lunch, and the unique chance to meet some of the people behind the voices in the NOLA Bloggers community.

The official line-up of speakers will be announced shortly, but as an "insider" I happen to know that someone who regularly writes at this blog will probably be part of the program. The keynote speaker is typically the best of all, of course, but I'm afraid I can't divulge any information on who that might be this year. Just remember that we had actor and activist Harry Shearer and author and levee board member John Barry in the past, so the bar is set high--and we intend to move it higher.

To keep up with this developing story, plug into Rising Tide via your favorite social media platform:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RisingTideNOLA

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/RisingTide

Blog: http://www.risingtideblog.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.risingtidenola.com/

And go ahead and register now before the cost goes up next month.

See you at Rising Tide V!

Just sayin'

2010-06-24T22:34:00.005-05:00

Jeffrey over at the Yellow Blog compares and contrasts a major difference between living in New Orleans and living somewhere else.

Exhibit A: Lakers fans celebrate victory.

Exhibit B: Saints fans celebrate victory.

The evidence is all there.

Nuff said.

Calling out the haters

2010-06-19T10:53:00.002-05:00

I expect trash talk on talk radio. The radio station operators deliver it in super-sized portions because their target audience responds to it and keeps coming back for more. But I have higher expectations from the print medium.

Editors at The Washington Post this week demonstrated they do not have similarly high expectations of us.

In a story about the "suspicious" outcome of an election in South Carolina, it is suggested that the election was tainted by Louisiana. We may well marvel at the imaginative excuses South Carolina Democrats are concocting to explain the unexpected outcome of their recent primary; after all, desperate people will do desperate things.

But what shocked me is the absolute cavalier and reckless manner in which The Washington Post offers credence to the wild and unfounded accusation.

"Louisiana, after all, does political shenanigans more colorfully and brazenly than most," writes staff writer Mr. Manuel Roig-Franzia.

A reputable journalist would have written, “There is absolutely no evidence or fact to support the accusation.”

Ignoring the fact that political shenanigans are epidemic throughout America at all levels of politics, The Washington Post smugly invites readers to roll their eyes in group derision and disgust at the mere mention of the Bayou State. I wonder to what other dehumanizing stereotypes does Mr. Roig-Franzia subscribe?

You can easily imagine the thought process that drove the publication of this story. In lieu of fact-checking and respect for fellow Americans, the Post dumps mightily on an entire state with a chortle and a wink.

“Heck, fellas, it's LOUISIANA--what evidence is needed?”

I wrote to the Post to complain but received no response. Fortunately my sister-in-law in Virginia, who first alerted me to this insult of the entire population of Louisiana, also wrote. Her letter was published today.

It was suggested to me that defending the honor of Louisiana politicians is a fool’s campaign. But I don’t see this as defending our soiled past; this is defending our future. It is just as much about calling out the hypocrisy of the Post to call attention to the splinter in our eye while overlooking the timber in their own.

As my sister-in-law pointed out, “Convicted former Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards is doing time in the penitentiary while convicted former D.C. mayor Marion Barry is doing time on the city council. Did somebody say ‘brazen’?”

Prove me wrong

2010-06-17T21:45:00.004-05:00

So the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:

"We will do what it takes. We will stay as long as it takes to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives."

Remember those words?

That was in 2005.

And in 2010, the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:

"We will fight this spill with everything we’ve got for as long as it takes...And we will do whatever’s necessary to help the Gulf Coast and its people recover from this tragedy."

So forgive me if I'm cynical, because I am.

I've often said that the only real difference between the two major political parties is the color of their neckties. And so far, when I compare the response to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita to the response to the current oil-pocalypse in the Gulf of Mexico, I don't see much improvement in 5 years.

President Obama, prove me wrong. Show us that your words are not simply more campaign rhetoric. Make me take my words back and write a blog about how you turned out to be a man of your word. Because I'll do it--I'll gladly eat crow online for all the world to see.

The next move is yours, Mr. President.

Beware small, individual decisions

2010-05-16T22:10:00.001-05:00

Several of the NOLA Bloggers are drawing parallels between the ongoing BP oil geyser disaster and the catastrophic failure of floodwalls protecting New Orleans in 2005. I certainly agree that there may be similarities in these two different engineering debacles, but we have to be careful.

There is still a lot we don't know about what happened out in the Gulf of Mexico last month and why all the safeguards, standards, precautions, fail-safe systems, redundancies and the workers who lost their lives were not able to avoid or contain the dangerous conditions of mineral extraction. Until we do know--and that may be years--we need to keep an open mind to all the possibilities.

In contrast to the BP disaster, we now know a great deal about what happened and why before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. At different locations where constructed features did not perform properly we know there were specific reasons that those point failures occurred.

But the most significant and dangerous condition was not the result of a single point of failure or isolated bad engineering decision. The most devastating factor in my opinion was what is known as "The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions."

Simply put, during the long trek from project conception to operation, a long list of changes and compromises were made that individually didn't seem significant but which added up in a project doomed to failure. Some of those decisions may have been the result of budget pressures, or local preferences, or just ill-informed good intentions. Poor Richard advised that small strokes fell great oaks; The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions can be viewed in that manner.

As we learn more about the BP oil geyser disaster, I won't be surprised if the news media, politicians and many private citizens clamor for a single point of failure, a "smoking gun" that can be blamed. There may well be one. But I would not be surprised to learn that a series of decisions made by different people at different times had a large role to play in undermining the overall safety and reliability of the drilling operation.

(If you want to read the whole sordid tale about how The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions left New Orleans vulnerable, check out the Hurricane Protection Decision Chronology, or read the synopsis as reported in The New York Times here: Engineers Faulted on Hurricane System.)

(Editorial edits on 17 MAY 10)

Treme media blitz

2010-04-10T21:33:00.003-05:00

It's exciting and a little bit frightening. The new HBO show from David Simon is going to premiere tomorrow. Treme, a little-known but essential neighborhood in New Orleans, will soon become a household word.

Already the media blitz is on. David Simon was on The Colbert Report this week, and he gave credit to Ashley Morris for informing the character played by John Goodman in the show. The local newspaper has run almost daily stories on the show including a quick look at some of the real people who inspired some of the characters and events we will see. NPR, The New York Times, USA Today are all on the story--only Tiger Woods is getting more exposure this week.

For those looking for the real story, the true view from actual New Orleans writers, let me suggest Back of Town, a blog that promises to evaluate and parse every aspect of Treme. Knowing David Simon's love of complex characters and intricate storylines, the Back of Town bloggers will stay busy in the coming weeks. And they have all the links to the aforementioned coverage from other sources, too.

New Orleans was all over TV in late 2005. I'm hopeful this time New Orleans will be seen in a better light.

Treme: Looking back

2010-04-08T21:07:00.001-05:00

I googled my house again today. My previous house. The one we used to live in. Until 2005.

I zoomed in until I could see the fallen tree in the backyard, and the play gym my daughter loved to climb on, and my white Corolla in the driveway.

None of those things are there anymore. Ruined by floodwater then demolished and carted away by demolition workers, they exist only in memory and in pictures.

Google Earth keeps them fresh for me.

I don't know why I do it, but every now and then I like to google my house to see it again. It makes me feel sad, and regretful, and happy, and proud. All these emotions assault me, they wash over me like the rising tide of flood water certainly flowed over and through my neighborhood.

One of these days I'm going to zoom in on Google Earth, and instead of brown, dead lawns and lifeless streets I'll see vacant lots and greenery. One of these days the numbing, rampant destruction will fade from view. One day, I'll stop being sad about what happened to me, my family, my friends, my city, and my nation when the floodwalls failed.

Or not.

Today, I have a "new" house in Faubourg St. John. I have new furniture and new clothes. I still work at the same place, but I have a new job and a new car. Almost five years later and a lot has changed. I've changed. A lot of that change is good.

But I keep going looking back.

There's a new drama premiering this weekend that takes place New Orleans, and I'm eagerly anticipating it. Because the story starts just a few weeks after Katrina, New Orleans is going to look brown and lifeless--just like those aerial photos of my old house I keep looking at.

I'm hoping "Treme" can get it right. New Orleans took one monumental beating in 2005, some saying the city would not survive. Many souls were lost, but we did not lose our soul. Houses were made unlivable, but we didn't lose our sense of home. The darkest hours this city probably ever saw could not extinguish the light of hope from its citizens.

New Orleans survived. Against all opponents--weather, politics, hatred, apathy and greed just to name a few--we persevered.

It's healthy to look back. We need to know where we've been to understand where we're going. Even after all the ruined houses are demolished or repaired, after all the flood-borne damage and blemishes are removed and Google Earth loads new photos of New Orleans, we will still remember.

But I hope we will remember not only the failures, but the incredible strength of humanity on display in New Orleans in 2005 and since.

That's the story "Treme" needs to tell. That's the story that needs to be told.

Common New Orleans

2010-03-20T13:49:00.000-06:00

We're uncomfortable with each other. We sit elbow to elbow and make great effort to not make eye contact. If we do dare look at the person next to us, we do so with utmost stealth, in terror of getting caught looking. We dare not speak to the strangers next to us because that might be rude, or we might unleash a bore, a religious zealot, or someone otherwise totally unlike us.

Flying coach class across America, our knees often touch but our lives never intersect.

I don't have this difficulty with strangers in New Orleans. At the grocery, in restaurants, going about my daily business, I talk to people. And they seem to not mind it from what I can tell.

We may have never met, but we have so much in common. New Orleans is a small town and we're all connected in crime, weather, celebrations and politics. Because New Orleans has its own culture, its own unique food, holidays and traditions, we have shared experiences like no other city in America I know of.

At the seminar I attended in Seattle this week, I was seated at a table surrounded by complete strangers. People I've never met, worked with, or even known existed before we sat next to each other that first day. But the connections were easy. The introductions were natural and friendly.

Even though we had never met, we knew before a word was spoken that we had common interests. We all worked for the Federal government. We were all at a point in our careers that we were all participating in the same seminar.

That's all it takes--one mutually recognized commonality.

We have that in New Orleans. Nobody is ever really a stranger here. It's one of the reasons I love coming home.

Says you!

2010-02-20T14:39:00.004-06:00

How many of us have heard children arguing:

Nu uh! Yeah Huh! Nu uh! Yeah Huh! Nu uh! Yeah Huh! Nu uh! Yeah Huh!

It's as pointless as it is annoying. Sadly, a lot of what I hear on talk radio and on certain Internet discussion boards is exactly like this.

Americans seem to have totally lost their grip with objective reality. Scientific facts are now up for debate. Historical facts are questioned ad nauseam, while conspiracy theories are discussed as if they have the same standing as historical facts.

Leonard Pitts, Jr. recently relayed such an encounter with a reader.* Pitts notes that, "We are a people estranged from critical thinking, divorced from logic, alienated from even objective truth." His observations echo Susan Jacoby's recent book, "The Age of American Unreason."

On more than one occasion I have been asked if I "believe" in evolution or if I "believe" in global warming, as if the validity of such scientific facts relied at all upon faith.

I made the mistake of listening to the "Walton and Johnson" show one morning and received a hearty dose of modern post-intellectualism. In what is advertised to be a humorous program, the hosts relentlessly bashed all things liberal and scientific like snarky school boys blurting out insults about their romantic rivals.

Facts and information from reputable sources were absent. Instead, the program mostly consisted of reading odd news items and then drawing outrageous conclusions about how the story proved either the validity of their own political, social and economic views or discredited the views of those who thought differently. There was a lot of back and forth, "Yeah, that's right," and, "See, that's what we've been saying."

I guess I understand why they left New Orleans years ago to join their contrarian comrades in Houston. What is disturbing is that they are popular enough to be heard beyond Texas and in markets such as New Orleans. Does anyone find their program funny? Are there really enough shallow-thinking, gullible listeners to sustain the program? The answer to the second question is obviously yes.

One thing upon which I did find I could agree with Walton and Johnson: America appears to be on the decline. And these guys are a perfect example of why.

*Note: I first read this editorial in The Times-Picayune but could not find it posted on their web page.

Touching Saints victory

2010-02-11T01:28:00.001-06:00

You're probably not supposed to touch it. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's bad for it if you do.

But it seems that everyone who gets an opportunity does in fact touch it--and they touch it as much as they can.

I don't know what other teams and coaches have done with the Lombardi Trophy, but I've certainly never seen anyone before the Saints actually encourage fans to rub their unwashed hands over it. Surely the smooth sterling silver football on a pedestal was not meant to be so handled. Yet that's what the Saints have been doing with it ever since a little after 9pm Sunday night.

Not just hold it high for all to see, mind you. Not just carry it around or put on public display. No sir. After the festivities had ended at the Super Bowl, Coach Sean Payton made a point to bring the trophy over to the sideline where Saints fans were gathered. They leaned over the railing and he held up that symbol of victory so that they could all touch it.

He did it again when the team returned to New Orleans the next day. Coach Payton held the most beautiful reward in the entire football universe up through the sun roof of his car. Fans lining the road reached out to touch it, like religious pilgrims yearning to touch the hem of a holy man's robe.

That's perfectly fitting in my opinion.

Everyone in the Saints organization has consistently maintained that the victory in Super Bowl XLIV belongs to the fans. It's our team, and our trophy. We paid for it--not just in public support for the Superdome, the Saints training facility and the annual support from the state treasury. We paid for it in years of tickets and logo shirts and "Dome Foam.".

Even more than that, we paid for it with loyalty, hope and perseverance. We paid for it in our own blood, toil, tears and sweat. So much toil. So many tears.

All paid off now. All paid off in the simple elegance of a 22-inch tall, 7-pound trophy.

By the time the Lombardi Trophy is finally positioned in a glass case somewhere for long-term display, that new trophy will probably not look so new anymore. In fact, don’t' be surprised if it looks about as battered and tested as a trophy of at least 43 years of age. And wouldn't that be appropriate?

A portfolio of responses

2009-12-29T20:19:00.003-06:00

As we prepare to cross that imaginary line from 2009 into 2010, here's a question worth reflection: What are YOU doing to reduce your vulnerability to flooding?

Long before New Orleans filled with water, back when the name "Katrina" was not associated with the ugly images of human despair and physical destruction, our cousins across the pond were worried about flooding.

No, not the Dutch. This time I'm talking about the Brits.

And they weren't just worrying--they have been continuously reassessing the threats and developing appropriate responses. I talked briefly about this in my presentation during the Rising Tide conference in 2007.

The British, you may or may not know, have been fighting coastal and river flooding for hundreds of years. Their signature project is the Thames Barrier, a set of gates which protects London from storm surges pushing up the river into the city of 7.5 million. The target level of protection is 0.1% (1-in-1,000 chance per year).

The Thames Barrier ranks as the second largest flood protection barrier in the world. London becomes more vulnerable to inundation each year because of sea level rise and the on-going tectonic tilting of the ancient island. The current project is expected to protect the city only until about the year 2030.

Studies are already underway to decide what to do to protect the city beyond 2030. An April 2004 report from the UK's Foresight study group lays out the problem and initiates the dialogue for finding the solution. Here are some of the thoughts from the "Future Flooding" report published more than a year before Hurricane Katrina:

"Flood defences protect not only people and private properties, but also vital amenities and public assets, including hospitals, the emergency services, schools, municipal buildings and the transport infrastructure. Disruption of these by flooding can have major knock-on effects for business and society."

We saw this in the spot shortages of gasoline and the spike in prices in the weeks after Katrina. We are still feeling this now as the New Orleans area labors with a limited support system of hospitals and schools.

"The human cost of flooding cannot be measured by statistics alone… There will be mental-health consequences. Besides the considerable stress of extensive damage, the threat of repeat flooding, coupled with the possible withdrawal of insurance cover can make properties unsaleable, and cause long-term depression in the victims."

How many of us can say, "Been there, done that"? The effects of flooding linger for years after the water has gone down.

"The socially disadvantaged will be hardest hit. The poor are less able to afford flooding insurance and less able to pay for expensive repairs. People who are ill or who have disabilities will be more vulnerable to the immediate hazard of a flood and to health risks due to polluted floodwaters."

In fact statistics show that the elderly join the poor in their vulnerability. The death rate of elderly was many times that of younger people trapped in the flood.

"Many of the drivers that could have the most impact are also the most uncertain. Some of this uncertainty relates to scientific understanding – for example, uncertainties in how to model the climate. However, other sources of uncertainty are inescapable – such as the extent to which the international community will succeed in reducing greenhouse-gas emissions. It is therefore important to develop policies that can cope with a wide range of possible futures, and which can respond flexibly to an evolving world."

Flexibility? Good luck. Neither the people nor government at any level seem to be ready to be flexible. Worse, the focus remains on the effects of hurricanes and their devastation. When are we going to address the causes and ways to prevent devastation?

"It will be important to manage the layout and functioning of our cities so they can adapt to future changes in rainfall patterns. Approaches such as the creation of new green corridors and the maintenance of existing undeveloped spaces (including brownfield) would provide ‘safety valves’ for the storage and passage of floodwaters when the drainage networks become overloaded. They could also bring substantial sustainability benefits relating to the aesthetic and amenity value of water in towns. However, such schemes might require the abandonment of parts of existing urban areas, with councils and other agencies buying up properties to create new open areas."

Anybody remember the Bring New Orleans Back plan? The City Council declared it DEAD ON ARRIVAL. The BNOB plan had the nerve to recommend selective rebuilding and rehabitation of the city, a perfectly logical, practical and effective way to deal with the situation. Which is why it was murdered on the steps of City Hall by a mob of politicians with daggers.

But the most compelling part of the report for me is the constant theme that there is no single solution. There is no one course of action that will mitigate all risks. In fact, there is no combination of actions that can mitigate all risks. And to make the task more difficult, some of the factors are clouded in uncertainty, so actions need to be scalable and there need to be contingency actions ready to implement if the need arises.

The authors of this report call for "a portfolio of responses."

What this means is simply that no single medicine will provide the cure. Just as a doctor might prescribe medicine, exercise and a change of diet for common ailments, we will need a multi-faceted program to keep our coastal areas healthy.

Levees, walls and gates are the obvious measures we can employ. They can provide a great deal of protection for smaller storms.

But it can't stop there.

We need to be thinking about multiple lines of levee defences with areas of storage in between. We need to be thinking about moving critical infrastructure out of harm's way. We need to be thinking about elevating homes and businesses that remain in harm's way. And we need to be planning a total evacuation when the "big one" comes calling.

We need a portfolio of responses.

As we enter the new year, this is certainly worth some thought. The levees and floodwalls are being redesigned and rebuilt to reduce our vulnerability to flooding. What is the State of Louisiana doing? What is the City of New Orleans doing?

What are YOU doing to reduce your vulnerability to flooding?

The reason for the season

2009-12-21T12:47:00.002-06:00

The sun rose this morning, right on schedule and exactly as predicted, at 6:52 a.m. Central Standard Time. It will set at 5:05 p.m., giving New Orleans a net 10 hours and 13 minutes of daylight on the day of the Winter Solstice.

If this discussion seems technical and nerdy, take that as a sign of progress. Most modern people just don't worry about the length of days so much anymore. Unless you're engaged in agrarian work or your livelihood is otherwise directly impacted by the amount of daylight, the cycle of days is just a novelty, an esoteric event of little note.

Once upon a time, the length of days was of vital importance. Shorter days and colder weather were feared because they often brought hunger and death. Superstitions arose to explain why the sun, the source of warmth and life, would seem to lose its power each year. And rituals were devised to encourage the sun's return to full strength.

Thanks to science and the work of astronomers and mathematicians over the centuries and including today, we know there is nothing magical or mystical about Winter Solstice. We know that it is just a particular moment in the ongoing journey of our Earth around Sol, our sun. We know that formulas comprehensible by any math major demonstrably predict with convincing accuracy and precision that the laws of physics apply perfectly to the motion of the planets and the pattern of seasons.

Winter Solstice used to be a time to wallow in fear and uncertainty. People wondered if the "god" of the sun would abandon us. Later we created rituals based on superstition to replace that fear with hope for rebirth. Angels and miracles assured us that the "Son" would conquer the darkness and save us.

Today, we can all but ignore the passing of the Winter Solstice, and for that we can thank science.

It's no coincidence that so many important days of the calendar all occur on or about the Winter Solstice. New Year's, Christmas and Hanukkah were all planned to coincide with this shortest day of the year. So were many other religious rituals and observances long forgotten.

But I like to remember that they all come back to this: Winter Solstice. Although it may seem blasphemous to some, it is the real "reason for the season."

Runs with Wolves

2009-11-28T22:19:00.000-06:00

Everyone who knows our family knows this: I run with cats, Darling Wife runs with chickens and Precious Daughter runs with wolves.

I've always been a cat person. We've had at least one cat for the past 20 years, and we've had as many as five at any one time. In 2005 we evacuated with four cats, two of which still live with us today.

Last weekend Darling Wife and I found ourselves at the mall in the middle of an SPCA Pet Adoption event. I was ready to adopt a cat right away, but it took all of five minutes for Darling Wife to commit to a sweet little grey and white tabby. We brought her home and introduced her to our two other cats, Smudge and Callie, and after a few days of perfunctory hissing and growling I predict they will be getting along just fine by New Year's Day.

Cats are not Darling Wife's first choice for pet. A city girl from birth, she has always pined for a romantic life on a farm. For many years I had her convinced that city ordinances prohibited keeping chickens. She finally looked it up herself a few years ago and discovered that keeping backyard chickens is legal within city limits. (Curse you, Internet and your easy access to information!)

And so it was three years ago we were living in a FEMA Travel Trailer on our vacant property in Gentilly and I spent several weekends building a deluxe chicken coop that Darling Wife would dub, "Poulet Chalet." When we moved to the higher ground of Esplanade Ridge, we paid movers to lift the coop up and over the fence of our new yard. Chickens, we have since learned, are not uncommon in this part of town.

Yes, we get eggs from our fowl, but eggs are not a favorite food of Precious Daughter. Being more or less obsessed with Japanese Anime nowadays, she prefers eating a big bowl of Ramen noodles with chopsticks. Precious Daughter has always been an avid reader, devouring classic books such as "Lord of the Flies" for school and "Tegami Bachi" and "Naruto" manga books for fun.

Like most teenage girls, Precious Daughter has also read the "Twilight" series of books, an angst-filled teen romance involving a depressing human girl, a brooding vampire, and a fun-loving werewolf. Fans of the series love to debate whether protagonist Bella should marry Edward the vampire or Jacob the werewolf--as if either represents any sort of happy option in the normal sense of things. Precious Daughter's loyalties are firmly in the camp of "Team Jacob," and she has a T-shirt that proudly indicates so.

It says, "I run with wolves."

I took her to see "New Moon," the latest movie installment of the series, the other night. Surprisingly, I found it a fairly entertaining movie. But perhaps most fun was experiencing it with Precious Daughter, who was openly delighted every time Jacob delivered a great line, transformed into a wolf or simply took off his shirt.

I'll leave it to the psychoanalysts of the Internet to interpret what it says about us that we love our cats, chickens and wolves, respectively, almost as much as we love each other. My only worry is that Darling Wife has hinted recently about getting a goat.

When trod upon he explodeth with a great noise

2009-11-16T20:12:00.005-06:00

As part of her assignments in Louisiana history class this year, Precious Daughter has been reading the ruminations of Mr. Lafcadio Hearn.

Not all of his observations find a favorable audience with 13-year-olds, but one recently seems to have piqued her interest. She came home from school the other day eager to share the following passage with me.

I admit to at first being entertained by its repulsive imagery. But upon further reflection, I think I can respectably enjoy it for its good humor and style. Most of all, though, I find it leaves me with a satisfying (if oddly inspired) feeling of connection with the inhabitants of New Orleans 120 years ago.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wednesday, October 13, 1880

THE FESTIVE

He maketh ghostly noises in the dead waste and middle of the night.

He hath a passion for the green and crimson of beautifully bound books, and after he has passed over them they look as if they had been sprinkled with a shower of vitriol.

He loveth to commit suicide by drowning himself in bowls of cream or stifling himself in other eatables or drinkables.

When trod upon he explodeth with a great noise.

In this semi-tropical climate he sometimes attaineth to the dimensions of a No. 12 shoe.

He haunteth printing offices, and fatteneth upon the contents of the editor’s paste-pot, and upon the bindings of newspaper files.

He haunteth kitchens and occasionally getteth himself baked and boiled.

Five hundred thousand means have been invented for his destruction; but none availeth.

If a house be burnt down to the ground he will momentarily disappear; but when the house is rebuilt, he cometh back again.

His virtues are these: He amuseth young kittens, who practice mouse-hunting with him. Also is the deadly enemy of the cimer lectaries. He is used for medicinal purposes.

But none care to recognize his good qualities, because of the mischievous and disgusting propensities, and all creatures wage unrelenting war against him, and nevertheless he continueth to propagate his species and to drown himself in cream.

An invitation to blog

2009-11-04T12:11:00.002-06:00

Only technically superior computer users and the most gifted writers can blog, right?

Au contraire, mes amis. Blogging is, by definition, a personal journal. You can blog for an audience of one or two, or you can blog for an audience of millions. You can keep your blog private and viewable only by yourself or family and friends, or you can open it to the blogosphere and see what happens.

If you're a blog reader and haven't yet taken the plunge into blogging yourself, here's your chance to get some sage advice to get started. The good people of Rising Tide Conference are sponsoring a free workshop, "Blogging 101: An introduction to blogging class for the utter novice." They'll give you some good advice on how to start, what to do and what to avoid, and they'll help you get plugged in to the community of NOLA Bloggers (if that's what you want).

What kind of blogger lurks in you? Wikipedia has a concise description of the various types and purposes of blogs. Even if you're on the fence, come out to the Blogging 101 workshop and find out if you're ready to stop reading and start blogging.

Event: Blogging 101: An introduction to blogging class for the utter novice.
When: Thursday, November 12, 6:30 to 8:30 pm
Where: Bridge Lounge, 1201 Magazine Street in New Olreans.
Cost: Absolutely Free
RSVP: Call 504-250-1643 or email editor@thechicory.com

See you there!

Two tired

2009-10-29T21:08:00.000-06:00

At 9 o'clock my Darling Wife will say, "I can hear my pillow calling."

And she means it. Try as I have over the 22 years we've been married (and even for the several years we dated), it is a rare event for her to be awake past 10 PM and about as rare as a blue moon that she'll be up after 11.

Yes, she grew up in New Orleans, a city famous in part because our bars never close. Somehow the gene that makes us able to stay up all night is not a part of her DNA.

In contrast, I used to routinely see 2 AM and sometimes saw the sunrise without having gone to sleep. I used to get a "second wind" at 10 or 11 that kept me going until the music ended or I had no more money for beer.

I'm afraid I'm not much better than my Darling Wife nowadays. I blame age and the pressures of work. I can still function on 5 hours of sleep but I find I need at least 7 to have a good day.

And so we hit the hay earlier and earlier each year. We're just too tired--or perhaps we're two tired--to stay up late.

But I'm not complaining. We have a comfortable bed and two cats who are also eager to curl up and sleep.

On cool evenings like tonight, we have a window open so I can hear the slumbering noises of New Orleans as I fall to sleep. I also hear the motorcycles and the loud car radios of those who have not yet succumbed to the onslaught of age yet.

Peace be upon them and everyone in the city tonight.

"Never again" must not fade to a whisper

2009-10-15T07:19:00.005-05:00

In February of 2008, Senator and presidential candidate Barrack Obama visited New Orleans during his whistle-stop campaign of "Hope."

I joined my fellow NOLA Bloggers in welcoming the lanky lawman from the Land of Lincoln. But in true blogger fashion, we all nit-picked about one thing or another that was or was not said. (Mine had to do with terminology.)

As he visits New Orleans today for the first time as POTUS, here is what I would like to hear from him today: vision.

It’s a pretty straightforward proposition as I see it. As a candidate for and now incumbent president, I did not/do not expect Mr. Obama to have all the answers. I do not expect him to have all the cures.

I expect him to have vision. I expect the Chief Executive to have a concept of what he thinks this land of liberty must look like, and to communicate that idea to citizens, and to inspire us to willingly join in making that dream into reality.

When he visited here 20 months ago, Mr. Obama’s vision for New Orleans was potent: “never again,” he said.

Think about how much is said with those two small words.

“Never again.”

Not, “Next time the city is decimated.” Not, “Things are better, but it’s still very dangerous.” Not, “Let’s hope our luck holds out.”

“Never again” is a vision for action. It is a vision for prosperity and purpose. It is the vision we need in New Orleans, in coastal Louisiana, and in a nation with so many basic needs that are ignored for convenience.

No, Mr. Obama will not grab a shovel and start digging the clay to fortify our levees. He will not pull the levers on the pile-driving rig to push sheet pile into the ground. He won’t even pull out his Diner’s Club card and pay for the astounding amount of work that needs to be done to protect our great city.

What I would hope to hear from the president today when he visits New Orleans is a clear statement of his vision.

Another president, speaking about another daunting goal, articulated his vision by acknowledging the difficulty in achieving the goals he had set out for the nation. He told Americans quite plainly that we would strive for lofty goals, "not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too."

In his own words, Mr. Obama said, “The words ‘never again’ - spoken so often in those weeks after Katrina - must not fade to a whisper.”

Since ascending to the office, the president has not to my knowledge repeated those words or anything else that establishes his vision for New Orleans.

That’s what we need from Mr. Obama today.

Mellytawn Festival

2009-10-13T20:05:00.000-05:00

I think I was in high school before I discovered how ridiculously mangled my pronunciation of mirliton was.

It was in the middle of a conversation about who-can-possibly-recall that I said it, which completely derailed my geeky friend, Anthony.

"What did you just say?"

"We ate mellytawns from my grandmother's back yard," I repeated.

His crumpled face was probably a reflection of the data logjam in his brain and I waited while he closed his eyes and struggled to untangle my words into something he could recognize. I would have not at all been surprised had he blurted, "That does not compute!" in a robotic monotone.

Of course, at first I did not know what I had said that has seized him so. It actually took a few moments for him to parse my statement down to the single word at issue and for him to communicate this back to me.

Finally, he brightened with resolution. "Oh, you mean mirliton!"

Again I repeated it the way I had always pronounced it, the way I had always heard it, the only way I knew to refer to the water-laden, spiny green vegetable that my grandmother served baked and filled with stuffing.

Again my friend corrected me, telling me how it was spelled and urging me to look it up in a dictionary.

Well, I did look it up, and sure enough I discovered that my friend and my dictionary were both wrong!

I thought of this silly moment in my life again when I heard that it's almost time for this year's Mirliton Festival. It's coming on Saturday, November 7 at Markey Park in Bywater. Bands, art and of course, lots of local food including some featuring that funny little mellytawn that as far as I can tell only shows up on tables in New Orleans.

All are invited, but if you see my old friend Anthony, be careful what you say.

Planning for the worst

2009-09-29T23:54:00.003-05:00

The Dutch are the recognized experts in “living with water.” As a nation, the people of the Netherlands have struggled to hold back the sea for hundreds of years. Much like the people of New Orleans, they’ve suffered and prospered thanks to their proximity and intimacy with the sea.

And after multiple setbacks, New Orleans and the Netherlands both insist that humans can and should and shall continue to live and work in the low-lying coastal areas of their choosing.

But here is where we diverge: the Dutch take a holistic approach to “living with water.” Yes, they have gates and walls and levees to keep the water out of their homes, farms and cities.

But they don’t stop there.

The people of the Netherlands understand the need to plan for the worst: sea level rise, more powerful storms in the future, and protection system failures.

You get a hint of this in this recent article on the advice Dutch experts are giving to coastal California communities.

“People realize we can't just raise levees forever. If something goes wrong, you have an entire city that will be flooded in an instant. Water is a fact — we need to do something about it,” said David Van Raalten, project manager for the pilot project between the Netherlands and California and a principal in ARCADIS, an international engineering and consultancy firm.

The article notes that the Dutch have been elevating houses and setting aside land for floodplains. They’ve adopted a multi-tiered strategy that effectively multiplies their safety from flooding.

It is sad to note that New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, not even the Federal government have adopted such strategies. Quite the opposite in fact.

In New Orleans, residents defiantly demanded the “right to rebuild” in even the most flood-prone areas of the city. Local zoning and permitting rules made it all too easy to obtain a building permit to repair severely damaged houses. And the Road Home Program actually penalized homeowners who elected to move to higher ground—especially if they left the state of Louisiana.

We say we admire the Dutch. We say we want to follow their example.

But it’s obvious we don’t really mean it.

RT4: Sinking to New Heights

2009-09-02T23:53:00.000-05:00

As further proof that we in New Orleans are “Sinking to New Heights,” a group of NOLA Bloggers and others who love New Orleans gathered for the our fourth annual conference on the future of our fair city week. Rising Tide IV was, by all accounts and metrics, a huge success.

For the second year, we gathered at the Zeitgeist Multidisciplinary Arts Center on Oretha Castle Haley Blvd on Saturday, August 22. It was a clear and warm day, just right for incubating good thoughts and hatching plans for the new New Orleans. Several speakers and panel discussions ensued to the great delight of all in attendance.

I did not bring by laptop because I knew I would have a hard time sitting in one place all day. I knew I would be moving around talking to friends and fellow bloggers I hadn’t seen in a while, meeting new Internet intermediaries, and of course, helping out here and there as needed since I was on the organizing committee.

So I tried something I’ve never done before: I covered the whole day of activities using Twitter. If you use the hashtag #rt4 you can see all the tweets from me and others who were madly trying to capture the action in reports of 140 characters or less. It was a challenge, but at least I didn’t have to sit in one place all day.

Favorite moments, many captured in tweets throughout the day:

* Author Susan Tucker on the Culture Panel reads an obituary that made reference to the deceased person’s favorite foods and love of cooking. In New Orleans, it really is all about the food.

* Also during the Culture Panel discussion, Ed Buckner observing, “We as a society need to embrace each other just as we embrace the music.” The crowd applauds the radical wisdom of that statement.

* Adrastos, moderator of the Politics Panel, introducing a question about Senator David Vitter by referring to him as, “a human cockroach, which makes him the Keith Richards of Louisiana politics.” (Some would later complain that the panels and indeed the whole conference were loaded with liberals. Thus insulting comments about David Vitter and other Republicans were all too common and obviously popular with the crowd. Okay, conservative bloggers, join us next year and show us what we’re missing.)

* Clancy DuBos from The Gambit newspaper and WWL-TV, comfortably using everyday curse words in his descriptions of how bad things are in NOLA and the political problems we face. Even their own Twitter reporter, @The_Gambit, had to comment on that one: “I think the Rising Tide crowd is amused to hear Clancy cuss like he can't do on @WWLTV.” To me it was a rare show of respect for bloggers from a venerated journalist—talking with us as would neighbors across the fence.

* Leigh, Sharon and Lisa, working tirelessly, selflessly and happily all day at the front table. I helped direct traffic for a bit at the front door, and I just loved overhearing Sharon call friends and strangers alike, “Honey” and “Baby.” We don’t pay them for this and let me tell you, it’s a good thing because we couldn’t afford it.

* Loki, the official emcee of the day, started us off with a Prayer to caffeine. I didn’t write it all down, but it was something along the lines of, “Caffeine is my shepherd, I shall not doze. It maketh me to wake in green pastures. It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses. It restoreth my buzz.” Loki lit the place up from the moment he took the stage. I would not be surprised to learn that he had been up all the night before drinking espresso and eating chocolate covered coffee beans.

* I wish I could say it was my idea to ask him to head up the program this year, but all I can say is I was one of the unanimous and enthusiastic organizers who said, “Hell yes!” when it was suggested. We’ve already asked him back next year.

* I spent a few minutes chatting with Ethan Brown about his new book, “Shake the Devil Off,” which has been getting great press recently in The Gambit and the local daily. After explaining the subject of his book is the true story of a tortured soul who kills his girlfriend and himself probably because of PTSD from service in Iraq and riding out Hurricane Katrina, I tell Ethan it sounds like a great story. But, I add, I don’t think I will be reading it because it sounds really, really depressing. Ethan is so nice--he doesn’t try to talk me into it. He agrees that it’s a very depressing tale.

* Loki, again showering us with his in-your-face energy, led the audience in shouting out the true meaning of FYYFF following the presentation of the Ashley Morris Award, named after the man who made FYYFF so important to the NOLA Bloggers.

* Finally got to see Patches, the most famous ramshackle rust bucket of a truck on the NOLA Blogosphere, being made less rusty and ramshackley (is that a word? I guess it is now) each week under the love and sweat of Clay, proprietor of NolaDishu. Clay showed me Patches with the pride of a father, explaining all the oddities that made his old red truck so dear to him. Still a lot of work remaining, but I’m thinking Clay is up to the task.

* Our keynote speaker Harry Shearer gave a heartfelt, motivational presentation. One of my favorite quotes was, “If you fight water, water always wins. We need to learn to live with water.” Would have loved if someone from City Hall or any of the spineless politicians who are letting New Orleans be rebuilt in exactly the same ill-planned manner could have heard that.

* Lunch! We got catering from Café Reconcile which is right across the street from Zeitgeist. I had white beans and rice, greens, spicy corn bread and sweet tea. My yat came out strong after eatin dat—yeah you rite.

* Dr. Elmore Rigamer, speaking as part of the Health Care Panel, wonders, “Is New Orleans insane because of Nagin, or is Nagin insane because of New Orleans?” Nobody seemed to have an answer to that one.

* Chris Wiseman represents for the legions of loyal and outlandish Saints fans on the Sports Panel. He shows off a couple of homemade outfits worn to the Dome on game day. Wiseman notes that the decorated costumes worn by fans of other teams commemorate trophies and titles and winning streaks, but his outfit memorializes losses in the Saints family. That includes Ashley Morris, Buddy D, and Sam Mills. The point is clear: Saints fandom transcends success in the game and draws its power instead from the strength of the fan community.

* Skooks, local blogger and Sports Panel moderator, cannily observes, “The four seasons in New Orleans are Carnival, Festival, Hurricane, and Football.” Did he forget one? Here’s hoping one day there will be a Rising Tide season!

All in all a great day. Plans are already begun for Rising Tide V. See you there next year!

Remember

2009-08-29T00:11:00.001-05:00

"The total number of fatalities known, as of this writing, to be either directly or indirectly related to Katrina is 1833, based on reports to date from state and local officials in five states: 1577 fatalities in Louisiana, 238 in Mississippi, 14 in Florida, 2 in Georgia, and 2 in Alabama."

Tropical Cyclone Report, Hurricane Katrina

National Hurricane Center

Tongue-and-groove

2009-08-27T18:29:00.004-05:00

It was just another white pick-up truck, clattering as we all do down the streets of New Orleans. Sticking out the bed was an assortment of tongue-and-groove lumber, in pretty good shape by all appearances, although certainly not new. No, not store bought. Old.

We cherish the old things in New Orleans. I am sure that just about everywhere else in America, the weekend handymen make a beeline to the local big-box "home improvement" store to fill their cars, their trunks and truck beds with the finest, fresh-cut lumber for their latest projects.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

America was just recently enthralled with the "Cash for Clunkers" program, an economic stimulus scheme with the added benefit of disposing of a lot of old cars from our highways and driveways. Because old is bad. Old is inefficient. Old is unreliable.

But I venture nobody ever pined for a poster of a 2009 Ford Taurus to decorate their dorm room. No band ever considered posing with a 2008 Chevrolet Impala for the cover of their new CD. New, it turns out, has its limitations.

And in a city on the verge of 300 years old, I think we understand that. Where others see blight to be removed, we see our squandered heritage and fight to preserve it. Where others revel in the "hip" and "now," we're happy to say "Where y'at?" for a few more decades. Where others dine on Nouveau Cuisine, we're happy to eat stuffed mirlitons like grandma used to make.

So I smiled when I saw that truck filled with reused lumber. I don't know what project they were working on, but I would not be surprised if it was going to be a dining room floor or a paneled wall for a house that was already 100 years old.

That's part of the charm of New Orleans. No, not store-bought. Old.

Hello, Ana

2009-08-15T09:33:00.005-05:00

It's begun. They told us "hurricane season" started June 1, but we all know the real time of worry is August and September.

So here we are looking at maps again. Waiting and worrying.

Hello, Ana.

Go away!!!!

Routine business

2009-08-12T00:44:00.002-05:00

My Darling Wife had to go to City Hall the other day to conduct some routine business.

Which is almost laughable to anyone who has been to City Hall and knows the truth: the only thing “routine” about business there is that it’s frustrating and painful.

It turns out that when we moved to our new house in 2008 the assessor lost our homestead exemption application. The result being that we’ve overpaid property taxes for two years now and we’re due a refund.

Fearlessly, my Darling Wife first visited the assessor’s office on the third floor and was able to convince them of the error. It took a few months but a corrected assessment was provided. For a refund, she was advised to call upon the finance department on the first floor.

A few clicks of a computer and the finance department confirmed it: yes, the city had collected more than the adjusted tax bill and a refund was in order. All we had to do was produce the cancelled check.

The cancelled check? My Darling Wife asked, why do you need that? Didn’t you just confirm that the taxes were overpaid?

Yes, the finance department said, we confirm the taxes were overpaid. We are prepared to order a refund. But we need to know who gets the refund.

My Darling Wife was confused. As the property owner and the person who overpaid the taxes, wouldn’t you just give the refund to me?

We will issue a refund to the person who overpaid the taxes, the finance department said.

And that’s me, she replied.

How do we know that? the finance department asked. We need proof.

My Darling Wife wondered aloud, who else but us would be paying our property taxes?

We need the cancelled check, or a notarized affidavit.

So a few days later and with the help of a lawyer friend (thanks, Dangerblond!), my Darling Wife returned to the finance department with legal documents that prove to the satisfaction of the City of New Orleans that we and only we paid property taxes on the house that we and only we have owned for the past two years and that we and only we are entitled to a refund of some of the taxes that we and only we paid.

It was her third trip to City Hall to conduct this same routine business.

And as I often complain, if educated people with good communication skills have this much trouble interfacing with government, what must it be like for less educated, less articulate citizens?

In fact, while in line to complete our paperwork, my Darling Wife met a man who had come to City Hall to pay delinquent taxes. He explained that if he did not pay his taxes soon, the city would quickly be moving to take his house. His tax bill was about $300, and he had brought cash to pay it and end the threat of foreclosure.

But once he stepped up to the window, the finance department informed him that a late penalty had been added to this bill. Apparently surprised at the news, the man pulled out every dollar he had on his person.

And he came up $4 short.

Sorry, said the finance department. Next!

Flustered, the man turned to leave.

My Darling Wife said the man looked like he had struggled mightily to scrape together the tax money. She fully understood his frustration at having to go home with unfinished business and the prospect of coming back to do it all again another day.

So she gave him $4, and he paid his property taxes in full.

We live in a city of haves and have-nots.

And I remain forever grateful for what I have: a wife who willingly takes on City Hall in all its soulless bureaucracy, and who remembers that it is the smallest acts of kindness that preserve our humanity and make urban living possible.

Register NOW for Rising Tide 4

2009-07-25T21:43:00.002-05:00

Get updates on the program of speakers here. Register here. Buy the poster here. Connect with New Orleans here.

Thanks to our artist-in-residence Greg Peters for this great poster.

"You're a damned public monopoly...make it right"

2009-06-23T21:36:00.005-05:00

"Entergy throws our heritage into the dumpster." That's what Ashley Morris said about the thoughtless destruction of street name tiles set in the concrete of many New Orleans street corners.

"You're a damned public monopoly, guaranteed to make a profit," Ashley wrote. "Make it right. It's all important."

Once they were caught, of course Entergy promised to make it right in a letter published in The Times-Picayune.

Other NOLA Bloggers followed up on the story, including here and here.

That was more than a year ago.

So now we have a progress report from Oyster. Before you click on that link to get an update, do you want to guess what has happened since April 25, 2008, the day Entergy publicly promised in no uncertain terms that "tiles will be replaced"?

Discovery Bay

2009-06-21T07:10:00.001-05:00

When I was about 9 years old, my dad came home from work and was greeted by his three children eager to show him their new shoes. It must have been spring or summer, because we had all just been outfitted with new “sneakers.”

“Wow, I bet you can run fast in those,” he said.

We immediately went out back to show him, racing back and forth our suburban lawn.

Dad always loved playing around with us. For every situation he had a joke, a comment, an observation that was intended to be funny or evoke a reaction.

We lived a worry-free childhood, thanks to Dad’s hard work and jovial demeanor. Even when he worked two jobs—for a while he was driving a taxicab at night after his office job, and sometimes he took seasonal work driving Mosquito Control trucks in the early evening hours—we had no idea how tight a budget the family was on.

One day, we packed up the car to spend the weekend on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. But we did not go straight to the beach. We first had to stop at a community development called “Discovery Bay.” Dad spent several hours talking to the salesmen there while Mom did her best to keep us three kids from making a scene. We drove around the fledgling development looking at prospective lots until finally, happily, Dad concluded his business and we headed for the beach.

“Are we going to move?” we all asked.

“No, no, no,” Dad informed us. “We just had to go see what they were selling so that we could get a free night at the hotel.” I think they gave him money for gas, too.

It was a fun weekend, and while there were other times when we went to the beach or spent a night at a hotel paid for in the conventional way, I remember our trip to Discovery Bay in particular. I only vaguely understood it at the time but it became clear to me as the years went by: my Dad is a resourceful, clever man, always on the lookout for a deal and always eager to have a good time.

He is no different today.

When my own Precious Daughter spends time with her grandparents, she always comes home with stories of the crazy things her Grandpa said or did. Often I already know. I already know that he will walk up to any pay phone and pretend to find money, and then laugh as you check other pay phones but find nothing. I already know that he will play jokes on Grandma and then claim it wasn’t him, blaming one of the children instead. I already know that if you show him your new shoes, he will say, “Wow, I bet you can run fast in those.”

I never knew either of my grandfathers, so it is truly a treat to experience my own dad as a grandfather via my girl. It doesn’t matter if the jokes or old, or silly, or sometimes not all that funny. It only matters that every time he tells a joke or pulls a prank, he does it out of love.

And he sure does love us a lot.

RTIV: Save the date

2009-06-14T14:43:00.003-05:00

It's almost time for the next Rising Tide conference. This will be the fourth year of the gathering of NOLA Bloggers and those who care about the recovery and growth of New Orleans.

This year's conference will take place on Saturday, August 22, returning to the same venue as last year--Zeitgeist Multi-disciplinary Arts Center at 1618 Oretha Castle Haley Blvd. in New Orleans. The full program is still under construction and will be announced shortly.

So for now, save the date and get set for Rising Tide IV.

How can this even be a question?

2009-06-01T23:20:00.001-05:00

Mark Singletary over at CityBusiness wants to ask you a few questions.

Go ahead, try it out. See if you can answer four simple questions about Louisiana, WWII, and the rock band Coldplay.

At least, these should be simple questions. People who live here, work here, stake their lives and fortunes in Louisiana and its most famous city, New Orleans, should know some basic history, shouldn’t they?

Well, not to spoil it for you if you haven’t already clicked through to see for yourself, but Mark found that precious few of the people he polled could answer basic questions about Louisiana and WWII history.

But--and this is the amazing yet unsurprising result of the survey--80 percent of respondents knew trivial, even intimate details about Coldplay.

Now, granted, this was a very small and very unscientific survey, but I think we all know from our collected anecdotal experience that the conclusion is likely valid: most of us don’t know much of anything about history.

What is it they say about people who don’t remember history? Yes, that’s right, and the results are almost universally unpleasant.

We’re entering another hurricane season today. Another cycle of tropical cyclones buzzing the coastal areas and like kamikazes coming in for the kill. Already I’ve heard some discussion of what to do if a storm heads our way.

What to do? How can this even be a question? Do we not remember 2005? Have we forgotten already?

Evacuate! Get out of harm’s way. Pack up your family, your friends and your pets and get the hell out of Dodge.

Most of the time it won’t matter. Hurricanes change course, loose strength or just turn out to be not as nasty as they first seemed to be. Most of the time.

But do you really want to be here when things go badly? Do you really want to be in your house when the roof comes apart? Or the water overtops the levee? Or the power goes out just as the roof comes apart and the water overtops the levee?

The informed answer is NO.

Spend a few days visiting an out-of-state friend or relative, or find a hotel North of Shreveport where you can relax safely.

You might even find time to read a good book. I’d recommend "Band of Brothers" by Stephen Ambrose or "A Short History of New Orleans" by Mel Leavitt—because you never know when someone might suddenly want to quiz you.

Imagine

2009-05-24T17:52:00.008-05:00

I was walking with my Precious Daughter to Bayou Boogaloo yesterday when we came upon this sign on Ursulines and North Rendon.

It was a beautiful day for music by the bayou. This year's Boogaloo expanded to the south with a second stage. The result was twice the music and more room for the throngs to spread out to enjoy it.

I immediately liked Billy Iuso & the Restless Natives--and not just because they covered a Talking Heads song. They put out a powerful blues-rock-funk groove through a light-hearted set of infectious joy. At one point, the band celebrated moving into a new house in the 9th Ward Musician's Village by belting out a rocked out version of "Moving On Up," the popular theme of "The Jeffersons" television show.

We also checked out the Charmaine Neville Band, and even Precious Daughter confessed to liking her version of "Papa was a Rolling Stone." Charmaine sang the refrain true to the original style of The Temptations' recording, while her son filled in the verses with new and scorching rap.

The catch of the day, however, was Groovesect, a band I confess I had not even heard of until Saturday. Groovesect charmed the eclectic crowd with intricate rhythms and skillful musicianship. The songs were tight and entertaining, and succeeded in spreading groove to all. I will be watching the local listing to catch Groovesect again.

Bayou Boogaloo has earned a reputation for being the mini-Jazz Fest for the locals. This year's event, bigger than ever, did not disappoint. As we walked home at dusk, I wondered what it would be like if everyone in America could have a day of boogaloo.

Imagine, indeed!

I saw Bonerama at Jazz Fest and I wrote this Haiku

2009-05-05T06:23:00.004-05:00

Music washes down
Over a sea of faces
Mixing sweat and tears

Sometimes New Orleans is a complicated place.

How can you explain to someone outside of New Orleans why we laugh at tourists who cannot pronounce "beignets" and then revel in the way we knowingly and obstinately mispronounce "Calliope" Street?

Is it the desire to keep close hold on membership to our special club? Or simply our way of keeping close the history of this almost 300-year-old city? Is it an overt gesture of bohemian style which we think sets us grandly apart from the rest of the US? Or is it a stubborn embrace of the bad habits handed down by our uneducated fathers and mothers?

Yes, it's complicated.

But sometimes New Orleans is simple, forthright, and blindingly obvious.

Like Jazz Fest.

You go, you hear music, and you have a beer--with about a hundred thousand other people.

You sweat, you smile, and you commune with humanity.

Change the odds

2009-04-29T05:52:00.001-05:00

A new report from the National Academy of Sciences generated sensational headlines recently. Unfortunately those attention-grabbing headlines and the ill-informed commenters that responded all seem to have missed the major point.

The report, The New Orleans Hurricane Protection System: Assessing Pre-Katrina Vulnerability and Improving Mitigation and Preparedness, was most widely quoted as declaring that New Orleans can never be made safe. The most popular quote appears to be this one: “Levees and floodwalls surrounding New Orleans -- no matter how large or sturdy -- cannot provide absolute protection against overtopping or failure in extreme events.”

Many seemed to have stopped reading right there and joined one of two opposing camps: those who say it’s hopeless and we should quit wasting time and money trying to do the impossible in New Orleans, and, those who say scientists, engineers and politicians who would surrender the city to nature are either idiots or cowards.

They're both wrong.

A more careful reading of the report, available online, reveals that the true intent of the engineer and scientist authors is to fully alert the public to the stark reality of residual risks. That is to say, no matter what science concocts or what government provides, it is neither possible nor realistic to expect all danger to be removed.

Is this surrender to the whims of nature? No. It is a plainly stated view of reality. The world is dangerous. We can do many things to reduce danger, but there’s always a risk. There’s always a risk.

Is this a cry of hopelessness? Again, no. Scientists and engineers accept the challenge head-on. Humans are naturally proud, stubborn and intelligent enough to figure things out. Some may crumble and compare the struggle for survival to the punishment of Sisyphus, but most of us are stout-hearted and bold with resolve.

And here’s what the NAS report recommends: don’t rely entirely on levees and floodwalls. Build smart. Choose wisely. Be proactive.

A levee is no guarantee. New Orleanians have had water in their homes many times when there was not a hurricane in sight. One example is May 3, 1978, a date many of us remember. Torrential rain filled the streets and flooded cars and houses in Orleans, Jefferson and St. Bernard Parishes.

A floodwall is no guarantee. Even if the new floodwalls are rock solid and bulletproof, there is always the possibility of a storm surge taller than the wall. The current goal is to build a system to stop a 1% per year chance exceedence flood. But as I've blogged before and as the NAS report points out, that so-called 100-year level of protection is really pretty small when you think about it.

The odds might be 1 in 100 if you live here for 1 year, but each successive year the odds get worse and worse. If you live a full 72 years in New Orleans, there’s a 52% chance you will experience that big flood that will overtop the floodwalls.

The major point the NAS wanted to make is that levees and floodwalls are just part of the answer. The rest is up to us.

So what can we do?

First, understand that the levees and floodwalls form the perimeter defense. Once water overtops or falls as rain inside the system, water is going to pool in the lowest parts of the city. Even when the pumps are going full bore—and we have the best pumping system in the world—we know we can still be flooded. If at all possible, we should build on naturally high ground.

After Katrina, I lived for a while in the “Sliver by the River.” That part of the city remained dry not because of better floodwalls or pumps—it was purely natural elevation that spared the homes and businesses there.

Secondly, we have to elevate our homes. Slab-on-grade houses are modern, less expensive and dangerous. I speak from experience here. My Gentilly home was just too darn low. Houses like that are just tempting fate. Every foot above the ground adds safety from flooding.

Thirdly, we have to build above the inadequate and dangerous 100-year level of protection. Not just levees and floodwalls—I’m talking about houses here. When the city issues a building permit, they will give the 100-year elevation required to qualify for the National Flood Insurance Program. That’s the MINIMUM elevation for construction. Why stop there? Add a foot. Add two or three.

Remember that the 1% per year exceedence flood will occur sooner or later. There’s a 26% chance it will happen in 30 years, and a 39% chance in 50 years. Those are not good odds.

We can change the odds by building higher.

Finally, buy insurance. All of the things I discuss above can and will reduce your exposure to the risk of flooding, but nothing is going to totally eliminate the danger. If all else fails, your final safety net is flood insurance to lessen the financial blow.

Just as seatbelts, airbags, and all the safety systems of a modern highway will not guarantee survival in the event of a car accident, the NAS wants everyone to understand that levees and floodwalls, no matter how high or sturdy, cannot guarantee safety from flooding. There is always some residual risk. And just as safe driving habits will bring us safely home, smart building and planning will go a long way to keeping our homes safe.

Waiting for evidence

2009-04-26T01:30:00.002-05:00

An engineer dies in a car accident and finds himself in Heaven where he is greeted by the full host of angels and a heavenly chorus. “This is fabulous,” the engineer says to Saint Peter. “Do you greet all new arrivals this way?” “Oh, no!” St. Peter says. “This is all to welcome you--the longest living human since the days of Adam.” Confused, the engineer tells the venerable gatekeeper that he was only 35 years old at the time of his death. St. Peter looks through a huge stack of papers and several books resembling accounting ledgers. “Well, according to all of these hours on your time sheets,” St. Peter says, “We figured you were at least 169!”

Unlike lawyer and doctor jokes, engineer jokes are few and far between. This one is an often-told joke that both honors engineers for our long hours of work and skewers us for the sometimes incredible amount of work for which we bill our clients.

I recalled this silly tale today as I read the news account of the ongoing trial against the government regarding the influence of the Mississippi River-Gulf Outlet on Hurricane Katrina’s storm surge. According to the Associated Press, witness for plaintiffs Bob Bea said he had spent “about 10,000 hours studying the levee failures during Katrina.”

Ten thousand hours? Really?

Katrina struck on Monday, August 29, 2005, and the subject testimony was given Friday, April 24, 2009. That’s a span of 1,334 days. And 10,000 hours divided by 1, 334 days gives us an average of almost 7.5 hours per day. That’s every day—seven days as week, 52 weeks a year. If the plaintiff’s witness had dedicated his full and undivided attention to the subject—40 hours a week with no holidays—the total hours would add up to less than 7,700 hours. And even that’s a stretch.

Not quite as ridiculous as the engineer in the joke, but still a tally that raises an eyebrow.

This same witness against the government compared levee building in Louisiana to the task of Sisyphus, the hopeless soul from Greek mythology. In this, California professor Bea joined a chorus of critics who have said rebuilding New Orleans would be a waste of money and effort. They say New Orleans is doomed and that nature will wash away our city no matter what we do.

It's unfortunate that an engineer, a person supposedly dedicated to using science and technology for the public good, takes such a defeatist view of our city. New Orleans has been here almost 300 years and it seems fickle and cowardly to declare the battle lost now when the resources to protect and preserve the city are more abundant than ever before.

But I suppose his testimony is no worse than the testimony of litigant Norman Robinson. According to news reports, Mr. Robinson took the stand earlier in the trial to detail the pain and suffering he experienced following Katrina. Depression, alcoholism, anger and thoughts of suicide all took their toll on the television newsman.

It certainly must have been gripping testimony. I’m just not sure what any of it has to do with the alleged malfeasance and errors of engineering. Mr. Robinson is neither a scientist nor an engineer and it would appear all he had to offer was his sad story and dramatic telling of it. If plaintiffs are relying so heavily on emotional appeal, it betrays their lack of confidence in proving their case based on science and factual evidence.

Of course, all we have is news accounts, which we know leave most of what is going on in the courtroom untold. It just seems to me that if there was some compelling science, some “smoking gun” evidence, we’d be reading about that rather than the emotional state of plaintiffs and the incredible number of hours their witness spent working on the case.

Perhaps they do have scientific and factual evidence which they will reveal before the trial ends.

Or, perhaps the next witness will tell us the story of the lawyer and the engineer who meet on a fishing trip in the Caribbean. The lawyer tells the engineer, “I'm here because my house burned down. The insurance company paid off well enough for me to take this vacation.”

“That's quite a coincidence,” says the engineer. “I’m also using insurance money for this trip. Except in my case, my house was flooded.”

“Amazing,” says the lawyer. A few moments later, the lawyer says, “So tell me, how do you start a flood?”

A crack in my own voice

2009-03-28T17:20:00.001-06:00

We were shopping a few days ago and ended up at Cane's for lunch--a favorite of our Precious Daughter's. In the next booth a group of adults were talking about everyday things.

"Oh she has a nice place on the North shore," one lady said.

"But her sister is still in Houston?" another said.

"Yeah, still in Houston. They're not coming back."

A man chirped in with, "Well there you go--we know people in New Orleans, Mandeville and Houston, so no matter where the next hurricane hits we have a place to go."

Everyone laughed in agreement.

Another day, at the office, someone is remembering businesses that "Ain't dere no more." She mentions Wembley ties.

One of my colleagues says, "I have several of their ties. I bet you do, too."

"Not any more," I say. "I lost all that in Katrina."

We exchange empathetic smiles.

A story in the local newspaper about an over-zealous anti-graffiti crusader prompts much online discussion. Someone points out that if anyone feels a compelling need to paint buildings, why not paint over the search-and-rescue X marks that still mar the fronts of many houses in Gentilly and Lakeview.

Like those X's, and the high-water line stain that still lingers on far too many buildings, the residue of 2005 sticks to New Orleans, it clings to us like an ugly, unwanted tattoo.

Of course it remains a part of us. Hurricane Katrina is indelibly a part of the collective experience of New Orleans, so much so that we can chat lightly about future storms and resulting evacuations. So much so, that we a lot of what we do on a day-to-day basis comes from or still alludes to that sad event.

Going on four years, of course we have learned to live with it. We cope. We adapt. We move forward.

And yet.

Just this week, a new hire, an engineer from out of state joins us. I am telling him about 2005. I am telling him about the huge storm, the parts of the system that were overwhelmed, the parts that were tested beyond their design but stood, and the parts that failed miserably and fell over even before experiencing their full design loads. I am telling him how the US Coast Guard proved how "always ready" they are. I am telling him how surreal it was to come back to the city that never sleeps and find it dark and quiet after sunset. I am telling him what it was like when I returned to my Vista Park home, the street still covered in mud and the lawns all brown and dead. I am telling him about finding my driveway coated with a half-inch, cracked clay blanket, and how I found a crab, a small, dead crab right there in my driveway...

And I have to stop. I have to stop because I can feel tears. I can feel tears in my eyes and a crack beginning to develop in my own voice that tells me something I did not know. I did not know I am still sad about this. I am still sad that the life we once knew is gone. Dead and gone and buried in the dirt and silt of a flooded house, and a mud-caked neighborhood.

I change the subject and keep talking so that I think perhaps he won't notice. Perhaps he did not see that near-eruption of pitiful emotion.

Later I wonder, what was that all about? Am I still in mourning for the life I lost? Am I still grieving for the deceased and the shocking inability of engineering to protect our city from the forces of nature?

Or is it the news reports from Fargo and other places in North Dakota, pictures of houses engulfed in brown water, stories of people wrenched from their homes and businesses by cruel and indifferent nature that have reopened this wound? I have heard that sometimes people who have lost a limb say they can still feel pain from extremities that long ago ceased to be. They heal, yes, but the healing is never complete.

I am one of the luckiest people I know. Although much was lost, no one in my immediate family died as a result of Hurricane Katrina. And even after losing so much stuff, my family is secure and comfortable in a new home with new furnishings. We can't legitimately claim to be in need of anything.

And yet.

Mea culpa

2009-03-19T22:03:00.000-06:00

I'm sorry.

I made a huge mistake, a terrible miscalculation of character, an embarrassingly poor choice a little more than a year ago.

Regular readers of this blog may recall my support for Malcolm Suber in his bid for New Orleans City Council at Large. Having met him and heard of his work, I thought highly of him--highly enough to donate money to his campaign and work for his election.

Well, we haven’t heard much of Mr. Suber for more than a year. Until now.

I was horrified to read this account of Mr. Suber’s recent comments in The Times-Picayune. According to James Gill, Mr. Suber attacked Council member Stacy Head for being white.

And that is unacceptable, according to Malcolm Suber, who is leading a campaign to recall her. This is "a majority black district, and we think it should have black representation," he said.

These are not the words of a person of character and vision. The words attributed to Mr. Suber here are indicative of the worst kind of demagogue, the kind of politician who cruelly manipulates the public for pure personal gain.

I thought about posting an apology when I first read the story yesterday, but I was prompted this evening by Oyster to follow through. Was he thinking of me when he wrote about the escape from accountability of losing candidates and their supporters? I do not know and it does not matter. He's right and I was wrong.

I apologize for my error and ask all of you to forgive my poor judgment.

Its rightful place for New Orleans

2009-01-26T05:46:00.001-06:00

Tucked into the rich folds of his inaugural speech, it was almost too easy to miss what in the long run may be the most significant and far-reaching change in policy made by President Barack Obama.

To be sure, his acknowledgement of “when the levees break” was encouraging to those of us who have already suffered such woes. It reveals the import of such events in the new president’s mind--in great contrast to his predecessor who made no mention of such issues in successive State of the Union addresses.

But what could have far greater impact on us in the recovering city of New Orleans, and all of America for that matter, is the president’s plan to rededicate our efforts to the most successful investigatory tool ever devised.

In the heart of his inaugural address, the president outlined his vision for America including his goals of reviving a struggling economy, building infrastructure, bolstering public education and harnessing alternative energy.

And that’s where he also said: “We’ll restore science to its rightful place.”

I am not the only person to seize upon those words and all the promise that promise incurs. Cynthia Tucker writes in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, “Obama’s embrace of science is cause for hope.” She recalls how not so long ago the US was the leader in scientific study and accomplishment which certainly accounts in great part for the high standard of living and abundance of wealth we enjoy compared to most of the world.

But Tucker joins me in sadly observing the current wave of anti-science. With George W. Bush as “the chief cheerleader for a rejection of reason,” Tucker notes that Americans have become “a nation of superstitious ignoramuses.”

And who could disagree? On a regular basis we are reminded that the United States lags in basic education compared with other modern nations. Religious belief remains strong and popular support for Creationism and “Intelligent Design” persists in spite of a total lack of evidence and universal scientific rejection. These are just some more commonly known examples; the list is as long as the string of letters representing human DNA.

You may wonder how reaffirming America’s support for and confidence in science could possibly be more important than significant hurricane protection. It’s nice to have science, but as far as New Orleanians are concerned, nothing trumps good levees, right?

Wrong. The two are inextricably connected. We cannot expect to have a robust hurricane protection system unless we pursue it with good science. We cannot expect to be safe without serious and studious observation and application of lessons learned.

But there are indications that superstitious citizens will not yield. Despite several studies and repeated explanations, the average citizen still clings to the false impression that the Mississippi River-Gulf Outlet caused devastating flooding of New Orleans in 2005. Following Hurricane Katrina, pundits and politicians alike nicknamed the shipping channel “the hurricane super highway.” With no science to support the claim and ample evidence against it, the popular notion survives undaunted. Even the junior senator from Louisiana, a person one would hope we could look to for leadership and vision, suffers from belief in this irrational myth.

In another highly visible example, National Geographic posted the Internet story “A City's Faulty Armor” in April 2007. The story features the criticism of engineering professor Bob Bea, who boldly declares the new floodwall constructed to protect the Lower Ninth Ward will not stand against future storms.

Dr. Bea offers no scientific basis for his condemnation of the new wall. There is no mention of soil testing, laboratory analysis, model tests or calculations of any kind.

The only evidence offered by Dr. Bea, according to National Geographic, was a taste test.

Yes--a taste test. Bob Bea, who also happens to be an expert witness in litigation against the government, saw puddle water in the road near the wall and speculated it could be seepage coming from the Industrial Canal on the other side of the wall. To test his hypothesis, he tasted the gutter water and declared it “tasted salty.”

If there is any doubt in the foolishness of Dr. Bea’s methods and conclusions, we only need to remember Hurricane Gustav’s assault on September 1, 2008. Water filled the Industrial Canal almost to the top of the walls and waves splashed over for several hours. Despite dire predictions, the walls did not budge. Gustav killed 43 people in Louisiana but could not breach a single floodwall in New Orleans.

It is an embarrassment to the engineering profession that any engineer practicing in the 21st century would actually form an opinion on the stability of a concrete floodwall based on a taste test of gutter water. And it is testimony to how far this nation’s esteem for science has fallen when a national magazine dedicated to scientific study can publish such blatant quackery as serious inquiry.

Now that President Obama has staked out a position in support of science, I have great hope that the United States will change its path. I have great hope that science, and engineering as well, will find its rightful place in the rebuilding of America and especially in the fortification of New Orleans against future storms.

Democracy demands it

2009-01-19T17:56:00.002-06:00

A lot has been said about The Current Occupant, soon to be former-president, George W. Bush. Many have said he was ineffectual if not destructive. While everyone has someone who loves them--even disgraced and convicted Edwin Edwards has fans--it is clear the majority of America is more than happy to see him go.

Count me in the majority.

And even though our president pledged in a major speech in front of Jackson Square in New Orleans that, "We will stay as long as it takes to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives," I am glad that Mr. Bush is personally reneging on that promise. Based on past performance, I don't really want him to stay any longer.

We get a new president this week, a new face and a new voice to represent the people and the government of the United States of America.

As with all newly-elected politicians, there were promises of change inspiring great hope in the people. We know that no one is perfect and that no one person can do it all alone, but I will try to remain optimistic in the months ahead. And cautious, too, because effective democracy demands the constant attention of citizens.

The job is just beginning--for Barack Obama and for us.

Not on the agenda

2009-01-13T22:40:00.002-06:00

Another meeting today with another design team. Technical issues. Schedules. Cost estimates. Coordination with local agencies. Testing. The meetings are incessant, coming like a rolling rhythm on a snare drum leading up to some great finale, a cymbal crash that will signal we've accomplished our goal, a goal that we know rushes toward us but always seems so far off, until...

About 20 minutes after the start of the meeting, John appeared at the door. Shyly, but wearing an impish grin, he slid along the wall and came up behind his mother. She was talking at the time, explaining the finer details of a particular design decision. John, who may have been 7 years old, wrapped his arms around her neck, but she did not miss a beat. She continued to outline her vision of the work at hand.

A good civil engineer knows that you have to get your point across, you have to explain yourself clearly and succinctly, because you may only get one chance. Gone are the days when engineers could toil quietly away for days on a calculation without interruption. In the fast-paced environment of a multi-billion dollar program, we meet and debate the merits of alternative plans, we quiz each other on the pros and cons of each other's designs, and we challenge each other to do it better, stronger, faster and cheaper.

John, however, was not on the agenda. His attendance at today's meeting was completely unplanned. Earlier, John had been involved in some sort of playground mishap. His school--perhaps being judiciously cautious, or perhaps in yet another demonstration of the pervasive fear of litigation that grips America today--had called his mother to recommend taking him to the emergency room. Just to be sure.

Luckily for him, nothing was broken or out of joint. Unluckily for him, his mom is a key engineer on an important project and she had to return to work--with him in tow.

As the discussion moved from one topic to the next, I couldn't help but keep an eye on John. He wandered in and out of the room a few times, at one point finding a bag a chips to munch. After a while he sat next to someone on the other side of the room. It looked like they were playing some sort of drawing game, each taking a turn and then showing it to the other.

The meeting continued, of course. We all understood the importance of our jobs, just as that mom engineer understood the importance of her dual jobs this afternoon. Under different circumstances, she almost certainly would not have returned to work after bringing her son to the emergency room. But as we all know, Hurricane Katrina changed the circumstances. We spend long days designing the best structures we can to keep this city viable for the next 50 years, and an uneventful visit to see the doctor is no excuse to delay that mission.

Nobody said it, and likely no one needed to, but John had every right to be at that meeting today. After all, we were discussing plans to build the life-safety system essential to the future of New Orleans.

Who better to represent the future of the city than John?

New Year's 2009: Not yet time

2009-01-02T06:13:00.002-06:00

We spent the last hours of 2008 in Algiers Point at a friend’s house on the west bank of New Orleans. It was a breezy, crisp night and I think my Darling Wife and Precious Daughter did not wear enough layers. But neither did I.

A few minutes before midnight, we walked to the river levee. Hundreds of people were gathered along the crown of the levee. Some brought chairs and ice chests with drinks. Some were shooting fireworks and making a small show on the bank of the Mississippi River.

We were surrounded by the sound of crackling fireworks popping rapidly like bubble wrap that is twisted like a dishrag. Intermittent whistles followed the fiery trail of rockets into the sky which ended with a pop and few sparks.

And then, near the French Quarter across that mighty river, the real fireworks show started. Tubes thumped like mortars as the professional pyrotechnics began to light up the sky. Large, colorful blooms burst suddenly over our city, the sparkling reflected in the windows of the tallest downtown buildings. Low booms followed each new fire blossom, always just a couple of seconds late it seemed.

At midnight, we cheered and kissed. It was a happy crowd, a moment of joy for what is certainly a tired citizenry.

On the way to the levee I joked with some that we should see if we could blow it up with our fireworks. “I’ve heard about people blowing up levees,” I said. “I want to see if you can really do that.”

“Oh no,” one lady told me, “These are good levees. They ain’t going nowhere.”

Truthfully, she had no idea. She only knew that in 80 years, longer than most could remember in their lifetimes, the Mississippi River had not flooded the city. Those levees worked, uniformly and consistently. That was all she needed to know.

Who designed them, who built them, what were they made of, how high they were, who maintains them, who inspects them, who pays for all of the above—she neither knew nor cared to know.

And that’s typical.

We don’t worry about things like levees until they don’t work.

Reading recent letters and editorials in The Times-Picayune, that reality is thrown in my face over and over. People generally don’t have a clue about levees, but they have very strong opinions nonetheless. They know this city and its surrounding communities got flooded badly in 2005. They know the levees didn’t work then, and lacking any understanding of how or why, they remain wary.

I thought perhaps our experience with Hurricanes Gustav and Ike would have helped. I thought—having seen how the new and reinforced floodwalls stood strong, how the outfall canal gates and pumps worked flawlessly, how the levees facing Lakes Borgne and Pontchartrain had performed brilliantly—that the average person would know that improvements are being made to our levees. And that these improvements work.

But I guess it’s not yet time.

I smoked my customary New Year’s Eve cigar and watched the fireworks show over the city. We huddled together to stay warm and block some of the wind. I’ve developed a pretty thick skin these past few years, but I still feel the chill from time to time.

Remember what's good

2008-12-23T23:32:00.001-06:00

This story filled me with admiration, pride and sorrow all at the same time.

Lest We Forget, published online by GovExec.com, reminds us that there are at least 180,000 soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines away from home this holiday season--many in harm's way. Read it and remember.

I do not agree with the political policies behind our incursions in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I strongly question the Constitutionality of the use our military there. But I salute those who live up to the Army Value of Selfless Service.

This time of year--the darkest and coldest days in the Northern hemisphere--is the time commonly chosen to remember what's good in this world and to dream about how it can be made better in the coming year. Let's remember the outstanding individuals of our volunteer armed forces.

Wishing everyone everywhere Peace and Happy Holidays,

Tim

Made in China

2008-12-19T22:01:00.002-06:00

The other night I showed my Precious Daughter what grown-ups do for Christmas. Well, grown-ups who are also NOLA Bloggers, that is. If you didn't know, they engage in a Christmas video war dubbed the "Hostilidays."

The idea is to post the most silly, annoying and offensive videos. So far, a whole slew of bloggers have joined in battle including Oyster, Maitri, Varg, Greg, Leigh, Loki, Adrastos, Mark, and Howie.

I had not participated in this ugly annual exchange--until now.

It just so happens that my Precious Daughter has started to learn Chinese in school. She came home today eager to tell me about how they were learning "Jingle Bells" in Chinese, and that they had seen a truly awful video of it as part of the lesson. She suggested it would be appropriate for Hostilidays and I agreed.

So here it is, "Ding Ding Dang" and all! Enjoy it (if you can).

Unlimited fuel

2008-12-18T19:32:00.000-06:00

Such a simple thing. It's almost inconceivable that the City of New Orleans has no written criteria for assigning take-home vehicles. And no established method to monitor or restrict their personal use. And no requirement that employees with take home vehicles document any public purpose for all the expenses the city pays to provide insurance, maintenance and unlimited fuel.

I said, "almost inconceivable," because in fact, we are talking about New Orleans here.

And who ever thought for one second that our city was well managed?

We didn't need proof, but now we have it. The report by the city's own Office of the Inspector General came out yesterday, and it's a scorcher with silk gloves. Again and again, the report makes straightforward, common-sense observations about what should be done and what is not done. In a community that is struggling every day and with every dollar to get back on its feet, the results are chilling.

Waste? That's almost a given. But what would you expect when you give employees a free car with unlimited fuel and nobody watching what they do or where they go with it? How can there not be waste when there's no written criteria or centralized oversight for who gets a city vehicle with take home privileges?

Fraud? There's no way to gauge it since there's no accountability, but I think it's safe to assume the worst. The report notes the curious instances where an employee with a city-owned Ford F-150 equipped with an 18-gallon gas tank pulled into a gas station one day and put 91.2 gallons on the city's credit card. And the employee with the Ford Taurus, a car that holds 18 gallons max, who charged 39.9 gallons on a single visit to the pump.

Abuse? How about take home cars assigned to two employees who live in Baton Rouge. And the tortured story of the city employee who had four city vehicles parked in front of his house for at least a month: the first was old and unreliable and only for local use, the second was borrowed from an employee on sick leave, the third was a brand new truck that was to be assigned to others but was being used by the employee until the full shipment of new vehicles arrived, and the fourth was yet another new vehicle assigned to the employee to replace the old and unreliable first vehicle. Huh?

And here's the kicker: this is just an interim report. There's more to come once the OIG gets to investigate the use of cars by the NOPD, Aviation Board, Civil Sheriff, Criminal Sheriff and Sewerage and Water Board. If those guys are smart, they'll start to get their house in order BEFORE the OIG shows up, especially since now they know what they'll be looking for.

Kudos to Robert Cerasoli, Inspector General for an outstanding job. Give him credit for a report that avoids finger-wagging and haughty accusations of mismanagement. Instead, the overall tone is one of helpful advice. Nowhere is it suggested that anyone knowingly misused or abused privileges, and this makes it much easier for the responsible city officials to take the constructive criticism of the report and make changes.

If there's one person who deserves as much help as we can give him, it's Robert Cerasoli. Let's hope that he--of all the city's employees--truly has unlimited fuel to keep doing what he's doing.

Thanks, Maitri, for hosting the Interim Report on the Management of the Administrative Vehicle Fleet.

Snow in New Orleans

2008-12-11T17:05:00.007-06:00

It doesn't happen too often, so when it does it's quite an event. I had already arrived at work today when we started to hear reports of snow.

Baton Rouge, we heard, then Covington.

Suddenly one of my colleagues was putting on her coat. "What's going on?" I asked.

"I'm going outside to see the snow," she said.

I thought she might be kidding or was duped by a rumor until I looked out the window and saw it: large flat flakes floating and blowing by the window. Snow!

I took some pictures with my cell phone so the quality is limited. Still, you can see the white covering the cars in the parking lot, and the blanket of white all the way up the Mississippi River levee.

The rooftops of the houses nearby were blanketed white. Somehow, it made the aged, beaten buildings all look pretty.

Most of my coworkers made it to the office okay, but a one or two who lived on the North shore phoned in saying they couldn't make the trip. Since the office was open, they will have to use their own leave time for missing work today. I don't think anyone was complaining about that, though. It was probably a good day to take off.

By lunchtime most of the snow had already melted away. New Orleans returned to being just another cold, wet city.

Snow day 2008 in New Orleans lasted about 4 hours.

Where ya been, Tim?

2008-11-16T22:20:00.005-06:00

Working. "Like a rented mule," as my Darling Wife likes to say.

Not only that, I'm afraid there's just not been much to write about lately. We're happily settling in to our new home, paying bills and taking in some of the pleasures of living in New Orleans. Nothing wrong with that, but it's just not the sort of stuff I think makes for good blogging.

But here is something: our Precious Daughter recently completed a writing short course at NOCCA. The students each wrote a story based on a life experience. Some were true stories, others fiction. My girl's story is fictional, although it takes place at our pre-K house in Gentilly. Like any parent I'm proud of what she wrote and I asked her if she would let me put it up on my blog.

"Really?" she said.

Yes, really, I replied.

And here it is, my 12-year-old's creative writing. Enjoy!

Caution

When I was seven years old, my father built me a play set in our backyard. It wasn’t fancy, made of wood with swings, a sandbox, a slide, and monkey bars. But to me, it was my castle. I suppose it was 8 or 9 feet tall, and I had just discovered a way to climb on top of it. I would weave myself up the panels and beams until I got to the very top, where there was just one beam left, suspended above the ground. It was exhilarating to be up there, with just a beam between you and the grass. It felt like I was a bird on a telephone wire, or a coyote howling on the very edge of a cliff. I went up there often to tight-rope walk around and smell the woodsy scent of the outdoors. My parents weren’t thrilled about my discovery for no parent likes their child to be in any sort of dangerous situation. They told me to stop, but the exhilaration overwhelmed me and I continued to walk on that beam of wood, held above the world, and look into my neighbor’s yard.

One day, I was walking around on the beam like normal when my foot slipped off the side. I felt my balance falter. All of the exhilaration drained away like some one had pulled the plug in a bathtub. Suddenly, I fell from the beam, face forward, the grass coming closer and closer towards me. Then, just as suddenly as it had started it stopped. I hung upside down, and it was as if someone had paused my life. The next emotions that washed over me were relief and panic. I twisted up, and found by luck, my shoelace had caught on a nail, preventing my fall. I breathed a sigh and then cut it off when I saw that my shoelace would not last long since the nail was splitting it in half slowly. I knew that the next time I fell I would hit the ground. What could I do? I shrieked and cried, twisting farther up to see just how long I would have to wait before my shoelace snapped. Then, my last hope failed me and the final string of my shoelace broke. I felt the air whoosh past me as I fell for the second time.

I hated the feeling of falling, because I couldn’t control it and I was afraid that gravity would suck me in and I would never come back out again. But, to my surprise, the first thing I felt after a small moment of falling was not the hard, sharp feel of our St. Augustine grass, but of my father. I was suddenly very aware of my father’s arms that were wrapped around me, and how he smelled like bacon and cologne, and how he had saved me. I started sobbing again, and he started humming to me a soft lullaby, and when I had cried all of my tears he carried me inside and told me that I should have listened to him in the first place. Even though he was scolding me, it did not seem that way to me, for with every word he held me closer and didn’t let me go for a very long time.

The 4,900-year gap

2008-10-20T05:05:00.000-05:00

A neighbor from Vista Park had another letter in The Times Picayune today.

KC is one of the few people in New Orleans who truly understands the risk of living here. As he rebuilds his home just a few hundred feet from the London Avenue Canal breach, KC has been tireless in his efforts to get the word out: We Are Not OK.

Just one small point I need to make about KC's letter: the Dutch design goal is to provide for a MINIMUM 1,250-year event, mostly in farm or less-developed areas of the county. Highly populated urban or industrial regions get 10,000-year protection (0.01 percent chance of exceedence per year).

But KC is cold correct when he points out who is responsible to manage the residual risks: individual citizens.

From the seat of my pants

2008-10-17T22:12:00.003-05:00

Driving in Orange County, California turned out to be quite an amazing experience for someone from New Orleans.

Bumps, potholes and anything that would add vibration to travel on the city streets simply do not exist in Orange County. Specifically, I was driving in Santa Ana this week, the city where John Wayne Airport (yes, it’s named after the Duke) is located.

It took a few moments for me to comprehend the beauty of the silky smooth roads there. I was driving a rental car, so my first thought was that the car had a really nice ride and excellent seats. But as I looked down the pristine roadway of perfectly manicured black asphalt, it dawned on me: these are really nice streets.

Perhaps you have to be a civil engineer to fully appreciate what a well built and impeccably maintained road is all about. But perhaps the experience is not so cerebral and requires nothing more than buttocks accustomed to the constant rumble of unraveling asphalt and cracked concrete of an aging, neglected city like New Orleans.

As I drove along, I began to look for potholes or any sign of distress that would tell me I was driving in a real city, a city like my own sweet Crescent City that struggles to keep up with street maintenance. It was a fruitless search.

Making my way toward my hotel, I turned off the major thoroughfare onto a more local street, again hoping—yes, hoping—that I would find the urban decay that was so much a part of home. Again, nothing but smooth, disturbance-free travel.

A few blocks on, I came upon a small traffic jam. A-Ha, I thought, they may have beautiful streets, but they still can’t efficiently convey the full flow of weekday traffic. As we merged over into a single line of cars, I saw up ahead the common trappings of roadway work: large orange warning signs and the ubiquitous traffic cones. Drawing closer, I saw a pair of paving machines and men in bright safety vests moving hot asphalt about with shovels.

And painted in block letters on the equipment were the letters “SAPW,” Santa Ana Public Works.

The city actually had their own in-house crew resurfacing streets. Even though the street for a mile in either direction was, to my best judgment, in excellent serviceable condition, here they were fixing whatever minor imperfections they had found with all haste.

I pulled up to the hotel a few blocks later and parked the car. After settling into my room, I opened the curtains to look over the vista. Down the hill was an unbroken quilt of urbanized terrain. Hotels, gas stations, shops, banks and houses blended into an unbroken cityscape down the slope to the Pacific Ocean in the distance. Weaving them all together were the streets, those vital threads of commerce and communication, the very lifelines of the modern city.

It is no accident that we talk about our roads in biological terminology. No organic community will grow or thrive or be healthy without adequately functional arteries. Living as I have for most of my life in New Orleans, I guess I had developed low expectations for what high quality streets looked like or even how maintaining excellent streets could even be possible.

But what my mind had lazily never considered or dreamed possible, my buttocks discovered and exclaimed: it is not simply a fantasy to have streets in good repair.

Various professional and trade organizations as well as government highway officials have warned us for years that poorly maintained roads cost the public a lot of money—more even than the money our politicians might think they are “saving” by permanently deferring maintenance. Every mile we drive over pocked and damaged roadway takes a toll on our cars in maintenance, lost travel time and reduced fuel efficiency.

And I will add that every mile we drive on the pitiful streets of New Orleans dulls what should be our collective community outrage over the sad condition of this most basic city service. It lulls us into the dangerous mindset that, “That’s just how things are here. There’s no point in trying to fix this or any other of our city’s problems.”

As defeating and destructive and that thinking is, I realized perhaps an even greater damage done to us by our pathetic streets comes in the reverse situation to my recent trip to Orange County.

As awed as I was by the quality of their streets, what must the visitor to New Orleans think of OUR roadways? And what must they conclude about the viability of OUR city? Who wants to live in a city or invest in a city that can’t even fill the potholes?

It’s a jarring thought, even more jarring than driving down a local street here.

My biker friend

2008-09-29T05:26:00.002-05:00

In those dark days following Hurricane Katrina few things were certain. Among them, I knew I must return to the city as soon as possible. I also knew I had no place to live when I did.

In an incredible turn of luck, a friend introduced me to a UNO professor named David. Luck, seemingly in short supply in September 2005, became suddenly plentiful. Not only did David have a house that probably had not flooded, he was not planning to return with his family for a few months. David told me I could have free use his house for as long as I needed. And luckier still, he had evacuated to within a 45-minute drive of where we were in Virginia. I picked up the keys as I headed back to the city in late September.

I lived in David's house for about a month and he has never asked for anything in return.

Next week, David will once again be pedaling his generosity as he participates in this year's National Multiple Sclerosis Society Bike Tour. It's a 150-mile ride to raise money for those who cannot ride for themselves. David will join with a thousand or more cyclists in a mass demonstration of care. When I heard he was looking for sponsors, I did not hesitate to toss a few dollars into his hat.

If you'd like to make a donation or join the team, please visit the National MS Society Bike Event page. Let David know we all support his efforts and his dedication.

'Tis the Season

2008-09-21T14:47:00.007-05:00

Hurricane season continues, at least according to scientists, until November 30.

While I'm sure they put a lot of thought into selecting that date, it remains rather arbitrary. There's no reason why hurricanes can't develop and strike after that date (and they certainly have). Nature has relentlessly resisted all our attempts to fit the seasons into neat little boxes on our calendars since long before Roy Rogers sang, "Don't Fence Me In."

The good news for the people of coastal Texas and Louisiana recently whacked by Gustav and Ike is that statistically at least they are in the clear. Scientists say there's two more months of hurricane season, but the worst part of hurricane season is over. Those on the wet and battered coast have reason to be optimistic as they continue to clean up, repair and rebuild what they can.

My Darling Wife forwarded this little bit of hurricane season levity via an infinite string of forwarded emails. I don't know how long it's been making the rounds, but I think it's the first time I've seen it and I think it's a clever contrast.

So here now are the Top Ten Reasons Hurricane Season Is Like Christmas:

Number Ten: Decorating the house (with plywood).

Number Nine: Dragging out boxes that haven't been used since last season.

Number Eight: Last minute shopping in crowded stores.

Number Seven: Regular TV shows preempted for "Specials."

Number Six: Family coming to stay with you.

Number Five: Family and friends from out of state calling you.

Number Four: Buying food you don't normally buy . . . and in large quantities.

Number Three: Days off from work.

Number Two: Candles.

And the Number One reason Hurricane Season is like Christmas:

At some point you're probably going to have a tree in your house!

Evacuation is the wise choice

2008-09-14T00:43:00.006-05:00

There's been some ongoing discussion around town about whether or not people would evacuate should another hurricane turn toward New Orleans. The one thing everyone agrees about is that evacuating is unpleasant and costly.

But that's not the point. Evacuation is a matter of safety. That is, it could be the difference between life and death.

To help the more stubborn arrive at a fully informed decision, I've created an Evacuation Decision Matrix. Please click on it for a closer view.

Feel free to print it out for easy reference if you need to. For those wanting a more detailed comparison, check out this story from The Galveston County Daily News. They say experience is the best teacher. In the case of hurricanes, it's even better if you can learn from the experience of others.

Outlook grim as Ike approaches

2008-09-12T23:40:00.000-05:00

That's the title of reporter's blog entry from The Galveston County Daily News at 8:00 pm Friday night:

"I hope that the staff at the National Hurricane Center and the local National Weather Service are wrong...

"...[W]e are facing the highest tidal surge since at least the 1900 Storm and possibly even exceeding that if the highest projected tidal surge materializes...

"If the surge threat is not enough, the National Weather Service is calling for 80-95 mph sustained winds with gusts to 105-mph. Hurricane force winds are expected to last for an incredible 8-10 hours on Galveston Island..."

When hurricanes lurk in the Gulf, everyone hopes it doesn't come his or her way and everyone is relieved when a hurricane misses their community.

But no matter where these monsters make landfall, no one is really happy. No one can feel glad knowing what is happening to Galveston tonight.

Our hearts are with Texas tonight.

Running a long race

2008-09-06T22:45:00.005-05:00

Back home, power on, minor damage to the house and yard. We didn't have Internet, so I haven't been able to post an update for a few days.

In New Orleans, Hurricane Gustav will not be remembered for doing billions in physical damage. The majority of my friends and neighbors will remember Gustav for leaving everyone's nerves frayed. Indeed, some have already proclaimed they will not evacuate again.

I've collected a few of the reactions from friends which I think paint the picture well.

"House is a wreck, but I'm comfy and wired now, and oddly exhausted. I think my airplane rubber band unwound. Pent up survival adrenaline all left me in a rush."

"[Road Home] gave all us employees an emergency number on a laminated card to put in with our ID badges. Yer supposed to call it to find out about work. They said they'd have it going, no matter what. Of course, it doesn't work."

"After cleaning up shards, branches and debris off the gallery just now, I started crying. When [my husband] asked me why, I said I feel like I just got done running a long race and don't know if I have to run another one."

"I am soooo tired. I too just wander around the house and don't see any point in doing anything. Depression I guess but in reality, there really is no point in cleaning the house if I have to leave again in 4 days."

Goodbye, Gustav. Hello, Ike.

Notes from the road

2008-09-02T15:29:00.003-05:00

Evacuated to Greenville, Mississippi, waiting and hoping for the best for us and all our friends and family.

Yesterday we ventured out into this little town to get lunch at a local restaurant called Tabb's Barbecue. My Darling Wife had seen an advertisement describing it as, "The best dang barbecue in the whole dang delta." We found it tucked in the middle of a typical strip shopping mall.

And as you could have guessed, it was filled with red checked tablecloths spread over wooden furniture. Each table was outfitted with a roll of paper towels and squirt bottles of barbecue sauce. There was also the obligatory vintage farm tools and product logos nailed up on the walls.

I ordered the pulled pork platter and split it with our Precious Daughter. All-in-all a nice meal, but it was hard to forget the current crisis besieging South Louisiana. Especially because the decor included framed photographs of The Great Flood of 1927. Yes, Greenville is situated on the same river as New Orleans and so they have their history of misery by flooding, too.

Today I saw a story from the AP with this line from hizzoner: "I would not do a thing differently," Nagin said. "I'd probably call Gustav, instead of the mother of all storms, maybe the mother-in-law or the ugly sister of all storms."

Except of course, Gustav is a MAN'S NAME, so HE would not be the mother, mother-in-law nor sister of anything or anyone. Try again, Ray.

News from the neighborhood is almost all good: branches and a tree or two but otherwise all in tact. No power as of this afternoon according to some who remain there.

I've been using Twitter to keep in touch with the NOLA Bloggers and credit them with helping maintain my sanity through this. As I noted in another post, the mainstream media made a total mess of this one. Had it not been for the fact-checking and on-the-scene "tweets" from the hearty NOLA Bloggers I'm sure I would be an emotional wreck right now.

MSM = BS

2008-09-01T22:19:00.002-05:00

If you're like me, you've suspected it for quite some time. The main stream media (msm) often don't have a clue.

But does that stop them from broadcasting?

Absolutely not.

Last night I saw a weatherman from Anywhere-but-Louisiana standing in front of a beautiful satellite montage photo of greater New Orleans. As he spoke and gestured dramatically about the likely path and power of Hurricane Gustav, the photo rotated and zoomed in that fancy Google Earth way that makes you wonder how the heck we got along without this stuff before. As the graphics were doing their thing, the weatherguy continued to talk about the potential storm surge and the threat to St. Bernard. And right smack in the middle of the graphic was "St. Bernard" with its levees all highlighted and easy to see.

Except it wasn't St. Bernard he was showing us--it was New Orleans East.

Doubtless the dramatically gesticulating dude did not know 7th Ward from 9th Ward, either, but who cares? It's just news for goodness sake.

Today, CNN was reporting breaches in the Industrial Canal. Except there were no breaches.

And later, there was a phoned-in interview with someone from the Corps' public affairs office to explain why the London Avenue Canal gates were being closed. There was discussion of the safe water elevation and the need to coordinate pumping with S&WB. During the interview CNN decided to show footage of the Industrial Canal with water to the top of the wall and waves and wind splashing and spraying over the wall. So I'd bet most of America looking at that broadcast thought they were looking at the London Canal floodwalls.

As Maitri advises, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT WATCH CNN AND FOX NEWS!" and she gives a nice link to web page that allows you to watch feeds from four local television stations all at once. Easy and accurate.

Get your news from people who know what they're reporting about.

Again

2008-08-31T20:32:00.003-05:00

I've loss count how many times we've evacuated. Georges, Ivan, Katrina, others I suppose. And now Gustav.

Jarvis DeBerry has an excellent perspective in The Times-Picayune today, writing about the fear of losing again what we've only just regained after losing it three years ago.

We only just moved into our new home in May, just 4 months ago. As we readied to leave in the predawn hours this morning, my Darling Wife stood in the kitchen and covered her face with her hands. I know what she was thinking; she was terrified that after so much effort, so much work and expense, we were still having to evacuate from an oncoming hurricane. We were still not safe.

A moment later she was ready to go, and as we drove out of the city, we held hands.

Hurricane Katrina Quiz: Third Anniversary

2008-08-30T13:59:00.002-05:00

Social justice, anyone?

Try this quiz from the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee and find out the good, the bad and the ugly about recovery help for the most vulnerable citizens of New Orleans.

(Thanks, Loki!)

New Orleans, Hurricane Katrina, 3 years

2008-08-29T00:01:00.007-05:00

From New Orleans and in solidarity with my fellow bloggers, please remember.

http://animamundi.typepad.com/animamundi/2008/08/three-years-and.html
http://adrastos.blog-city.com/three_years.htm
http://www.dsbnola.com/?p=350
http://blogofneworleans.com/blog/2008/08/29/082905-082908/
http://myrants.blog-city.com/8292008.htm
http://humidcity.com/2008/08/29/remember/
http://gentillygirl.com/2008/08/29/third-anniversary/
http://www.first-draft.com/2008/08/hurricane-katri.html
http://www.first-draft.com/2008/08/hurricane-katri.html
http://vatul.net/blog/index.php/1896/
http://noladishu.blogspot.com/2008/08/katrinaversary.html
http://www.suspect-device.com/blog/?p=2468
http://www.scottharney.com/2008/08/29/3-years/
http://prytaniawaterline.com/blog/2008/08/29/remember/
http://some-came-running.blogspot.com/2008/08/sunrise-on-mississippi.html
http://thanks-katrina.blogspot.com/2008/08/katrina-three-years-later.html
http://toulousestreet.wordpress.com/2008/08/29/remember-3/
http://musicandcats.com/2008/08/remember-2/

Still more notes on Rising Tide III

2008-08-27T05:40:00.001-05:00

Some random observations:

- Just before keynote speaker and author John M. Barry spoke, I counted almost 80 people in the room and 11 glowing laptops.

- Cade Roux was blogging on a wacky mint green notebook computer that looked like it was half the size of a full-grown computer. Turns out he borrowed it from his kid for the day. Which worked out well because between panels Varg learned to play with Zwinkys.

- The Rising Tide III poster, shirts and other promotional items featured images of origami cranes. This was a play on so-called "Recovery Czar" Ed Blakely's comment in March 2007 that, "By September, we hope to have cranes on the skyline." Just shy of a year later and no cranes in sight, artist Greg Peters thought the paper cranes might be helpful. Mominem brought a large origami crane to display, but alas the paper was limp and ineffective--just like Blakely.

- Beyond jabbing at the city leadership's ineptitude, I recently learned that in Japan the origami crane is considered a symbol of peace. Legend says that a person who folds 1,000 cranes will have a wish come true. There had been talk of folding a large number of cranes to bring to City Hall, but even though the origami protest did not come to fruition, it pleases me to know that Rising Tide is now a part of the peace movement.

- Clay showed that engineers are not fashion-deaf, arriving Saturday in a sporting summer jacket and a dashing country-club hat. Not to be outdone, Dangerblond wore a vibrantly colored "mood dress" and Clancy DuBos wore the bright blue RISING TIDE III shirt. Which proves the room was just chock-full of genuinely bright people.

- Ashley Morris, the man who loomed so large among NOLA Bloggers, was felt and seen at this year's event. Varg made sure to place Ashley's face at the lower right corner of the conference schedule which was projected on the big screen for most of the day.

- At the conclusion of panels and speakers, Oyster and Leigh handed out the first three Ashley Awards for excellence in blogging. Ashley was the first recipient of the award bearing his name, and the room rose to its feet in applause to honor him. When Karen was given her Ashley Award, she said a few kind words of thanks, and then shouted loud and proud, "FYYFF!"

- Ray has large biceps and I don't. Ray has lots of fancy ink and I don't. Ray refrains from alcohol and I definitely don't. But something I noticed this Saturday we do have in common: we bounce our legs when seated.

- Friday night at the social at Buffa's, Robert Cerasoli waded through the beer and wine glasses to meet the NOLA Bloggers. The Inspector General of New Orleans walked up to meet Jeffrey and immediately declared he was a fan of the yellow blog. We thought it might just be polite banter until Cerasoli began to discuss specific issues presented on the snarkiest blog in the western hemisphere. You would think Jeffrey would have been pleased to have a fan in such a notable position, but no. Jeffrey instead said he could not believe Cerasoli would waste his time reading such a rambling, pointless blog. "Could be worse," I said. "He could be reading the comments at Nola.com."

- Lunch was great thanks to J'anita's on Magazine Street. As I was enjoying the BBQ beef and pulled pork, I remarked to others, "This is really good! I'm so glad no one sponsored lunch and I can eat."

- RISING TIDE swag was all the rage this year. As noted above, Clancy DuBos wore the official imprint shirt all day Saturday and Dangerblond and racymind used their koozies at the after party Saturday night. I guess I waited too long to get over to the merchandise table because when I did they only had XXL shirts. I bought one anyway to "support the cause" and now Precious Daughter is enjoying her new nightshirt decorated with origami cranes. Peace, my girl.

More Notes on Rising Tide III

2008-08-26T05:34:00.001-05:00

The RISING TIDE III journalism panel was almost as much fun as the keynote speaker. First of all, because the topic was of great interest to me. And second, because the panelists maintained an engaging yet humorous tone.

No need to blog about TV's Lee Zurik and the eyebrow-raising comments of the assembled NOLA Bloggers—others have that story covered. I will simply say that Zurik was a plucky sport and withstood the tweezing questions with aplomb. My Precious Wife says it’s not the eyebrows that cause her to wonder. Instead she wants to know, "But does he wear eyeliner?" She will tell you he looks like a prince of Egypt, which I guess is not too shabby a compliment. But eyeliner? That will have to be a question for another day.

Zurik was not only unpretentious, he proved he reads blogs and readily shared credit for busting the NOAH scandal with NOLA Bloggers and "amateur investigators" Karen, Sarah and Eli. For what it’s worth, I’ve found that people who are eager to share credit with others are the most confident and accomplished, so Zurik's stock is up on that account.

And on the NOAH scandal, there was one particularly interesting thing Zurik said that's worth exploring. Essentially he gave our NOLA Bloggers credit for uncovering and researching the story and himself the credit for transmitting that story to a wide audience. Very few bloggers have more than a few hundred regular readers, and none has the daily reach of a news program on a local network affiliate, even in a small market like New Orleans. So that's how the cooperative works according to Zurik: NOLA Bloggers found the story, TV distributed it.

It makes perfect sense because surely there are more people watching television than surfing the Internet. But think about that for just a moment. What will happen in say, 5 or 10 years, when there are just as many people online as in front of the tube? What will happen when consumers of blogs outnumber the consumers of TV news? Once that happens, what added value would TV news bring to the table? Now I'm not going out on a limb predicting the demise of everything Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite created, but it makes for an interesting vision of our possible future.

Kevin Allman was the most introspective of the journalism panel, claiming that journalism is a civic duty. He also cited the ugly willingness of capitalists to take the creative work of bloggers to make money. I agree in large measure with his concerns, but I wanted to tell Kevin, you know, this goes both ways. I and so many other bloggers run our blogs at no out-of-pocket cost thanks to the dozens of totally free web services. I take full advantage of free photo sharing and free web email. At what point do you say, "Hey, freeloader, you have to pay to play"?

I'm all for creative control, but we all know this stuff ain't really free. Somebody is paying for upkeep of the code and the servers and all that entails. They must see financial advantage in giving away these services at no charge, and we are all to willing to oblige them. So we should not be so shocked when schemes arise to recoup on all that investment in the "free" realm of the Internet. I'm just sayin...

Notes on Rising Tide III

2008-08-25T05:55:00.000-05:00

Of course John M. Barry was the highlight of the conference. Perhaps the most learned and easily the most accomplished of speakers and panelists gathered for Rising Tide III, Barry was also as charming and friendly as anyone could have hoped for. He autographed a stack of his books prior to speaking, scribbling "John Barry" in all except for Sophmom who asked for and received a personalized imprint.

I think Barry’s presentation was exactly what the conference was hoping for: historical background, scientific facts and a passionate belief that New Orleans not only can be protected but must be.

And none of this namby-pamby "New Orleans has great food" and "New Orleans has great music." Barry went right to the jugular in pointing out that without the deep-draft ports that stretch some 70 miles in and around New Orleans, ports throughout the interior of the United States would be reduced to hauling corn and manure amongst themselves. If New Orleans is lost, Barry said there will be no more international trade on the waterways in the heart of America.

Will it be expensive to protect New Orleans? Barry did not flinch or attempt to hide the cost, which he said would be at least $100 billion. But how could it not be worth it?

Barry also talked about the challenge of protecting the port city, which by necessity is both close to the sea and close to sea level. He noted that sediment which used to be carried to Louisiana by the Mississippi River has decreased sharply with development upstream, particularly with the installation of locks and hydroelectric dams. (Where have we heard that before?) And because of levees to prevent river flooding, almost all the remaining sediment ends up dumped off the continental shelf into the Gulf of Mexico.

Still, Barry was optimistic. He’s no engineer, but he does seem to have an informed view of the complexities involved in preserving coastal Louisiana. Barry was clear in his conviction that solutions are possible if only the will exists to make it happen.

Overall, it was an excellent presentation and I cannot recall a single statement made by Barry to which I would take exception. Rising Tide participants gave Barry a standing ovation at the conclusion of his talk and Q&A. This was surely a sign of the respect and appreciation we have for all he’s done for New Orleans, including serving on the levee board and writing magazine articles and newspaper op-eds defending and promoting our city.

Still, I’m worried for him. At no point did Barry place full and square blame for the flooding of New Orleans on the Corps of Engineers. When talking of projects that tended to make the coast more vulnerable to storm surge and saltwater intrusion, Barry said, "People built the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. People built the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet."

Recall how Sandy attacked the American Society of Civil Engineers for making presentations to engineering groups and students about Katrina. ASCE spoke of engineering failures and system failures, which Sandy interpreted as a whitewash of the federal government’s culpability and a cover-up for the Corps. If Sandy is consistent in her reasoning and conviction, Barry should expect a harsh press release in the next few days. After all he's done he does not deserve such treatment, so I hope he is spared the assault.

John Barry was an excellent choice for keynote speaker. The organizers of Rising Tide III deserve heaps of praise for their excellent work on this year’s event. And John Barry, too--thanks!

A great event filled with great people

2008-08-24T15:57:00.004-05:00

RISING TIDE III was a big success. I have much to say and write about it in later blog posts.

For now I will simply note that one of my favorite moments was when venerated journalist Clancy DuBos declared, "Ich bin ein Blogger!"

Ride the tide!

2008-08-18T18:20:00.000-05:00

You still haven't registered for RISING TIDE III?

So what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation???

Okay then--here it is (click to enlarge):

For more info and to register, visit http://www.risingtidenola.net/.

"A scar that won't quite heal"

2008-08-17T01:11:00.001-05:00

John McCusker succeeded where I failed: he demolished his slab-on-grade house in the Vista Park neighborhood of New Orleans and built a new, elevated home for his family. For that, John has both my admiration and praise for what he's accomplished and the setbacks he's overcome.

Still, the streets are haunted by what used to be and by what happened there when Hurricane Katrina came roaring into town. He tells his bittersweet story in last Thursday's edition of The Times-Picayune.

Welcome home, John, and best wishes to you and yours. As you have demonstrated, it's all "up" from here.

-------------------
UPDATE: JudyB showed me a slideshow featuring John's original music and a reading of his essay. One photo in the set is of the house of my friend the rocket scientist, who I'm glad to say didn't move to Denver--they only got as far as Metairie. I miss you, Vista Park.

I'll take Atlanta 1996

2008-08-15T23:10:00.001-05:00

The Olympic Games are underway and receiving a lot of attention from news reporters, sports fans and the general public alike, but don't expect to hear me talking about it. That's because the games are taking place in China this year.

The country of China is run by a totalitarian regime. Many things can be found in abundance there, but liberty remains painfully scarce. You can count me out of supporting nations that ban or severely limit freedom of speech and freedom of religion.

So instead of talking about the 2008 games, I'd like to blog about the 1996 games. Instead of joining the chorus of "Oooos" and "Ahhhhs" over the recent opening ceremony from the police state of China, I'd rather talk about the night Atlanta hosted the Olympic opening ceremony and the man who was the final link in the long torch relay to deliver the flame to the games.

In my book, that was the greatest opening ceremony in Olympic history. And it featured the man who coined himself "The Greatest," and most people agreed with him.

The last torch bearers that night were themselves acclaimed Olympic athletes. They carried the flame into the stadium and around the track and up a high ramp to hand it off to the final man in the relay from around the world.

That man stepped slowly, deliberately from the shadows. It was obvious he probably could not have run even if he had wanted to. Holding an unlit torch in his right hand, his left arm shook uncontrollably with the unmistakable jerks brought on by Parkinson's syndrome.

Muhammad Ali, a gold medal athlete from the 1960 games, didn't look all that different than he had when he was known as Cassius Clay. His face remained focused and serious as he touched his torch to the runner's torch to receive the flame. And then, even as his left arm continued to wobble in muscular dysfunction, Ali turned toward the gathering of athletes and dignitaries who filled the stadium and lifted the torch up into the air.

The crowd roared.

Ali did not smile; perhaps it was not possible for him to do so. The man who was in many ways the loudest, boldest symbol of black power, the man who refused military service in a controversial conflict and suffered the loss of his boxing title as a result, the man who defied the conventional model of humble African-American athletes who came before him, the man who was for many years the essence of strength, endurance, and confidence, stood before his peers and the world, barely able to walk and hold a torch.

But no one could doubt in that moment who he was.

He was The Greatest.

And he remains The Greatest, now and always.

Keep China 2008. I’ll take Atlanta 1996.

We know better than anyone what we have

2008-08-12T05:31:00.002-05:00

My sister-in-law was in town with her children to attend a family wedding this weekend. The groom was a nephew, a boy by many measures and yet man enough to enlist in the Army and get married.

He arrived in his Army greens, the brass on his lapels shining almost as much as his shaved head. Everyone thought he looked more handsome and healthier than ever before. I asked him about his assignment in Colorado. He said it was okay, but he fully expected to be "downrange" within a year or two. I immediately understood what he meant, and I was surprised with how easily he spoke of it.

His bride was a slim young girl wrapped elegantly in a beaded white gown, shoulder-less to reveal her tattoos. She had a scorpion on her shoulder blade, and it occurred to me that my soldier nephew might just enjoy a few months with his new bride before having to encounter the real thing in Iraq or Afghanistan. It was a happy occasion trimmed with somber realization.

Earlier that day I had taken my own Precious Daughter and two of her little cousins to City Park. We tried out all the features of the playground, then took our skills to conquer the trees. Ancient, heavy trees. The park is loaded with oak trees, many which might recall the distant sounds of battle when General Jackson turned back the British, and when gunboats steamed up the river during the Civil War.

"This tree is falling down," said one of the children happily as he walked on a branch that stretched horizontally along the ground almost as far as it reached up to the sky. "Gravity eventually overcomes all of us," I said to my own amusement. My response neither informed nor interested him and he continued to explore the ancient oak on his own terms.

The heat eventually drove us toward the old casino building where we found food and drinks and ice cream. My Precious Daughter said it had been closed since Katrina, but was glad to find it recently reopened. Almost three years it had been closed. Three years since the hurricane and flood had soaked our city.

An old song tells us "you don't know what you got till it's gone." That's a true enough observation that I'm sure applies anywhere. But here in New Orleans, where the loss is still so real and present, I'd like to think we know better than anyone what we have. And I hope we can appreciate what we have. I know I'm trying.

Tidal exchange

2008-08-04T23:57:00.001-05:00

Meet and greet, think and drink, listen and learn, orate and organize...

You can do it all at the third annual gathering of NOLA Bloggers later this month.

It's called RISING TIDE III, running from August 22 to 24, right in the middle of New Orleans and the 2008 hurricane season. If you have not signed up yet, now is the time.

Not a blogger? It's okay, nobody will know. Come meet some great people anyway.

This year RISING TIDE features none other than the celebrated author John M. Barry.

Currently a commissioner on the Southeast Louisiana Flood Protection Authority-East, Mr. Barry also just happens to be the author of Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, the definitive book on the flood that dared America to control the Mississippi River.

And check out the official conference poster created by Greg Peters.

Click on the poster to get all the details. Hope to see you there!

Here's mud in your eye

2008-07-28T22:25:00.002-05:00

A recent headline on Yahoo! News decried the loss of soils in the recently flooded states to the north of us. This is particularly significant to us on the southern end of the Mississippi River.

A lot of people have said that we could solve Louisiana's coastal erosion problem by just letting nature do the work for us. We need "The river wild" they say.

But here's a part of the story nobody likes to talk about: sediment load.

That is, how much mud does the muddy Mississippi River contain?

The answer: Not nearly as much as she used to.

Going back as far as 1935 and the birth of the Soil Conservation Service, government at all levels has teamed with private citizens to halt the flow of topsoil washing into the nations' rivers. In recent years EPA has been tightening what is called Total Maximum Daily Load (TMDL) regulations--standards that seek to keep turbidity down.

These and a hundred other well-meaning and beneficial initiatives mean that water flowing past New Orleans today contains just a fraction of mud one would have found in that same water even just a few decades ago.

And what that means is if historically the river was able to build a few hundred square miles of marsh per century, it would take centuries longer to do the same job today.

Would it help to let the river run wild? Yes, but don't count on any help from our neighbors north of the 30th parallel. They need that mud just as much as we do.

Wetlands for hurricane protection might make cents

2008-07-23T19:23:00.000-05:00

A study published in the June 2008 journal of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences attempts to calculate the economic value of wetlands as hurricane and storm surge defense features. I first heard of the study online and was fortunate to find the full text of the journal article here.

It is first important to note what this paper is NOT. It is not an engineering analysis; it is an exercise in econometrics. It does not propose any new design methods, nor does it test any of the natural mechanisms by which wetlands can provide storm protection for human populated areas. Early on the authors acknowledge this fact and note that the best empirical studies they find place the storm surge reduction benefit of wetlands at about 3 inches per mile. Regular readers of this blog will likely recognize that factoid.

What the researchers have done is gathered a ream of existing hurricane data, applied some simplifying assumptions to fill data gaps, and crunched the numbers through a series of statistical tests. The result, the authors can claim with some credibility, is that the value of wetlands as hurricane storm barriers can be expressed in dollars.

This is not a new problem. Economists have struggled to quantify the monetary value of natural features for decades. The vexing part of the problem is how to properly and fully equate wild lands and habitats in economic units of dollars used to store and trade wealth in human commerce.

Take any forest, for example. What is it worth? Is it simply the market value of its trees cut down and shipped to the mill plus the going rate for its developed acreage? We know this is not the right answer because forests have ecological value as carbon storage centers and aesthetic value as places humans enjoy seeing in person and in pictures.

Government agencies have for this reason studiously avoided placing economic value on wild lands. If forced to complete in the market of capitalist values, naturally occurring features will almost always lose out to commercial development. Environmental scientists instead have been using other more nature-based measures such as the Wetland Value Assessment and assigning "Habitat Units" in lieu of pure dollars to compare alternative land uses.

The authors of the Royal Swedish study set out to define the relationship between raw acreage of natural features as storm defense systems and the avoided damage from those same storms. First, they obtained a data set of hurricanes that struck the US Atlantic and Gulf coasts since 1980. This data included storm path, intensity and estimates of damage. They found a wealth of scientific and economic data in the Emergency Events Database (www.emdat.be) created and maintained by the World Health Organization, the Centre for Research on the Epidemiology of Disasters, and the Belgian Government.

Next, they needed to calculate the total possible damage of strike locations. By comparing the experienced damage with the theoretical maximum possible damage, the researchers aimed to quantify the value of avoided damage. And this is where the econometric gymnastics kicks in. The authors took statistical data on US and individual state gross domestic product (GDP) and assigned a GDP value to a map of coastal America on a grid resolution of 1 kilometer square. Because GDP data is not readily available in this resolution, they interpolated and assigned GDP value by looking at satellite photographs taken at night. Areas brightly lit were given higher GDP values than dim or dark areas of the country.

Armed with this data, the authors ran the numbers and found some statistically significant relationships. Their primary discovery was that damage in areas near wetlands was reduced proportionally with the quantity of wetlands. Everyone has long acknowledged this fact, but here was proof--expressed in dollars.

The researches went further and attempted to calculate the average annual benefit of wetlands as storm protection. Their conclusion: wetlands save America from billions in storm damage year in and year out.

But let's not get too far ahead here. I have some serious misgivings about the methods employed and with the way the results were tabulated and presented. I will elaborate on some of them here.

1. It is interesting to note that the methods employed here failed to provide satisfactory results in several key instances. For instance, researchers had to limit their analysis to only the US Atlantic and Gulf coasts because of the scarcity of data. They admit to wishing they could apply their skills to the thousands of known disastrous tsunamis, monsoons and other coastal storm events, but found insufficient data to do so. The resulting data set includes just 34 hurricanes out of the nearly 270 major storms to strike the US during the selected period.

2. The researchers initially set out quantify the storm barrier benefits of forested wetlands, too, but found the statistical correlation not significant enough to support their hypothesis. Several widely published papers have touted the benefits of mangrove and cypress swamps in knocking down storm effects. The authors of this study could not validate that claim, and it makes me wonder why they proceeded with their work in spite of that glaring problem.

3. The use of GDP as a measure of potential storm damage leaves much to be desired. GDP is an expression of economic productivity; it says nothing about the present value of homes, businesses and other infrastructure that fall victim to nature's fury. Likewise, the Emergency Events Database records the total estimated damage wrought by storms. This would include wind and rain damages, but it is primarily the storm surge damage that is thought to be muted by wetlands.

4. To convert their calculation of avoided damage into an annually recurring value, the authors developed hurricane return frequencies using a data set with a period of just 25 years. This is hardly a large enough sample to extrapolate reliable return frequencies.

5. The authors conclude their paper with an editorial on the virtues of wetlands far beyond the apparent correlation to protection of human economic activity. They opine how coastal wetlands are "maintained by nature" and that such features are "far more cost-effective than constructed levees." But there is absolutely nothing in this article to support these conclusions. Indeed, the authors themselves note that Hurricane Katrina alone destroyed some 50,000 acres of wetlands.

These are just a few of the shortcomings of the study.

It is also important to note that the study tells us nothing about how and where to build wetlands as part of a storm defense system. The study considers gross acreage in the path of hurricanes assumed to be 100-km wide; nowhere does the study enlighten us as to how we would go about designing a wetlands plan.

I was disappointed that the researchers included the rather colloquial analogy that wetlands function as "horizontal levees." In fact, all physical features exist in three dimensions: earthen levees and wetlands both have length, width and height. The difference is the primary storm defense benefit of levees lies in their height, while the frictional resistance of wetlands is manifest in their area--length and width. But to equate the two, as if to suggest one could substitute some acreage of wetlands for some or all of a levee is ludicrous--if not dangerous.

It is noted that as I was preparing this blog entry, The Times-Picayune ran a story on the study that seized upon the expression "horizontal levees" as if it were a valid scientific result of this study. It is not.

I think the study represents a remarkable effort to quantify the hurricane defense benefits of wetlands in dollars--not an easy task--even if the results seem exaggerated to my eye. As an engineer, I find little in the study to help me understand and design these vital systems. But perhaps the study gives our society the justification and incentive to take wetland preservation and construction seriously as a bonafide contributor in our overall strategy to protect coastal developments. In the end, much research remains to be done before this general appreciation of wetlands can become a plan of action with predictable results.

Fundraiser for the Ashley Morris Memorial

2008-07-19T23:44:00.001-05:00

A space oddity?

2008-07-11T12:51:00.002-05:00

It was 29 years ago today that America's first space station, Skylab, came falling down to Earth. Some people at the office were talking about it and I recalled that it was quite a newsworthy event.

Pat O'Brien's even created a potent cocktail to commemorate the event. They called it the "Skylab Fallout."

But I was surprised to find I was the only person in the group who had ever heard of it.

Surely other people recall getting knocked dizzy in the French Quarter by a Skylab Fallout!

Exposed weaknesses

2008-07-09T23:02:00.003-05:00

At the Rising Tide 2 conference, writer and panelist Joshua Clark commented that Hurricane Katrina exposed many weaknesses in our lives. I wrote it down back when I first heard it last August, and I've been thinking about it here and there since.

The idea stuck with me.

As an engineer, I recognize how minor flaws can become major problems under certain conditions. A hairline crack in concrete can let in moisture. That moisture can cause rust in reinforcing steel, which in turn exerts pressures that will further crack the encasing concrete.

Weaknesses can go undetected for weeks, months, years, and then... a bridge falls, or a tower crane buckles, or a floodwall bends and bows to failure.

Engineers also understand that loads transfer from one part of a structure to another. If one connection of a truss fails, it might not result in an immediate collapse. The load will be transferred to another connection, much the same way a current of electricity will seek the shortest path to ground, or water the swiftest path to the ocean. This load transfer is automatic and instantaneous.

If the new connection can't hold the load, it too will fail and send the load to the next connection. Sometimes this transfer/failure/transfer cycle happens quickly--resulting in a successive collapse. Sometimes, it goes undetected for a while.

I've been thinking about the load of Hurricane Katrina on us, our lives, our community, and our support system. When something fails to hold up, do the others race in to help? And if the load and stress of this disaster and the rebuilding process pile on, will we stay strong, or will we suffer sudden or rapid successive collapse in our lives?

You could say we've already seen this happen at the District Attorney's office. Inefficiencies, blunders and scandals accumulated and brought down Eddie Jordan's office and career. It started out small, but grew over many months until the ability of the public to stomach the news had been completely diminished. It was a textbook illustration of the expression, "The straw that broke the camel's back."

I also think we see this happening with housing. With so many displaced from their homes, demand for rentals and rental rates are up dramatically. Amazingly the federal government and the city decided this was the time to tear down most public housing projects. The stress of housing has transferred from one market to the next, so that we can truly say there is a housing crisis in New Orleans.

Families feel the strain, too. The recent death of NOLA blogger Ashley Morris shows us how the burdens of life are distributed. The stress and strain was quickly transferred--shared--throughout the Morris family's circle of friends. Several NOLA blogger stepped in mightily to help them bear the load.

And the Morris family survives.

So I think I'd like to add a thought to Joshua Clark's observation. Katrina exposed weaknesses, yes, but she also revealed our strengths.

And not just as a matter of contrast. Just because one floodwall fell over and the one next to it did not is no reason to think that remaining floodwall is somehow representative of an ideal design; it just means it was at least a tiny bit better than the one that fell.

No, I'm thinking that New Orleans is a city of many strengths--strengths that were there all along, but we overlooked them or forgot them in the day-to-day journey of life.

Sense of community, love of neighborhood and civic pride are some examples. Would we say that these have sprung full-grown from our wounded city? Or isn't it more likely we had these things all along? I think it took several feet of flood water to push these powerful sentiments to the surface. And to this day if anybody says a cross word to us about being "stupid to live below sea level" you can bet they'll get both barrels of love right back.

Like travelers on a yellow brick road, we've been through hell and high water just to find out that what we were searching for we had all along.

I know we'll never forget that awful August three years ago, when unforgiving nature exposed and exploited all our weaknesses.

But I also hope we'll remember our discovered strengths, and that it's because of those strengths that we're still here.

"Those tiles will be replaced"

2008-07-01T22:56:00.003-05:00

That's what Entergy V.P. Rusty Burroughs said. His letter of apologies and promises was printed in the newspaper.

And so two months later, NOLA Blogger Oyster goes back to check and finds...

ENTERGY HAS DONE NOTHING.

Back on track

2008-06-27T22:40:00.001-05:00

I don't know who had the idea or made it happen, but they deserve praise.

This week the streetcars returned to Carrollton Avenue. For the first time since Hurricane Katrina tried to drown New Orleans, you can ride a streetcar from Claiborne Avenue to Canal Street via the world famous St. Charles Avenue streetcar line.

And somebody had the wisdom and forethought to put up these signs.

Automobiles cross paths with the streetcars at each of dozens of cross streets cutting across the neutral ground. After an absence just shy of three years, automobile drivers have likely fallen out of the habit of looking out for the streetcars. Hopefully these signs will remind drivers to be on the lookout.

This is positive and proactive and I like it.

Compare this to the stoplight camera scheme.

In the past few months the City of New Orleans and its neighbor in Metairie both installed cameras at intersections to catch drivers crossing through red lights. The goal, government officials said, is to improve public safety. Additional revenue brought by fines, government officials said, is just coincidental to the plan.

But what are the rules about crossing under a yellow light? Is anyone really sure? Ask any two drivers about traffic light rules and you'll get three different answers about what is legal and illegal when it comes to yellow and red lights. Where is the effort to educate the driving public of what is safe and unsafe? Where is the public education on the correct rules for traffic lights?

Apparently, nobody thought it necessary to provide information. They just put up cameras and started mailing invoices. The plan, it seems, is that once a driver is forced to write a check, he'll learn.

This is why I was so pleased with the "Back on Track" signs. They inform and educate in order to promote safety, and that is the way it should be.

Cats at home

2008-06-09T20:10:00.000-05:00

Hurricanes Katrina and Rita were tough on a lot of people, but they were also tough on our animals. You could say that for our pets Callie and Smudge, it was a complete cat-astrophe!

(Okay, okay, a very bad pun. Last one, I promise.)

Callie and Smudge are our two remaining cats. Prior to the storm we had four cats and took every one of them with us when we fled town in the middle of the night almost three years ago. Packed into cat carriers, stacked on the back seat next to our Precious Daughter, I think it's safe to say they were pretty traumatized in those first days.

They did not watch the round-the-clock news coverage of the storm, the wall failures, the flooding, the failed relief effort, the bodies abandoned around the city, the desperate cries of help from the Superdome and convention center. They could not comprehend the enormous force of nature bearing down upon the city nor the necessity of driving away in the middle of the night. It must have scared the heck out of them.

If even a slender parallel can be drawn between the experience of our cats with the suffering of our neighbors here, it would be in the uncertainty. After the flood, thousands of displaced citizens were herded onto busses with no indication of where they were going or what awaited them once they got there: I imagine this is what our cats experienced, too.

We evacuated with four cats, but we gave two away. In those first few days when we realized we could not go home--we had no home to go to--we were very fortunate to have several options as we were invited to stay with close relatives. But we knew having so many pets would be a burden on our hosts. We knew that the coming months of moving from place to place would be difficult on our older cats. A difficult decision, but we put two of our cats up for adoption in Dallas. They're still there.

Our journey with the two remaining cats took us from Texas to Virginia and back to New Orleans where we've lived in two temporary homes until we finally settled in our new house just in the last few weeks.

I've blogged about my furry friends before, as at each stop in our journey they've had to learn, adjust and adapt to their new surroundings. They seem to have handled it well. How can I tell? They eat and sleep and seem to be in every way the same cats we've had for these several years.

Here at the new house, it's not just a new place. It's filled with all new furniture and beds and bedding. I had thought it would take them a while to adjust since almost everything here is new and strange. Well, there's US, but you know what I mean.

And as expected, they did slink cautiously around for the first day and hid under the bed for most of the next two days. But it wasn't long before they were lounging on our new king-sized bed as if they had been born into such privilege.

Callie, with her exquisite long and puffy coat of calico-spotted fur, looks especially content when she rolls halfway on her back and stretches her paws out over her head. It's tempting to want to rub her soft white belly when she does this, but anyone who approaches is quickly rebuffed with a warning glare of her golden eyes.

Smudge, always the more passive of the two, prefers to curl her thin body up in a tight spiral when she's taking a power nap. She's a short-hair Siamese, and her favorite sleeping pose is to coil her brown tail around her mostly white body and put a paw over her closely-set blue eyes.

Seeing them this way on the bed or enjoying the cool hardwood floors, I know they're comfortable. I know that they've accepted (yet again) the place their keepers have carried them to. I know they feel at home and they're happy to be here.

And I can tell you that it makes me feel cat-egorically happy, too.

(Oops! Just couldn't stop myself.)

Storm driven

2008-06-04T17:33:00.001-05:00

Massachusetts gets it:

New rules requiring sturdier construction of coastal homes may help protect against wind damage - but at a cost

Texas does not:

Texas building codes lag behind Gulf neighbors

Discuss amongst yourselves.

Eternal vigilance

2008-06-03T20:31:00.001-05:00

We were all talking about the high water on the Mississippi River a few weeks ago. Since then, the river stage at New Orleans rose to 17.0, Bonnet Carre Spillway was opened, millions of gallons of water were shunted into Lake Pontchartrain, the river stage finally began to fall, and Bonnet Carre Spillway was closed.

In sum, an exciting and rare event.

But that's not why we paid so much attention. A few weeks ago, nobody was expressing awe at the rarity of the event.

We were worried.

We worried that the Mississippi River levees might not hold, or that the spillway diversion might not be enough, or that if the river ever got loose... Well, let's just say Hurricane Katrina and every other catastrophe in the nearly 300-year history of this city would have been knocked one notch down the list of worst disasters.

But I think all this worrying is good. When we worry, we pay attention. When we worry, we acknowledge the importance of maintaining a strong system of protections, and we encourage thinking about consequences and contingencies.

There's the old expression, "When we fail to plan, we plan to fail."

But even more relevant is this expression from the time of the American Revolution: "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."

"Vigilance" as in keeping watch over the state and federal agencies who design, build and maintain the levees, walls and gates. "Vigilance" as in keeping apace with changing technology and scientific understanding of the threats. "Vigilance" as in maintaining the urgency and critical life-safety purpose of the protections.

"Eternal" as in always and forever. When the last load of clay is dumped and spread and compacted on that final levee, the job will still not be done. Maintenance must be ongoing and uninterrupted. Designs must be checked periodically to assure effectiveness under changing coastal conditions. The work must go on.

We all have our parts in this effort. Government will establish standards and enforce rules, and citizens must support and in fact encourage the prosecution of work.

And we who live behind these walls and levees know that if we stop paying attention, all kinds of bad things will happen.

Not "can happen" but "will happen."

If we are not vigilant, money for the required work will get diverted elsewhere. If we are not vigilant, the goal of effective, resilient flood protection will become the goal of bringing in a marginal project on schedule and under budget. If we are not vigilant, the carefully calculated decisions of safety-oriented engineers will be replaced with the whims of policy wonks and accountants, political appointees and the NIMBY neighborhood associations.

Am I preaching to the choir here?

Let's hope so. Let's hope that just shy of three years since that horrible event we're still laser focused on what really counts to this water-tested community. Let's hope we can keep that focus for 30 years or 60 years or 90 years and more, because that's what it will take.

We're eternally vulnerable, so we've got to be eternally vigilant.

Yes, all of the above

2008-05-29T06:12:00.002-05:00

Where is the optimism I had two years ago? In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, I was sorry for myself, but not sad. When I saw the carcass of what was once our home--dank, molded and smelling like a garbage truck--I was filled with sadness, but not remorse.

I don't know if that makes sense to anyone except me, but it's how I used to feel.

And somehow, I was defiant. I was determined. I was optimistic. I started writing this blog to express those sentiments to myself, my family and friends, and the world.

Now that we have a new house and we officially sold our vacant property to the Road Home, I feel very different.

I feel tired, and beaten, and a bit depressed about it.

Am I tired because this has been going on for so damn long? Is it because our particular "Road Home" has been a winding, uphill trek of more than two and half years? Is it the long hours I've been working, saddled with the "time off" spent working on the "new" house?

Am I beaten because I originally envisioned a new house on our property in Vista Park, rising high above the ground to escape future floods and strapped down at every stud to resist powerful winds? Is it because I had to take down that sign we had out front for the past year, the one that proudly proclaimed, "We're rebuilding"?

Am I depressed because I see the slow, painful progress of my once beautiful neighborhood, and I know that I am doing nothing to help? Am I shook up by my neighbors who have not elevated their homes but merely nailed up new sheetrock, as if the basic flood protection here, still under construction, was in fact bulletproof and finished? Does it bother me that national newspapers print smug and insulting stories of our struggle to recover from a disaster of biblical proportions, while local media uncritically print and broadcast the unsubstantiated allegations of angry and irrational critics?

Yes, all of the above.

I tell myself things will get better. I tell myself my life will be easier in a few weeks once we've fully unpacked and settled into our new home, leaving behind forever the tiny lifestyle of a FEMA travel trailer. I tell myself that buying a house and investing in New Orleans is a positive act of helping with the recovery.

I tell myself that the unreasoned scorn of strangers outside of Louisiana is not important, that their anger is theirs own alone. I tell myself that New Orleans was created by outcasts, misfits and adventurers, and that the only proper way to rebuild it will be with the help of outcasts, misfits and adventurers.

And I make it a rule never to lie to myself.

More than two years after the water went down, I still have a house full of love, appreciation and support. I still live in one of the great cities of the world. I still have a lot to look forward to.

Oh, there's that optimism!

Vagaries of government decisionmakers and whims of developers

2008-05-20T21:45:00.000-05:00

"One guy is building 12 feet in the air because he's freaked out. The next guy is building at eight feet because that's the new flood regs. The next guy is building at four feet because he's grandfathered in [to the pre-Katrina code requirements], and the next guy is building right on the beach because he knew somebody at city hall and was able to get away with it."

Except for the beach part, you could almost imagine this is about Louisiana.

But it's not: it's coastal Mississippi.

Read the full story from The Christian Science Monitor.

The essential luxury

2008-05-17T08:07:00.002-05:00

Here is what I like about our new home: Hot water.

Oh sure, there are hardwood floors, a king size bed and the breeze-swept balcony with a view of the New Orleans skyline. My Darling Wife loves the high ceilings and fans and our Precious Daughter is enjoying her red and black room with full-length mirrors on the closet doors.

But for me, the greatest improvement in quality of life is the new bathroom.

Let me explain.

Here's how my mornings used to go: My alarm would go off. I would turn on the hot water heater. I would reset my alarm for 15 minutes. I would go back to bed. My alarm would go off again. I would get ready to shower. I would stoop slightly and step into the tub. I would remain bent because if I stood straight my head would hit the ceiling of the trailer. I would shower and shave as quickly as possible, because the trailer hot water tank only held about 6 gallons and it usually lasted about 15 minutes.

That's how it was for about 22 months in the FEMA Travel Trailer.

Here's how my morning goes now: My alarm goes off. I get ready to shower. I stand up and no stooping or bending is required. I stand under the strong spray of hot water for as long as I please. I emerge happy.

If clean water is one of the hallmarks of a civilized living, hot water is one of its essential luxuries.

Oh, I could probably wax poetic about the essential nature of water versus the sensuous pleasure of a hot shower, or even the paradoxical relationship we have with water since it was, after all, a water event that plunged us all into this long journey of misery in the first place.

But I'll let that alone for now.

I suppose at one time or another we've all been deprived of the luxury of a hot shower. Whether camping or during a power or gas outage, we probably had to deal with the inconvenience of little or no hot water for a day or two.

Well that's nothing. Try it for 22 consecutive months.

And then you'll know why my favorite part of the new house is all wet.

Unambiguously home

2008-05-01T23:50:00.001-05:00

There is a line that runs through all our lives here. It marks the place where everything changed.

It is first and foremost the water line. Thirty-two months ago, every house, pole, tree, car and street sign in the flooded parts of New Orleans bore the line. We've washed that ugly stain from most of our homes now, but the line remains. I can still see the line in my own neighborhood--the line that separates what survives from what dies.

Everyone knows that to survive, you must stay above the water line. That water line was the subject of a song by Paul Soniat. He sings about how a lot of lives "fell below the water line" in 2005. A lot of relationships, jobs and schools fell below the water line and did not reemerge.

The City of New Orleans is ignoring the water line. At City Hall, the only line they notice is the imaginary line drawn on the flood insurance maps. All they seem to care about is the Base Flood Elevation, that magical line that will allow you to get a building permit, and the best flood insurance rate, and the peace of mind we all crave. Or not.

There are other lines.

There is the line on the calendar that separates our lives in time. It is a line that separates the lives of the people of New Orleans into pre-K and post-K. It starkly separates our lives between how we lived before August 29, 2005, and after. In far too many cases, it starkly separates life and survivors from the dead.

And surviving the hurricane and flood was not an end; it was the beginning of the survivor saga. Fellow blogger Karen Gadbois wrote to me, "Funny how this storm has turned us all into other things." She sees how people have changed where they live, where they work, where they go to school. She knows people who are doing things they never dreamed and never planned to do. But they crossed the line in time and they changed.

For instance, we all know a lot more about flood maps and how to navigate insurance claims than we did before. I always thought I was up to speed on insurance, but you never really know until something happens. You never really know what lurks in the fine print until you get a form letter from the insurance company that matter-of-factly describes what is covered and for how much.

And having traversed that timeline in 2005, we all know more about tropical weather forecasting than ever before. During the past two anxious hurricane seasons, everyone here was keenly aware of every puff of rainy weather in the Gulf of Mexico or Atlantic.

Another NOLA blogger, Mark Folse said, "I don't think anyone without AMS certification knew anything about Invests, etc. until after K. Now we're all looking at computer model tracks and wondering about the reliability of this model over that, thinking about sea surface temp, wind shear, etc."

When we crossed that line, we all became armchair meteorologists, studying the maps and reading the reports and checking the computer modeling. I haven't heard of any fantasy forecasting leagues starting up yet, but surely one cannot be far from forming.

And then there is the line for help. Lines of people at the Road Home closing center. Lines of citizens at City Hall trying to get permits, or to talk sense to their Assessors. Lines at the hardware stores.

Now my family is approaching yet another line, a line that will officially denote our passage from Post-K to Post-Post-K. We bought a new house and we're moving in this weekend. For the first time since Katrina filled our city with despair, we will have a roof over our heads that we can call our own. We will sleep in beds that belong to us and us alone. We will change our voter registration and discard stationary with our "old" address on it.

We fled the city and our home in August 2005, seeking shelter with family in Texas and Virginia, brief stays in friends' undamaged houses in Harahan and uptown New Orleans, a few months in an expensive apartment in the Sliver by the River, and almost 22 months in a FEMA Travel Trailer.

We bounced around quite a bit, but only now are we landing safely in a place we can unambiguously call, "home."

My family for the past almost three years has been somewhat controlled by a broken line on the highway, a line on a map, a line on the calendar, a line to get help, a line of credit to replace what was lost, and of course, the water line.

Most of these stories are recorded in the lines on our faces. I'm hoping that by this time next week, the dominant line on my face will be a smile.

The Sounds of New Orleans

2008-04-27T23:09:00.002-05:00

We spent the day working at the new house, painting and getting ready for furniture and the final “move-in.” D-Day is Saturday, May 3.

Our new house is just a few blocks from The Fair Grounds, host of the annual Jazz Fest. We had the windows and doors open, but we heard nothing more than a few booms and thumps carried on the wind. Nothing you could identify as anything other than just remnants of music.

Fortunately we had the radio, and WWOZ was broadcasting select acts from the Blues Tent. That’s how I was able to hear Delbert McClinton late in the afternoon. Had I been able to get the Jazz Fest today, I would have been in the Blues Tent for that set.

At one point, my Darling Wife asked that we turn the radio off. “What will we listen to?” asked the Precious Daughter, who was a great help and did her best to keep her budding teen angst at bay. “The Sounds of Silence,” I said.

“We’ll listen to the birds, the cars, the people on the street,” she said earnestly. “We’ll listen to the world around us.”

That struck me and the Precious Daughter as a radical idea, but we gave it a try for a while.

Two interesting observations from this experiment: because of Jazz Fest, there were two small planes circling The Fair Grounds. They were trailing advertising banners and they buzzed over our house at regular intervals. I hadn’t noticed that when the radio was on.

The second thing I noticed was the frequent wail of sirens. We’re near Esplanade and right off Broad, two busy streets that carry a lot of traffic. We experienced the same thing a few years ago when we lived for a year on Esplanade near City Park.

Sirens. Day and night. Believe it or not, you get used to it.

After a long day, we cleaned up and headed back to the trailer. There was a hard rain again this afternoon and the many vacant lots in Vista Park were no doubt saturated. The sun had set and the street lights shined off the wet pavement.

As we walked from car to the FEMA Travel Trailer, my wife noted the echoing noise that filled the street. “Listen to those happy frogs,” she said.

A chorus of amphibian singers filled the night. There was a steady “Chirp, chirp, chirp” being carried by a countless collection of frogs, punctuated by the longer “Ree-bee, ree-bee” and the warbling bass section.

These are the sounds of New Orleans today: frogs, sirens, Jazz Fest.

And these sounds remind me again of the diversity of life in the Crescent City: a soundtrack with room for everybody and everything, a soundtrack worth listening to.

Ashley put street name tiles in the news

2008-04-25T07:18:00.005-05:00

A letter from Entergy assures us that New Orleans' distinctive street name tiles will be replaced by the utility company as it proceeds with routine work in our historic neighborhoods. They blame the whole unfortunate episode on "a subcontractor's crew."

And while they claim to have uncovered and dealt with the issue on their own, they mention columnist Chris Rose who wrote briefly about it in The Times-Picayune two weeks ago.

I have no reason to doubt their story, but do take exception that they credit Mr. Rose for calling attention to the matter without any credit to the man who first kicked over this ant pile: Ashley Morris.

Yes, Ashley Morris, the same "pain in the ass" neighbor of Mr. Rose who the columnist realized too late was a true friend of New Orleans.

There's a big difference between people who talk and people who do. It is my observation that the "complainer" gene is rampant in the species, and people like Mr. Rose are an excellent example. By definition, reporters show up after the fact and scribble notes about what happened. Columnists like Mr. Rose complain about why something happened or did not happen largely for entertainment value.

But the credit for making something--anything--happen rarely if ever goes to the journalists. It is the "citizen soldiers" who carry the battle to the enemy. People who show up at City Council meetings and speak up. People who write letters and campaign for good causes. People who alert their neighbors and agitate for change when things go awry.

People like Ashley and the exceptional crew of NOLA Bloggers.

Mr. Rose would marginalize these doers. To him, folks like Ashley are mere "voices in the wilderness, raging at the machine." Although he wrote these words as praise of Ashley, there is clearly a belittling tone to writing that someone spends his time "tilting at windmills."

Well Mr. Rose's column and the letter from Entergy appear to dispel that myth.

Street name tiles are in the news because Ashley made them news.

We interred Ashley's remains several weeks ago, but don't think that means he's finished.

As agile and responsive as the world in which we live

2008-04-18T06:58:00.000-05:00

In early 2006, the US House of Representatives weighed in with their assessment of the Hurricane Katrina disaster. Their report, "Failure of Initiative," came out too early to be able to discuss the engineering specifics but was nevertheless a thoughtful look at the big picture issues.

The major take-away for me was this statement:

"Officials at all levels seemed to be waiting for the disaster that fit their plans, rather than planning and building scalable capacities to meet whatever Mother Nature threw at them. We again encountered the risk-averse culture that pervades big government, and again recognized the need for organizations as agile and responsive as the 21st century world in which we live."

(From the Report by the Select Bipartisan Committee to Investigate the Preparation for and Response to Hurricane Katrina, http://katrina.house.gov/)

Two big ideas there.

First, since when does Nature play by our rules? She does not, so anyone who plans for a specific scenario and ignores all other scenarios is planning a catastrophe.

And second, you don't avoid risk by ignoring it. You can pretend that there is no risk, but all you're doing is pretending.

When I read the report about two years ago, I immediately copied down that quote and kept it close. I like to remind myself of those two big ideas from time to time, and I hope it helps keep my guard up.

But then recently I gained a new insight. This statement, written to chastise government agencies and functionaries, has much broader application. Could not almost the same be said of many rank-and-file citizens?

Because surely, if we rebuild our houses at exactly the so-called 100-year flood elevation and not one inch higher, if we refuse to even consider raising our homes and simply repair them where they are, regardless of the reality that there recently was 6 or 8 or 10 feet of water in them, are we not guilty of the same poor habits the congressional report excoriates?

And if we rebuild New Orleans and the surrounding communities in exactly the same way, refusing even to consider doing anything differently, rejecting all attempts at improvement, and fail to take advantage of this opportunity to change things, what will be said about the citizens of New Orleans if (when) the city floods again?

We may very well find ourselves accused of "Failure of Initiative."

River rising

2008-04-10T12:15:00.000-05:00

Everybody's talking about the rising Mississippi River and the levees that keep it in check. And I'm not just talking about in the coffee shops and beauty parlors of New Orleans; my office is intense with activity.

It's called a flood fight, and with good reason.

When the water gets this high, even though reliably forecast to peak several feet lower than the tops of the levees, the weeks of water pressure and velocity on the levees will take their toll. As in any battle, troops will be deployed and defenses will need to be reinforced as the fight goes on. In 1973, I understand there were two locations where the main levee was showing signs of considerable stress, so a backup levee was constructed to keep the river at bay.

This is normal procedure. Cause for concern--yes. Cause for panic--no.

This is considerably different than a hurricane event. For one, the river is a well defined problem. We have mountains of historical data and a thorough understanding of how its waters flow. Hurricanes, to the contrary, are still very unpredictable. The National Weather Service has made huge strides in tropical cyclone prediction in recent decades, but it remains a game of odds. We don't have such gaps of knowledge when facing our foe in the Mississippi River. We know what's coming and when with great accuracy.

When a hurricane comes, all we can do is run away or hide behind levees. Again, a flood fight is different in that we can do much more. We have tools at our disposal--spillways that we can use to reduce pressure on our levees and divert the peak flows of the river.

Another difference is in how we conduct the fight. During the height of a hurricane it is simply not possible to closely monitor flood defenses or to attempt repairs. Even pump operators must take refuge in armored "safe houses" when the wind is at its worst. But the Mississippi River provides no such obstacle. Throughout the flood fight, inspectors will drive the levees and look for even the smallest indication of trouble. And when trouble occurs, crews will be able to respond quickly.

We can take solace in the knowledge that the river has not flooded the city since then: the levees have worked every time.

However, we must not let any of this lead us to be complacent. Just as we should never forget the hard lessons of 2005, we must always remember the suffering of 1927.

There's a reason it's called a flood fight. And the fight is on.

Remember Ashley Morris

2008-04-08T01:30:00.005-05:00

"Ashley Morris, PhD, passed away on April 2nd, 2008. Ashley was a father, a husband, a teacher, a scientist, a musician, and above all, a New Orleanian. He was a fiery spirit who inspired and energized anyone whose life he touched. Ashley left behind a wife and three small children and expenses are mounting. Please remember Ashley and help his family by making a donation through the PayPal link below."

Ashley Morris Fund

Keep Me in Your Heart

2008-04-08T01:00:00.001-05:00

Greg Peters over at Suspect Device gives us this tribute to Dr. Ashley Morris. It features photos of his family and friends and the music of Warren Zevon.

Ashley Morris

2008-04-03T13:23:00.005-06:00

Died yesterday.

It's hard to believe someone who lived and loved with such ferocity could suddenly be... gone.

The NOLA Bloggers are still in shock, but so too are they mobilizing to help Ashley's wife and three children. Talk of fundraising and memorials that will carry his passions forward are in high gear.

Ashley was both large and larger than life. As passionate and enraged as he often was on his blog, in person he was one of the most considerate and affable people you could possibly know.

Some quick stories to remember:

When we had what was left of our house demolished, I blogged about losing my albums. My music collection was mostly 70's and 80's rock and punk, and I lamented that many were either too rare or too local to ever replace. Ashley immediately rushed in to help. He offered to give me his collection of old LPs and a turntable that he said he no longer used. Ashley noted that we shared a similar appreciation for early punk rock. Tempting as it was, I had to turn him down because there was no room in a FEMA travel trailer for such a gift. Undeterred, he later offered to give me a TV.

When the Saints returned to the Superdome, Ashley was right there. His blogs about that experience were so powerful, so completely heartfelt for something as trivial as a football game--yet Ashley was able to make the connection between a mere game and the soul of this struggling city, a city down physically and emotionally. His words poured out of his blog like fine wine, each phrase so delicious to savor. Out of the blue one day, Ashley invited me to be his guest at the next Saints game. This time I took him up on his generosity and we enjoyed a smashing Saints victory.

Ashley later had a large fleur de lis inked into his arm. When I saw him at Rising Tide II last year, I immediately asked to see the tattoo. Ashley's grin grew as wide as his biceps as he yanked up his sleeve. Nobody ever loved such a dysfunctional, backward, messed-up place as New Orleans as much as Ashley did.

Nobody.