+ Reply to Thread
Results 1 to 9 of 9

Thread: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

  1. #1
    Satiate's Avatar Senior Member
    Join Date
    May 2004
    Location
    Tampa, FL
    Posts
    135

    Default Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    I wrote this in my Live Journal today... and I wanted to share... I don't expect you all to get it... But well, even if one of you does... I will feel like I did this for the right reasons...

    Today…

    It is a day of remembrance. It is a day where lover’s lost hope. Where fathers lost wives. Grandparents lost homes. Children lost mothers. This marks an awful day in our American history that to this day is still swept under the rug.

    New Orleans.

    She’s the bastard child. The pagan goddess. The get-a-way plan. The dastardly vacation. It’s the marker of the soul of which really represents everything of the American spirit. Where just miles in any direction can take you to the ocean, the river, the swamp, the gravel roads, the soybean fields, and the farms… You name it. They can kill it, grill it and you will eat it smiling. It’s a city built on hoodoo legends, delta blues deaths, haunted houses full of displaced spirits, swilling spirits, loving rogues, lusty pirates, crafty traders, jazz band death marching parades, broken on the backs of the unfortunate, whispered in the empty halls of the houses of the rising sun, the bedspring kiss of a humid affair of the heart.

    They have their own language. Their own music. Their own spirit. Their own heart. They believe you have not lived until you’ve had your heart broken. Until you’ve sang your song, loud and proud, even if it’s out of key. And you are forgiven of even the most heinous of acts, as long as it was done in the name of “love.”

    This is the city that now our country has decided to forget. Its “15 minutes” has passed.

    There are people still dying from diseases brought on by polluted water and air. People living in housing that do not have running water or electricity. People who have roots to this town going back since the land was originally settled. And every single one of them is being let down… forgotten… This town REFUSES to give up even though our country has given up on them.

    I have even heard people remark to me, not realizing that I’m a PROUD Cajun/Creole woman, “Come on, they live in a Hurricane Zone…” My response. Name ONE place. ONE place that is free from natural disaster. Free from earthquake, tornado, tsunami, violent storms, flood or sinkhole. You find me that perfect place; I will buy land now.

    I have cut bean poles, plowed farm fields, tended the graves in the family cemetery, drank moonshine, skinny dipped in the creeks, hunted and fished down the Red River, ran barefoot through the green green grass of the family homes scented with gardenias and magnolias alike listening to the vines creep their way up around the house like a protective force against any and all bad dreams. What scares me most? Those memories are just that memories to people who’ve lived their whole lives to a place that they are still being denied.

    I hear “dumb rednecks” “hicks” “hillbillies” “poor farmers.” It breaks my heart that so many people are truly uneducated on our country. These people supply the foundation for our countries musical roots. Influence our arts. These are people who help protect endangered wildlife and precious wetlands. These are farmers who supply good chunks of our countries soybean and rice growth. Louisiana is more than Mardi Gras. It’s more than some “idiot” character from “The Waterboy” living in a bayou moving along on a pirogue catching gators, frogs and opossums to eat. These people are just as important to our country as those who perished tragically and painfully in the World Trade Center. The only difference is the people in Louisiana who died, those people died by our own country’s hands. We, as a country, failed THEM and we are continuing to do so. This is more than just even New Orleans, think about what Rita even did to my beloved beaches of Cameron.

    I grew up in Tampa, FL. I lived during 100’s of hurricanes and floods in the lightning capitol of the US. I lived for a couple years in Louisiana. In hot humid hurricane weather, and icy miserable freezing brown rain. My family are Paul’s, Doyle’s, Willette/Ouilette/Willett’s all alike. And I don’t even think I even have time to break down into the smaller branches. I just know that we cannot sit and let a city just… die. Not even from just loss of blood, but in the putrid stench as the limb rots away because we failed as a nation to help people.

    There are many places, people, organizations that are helping. You are not too late to contribute. To be a part of a solution. Not the ignorant blind eye refusing to acknowledge the STILL ongoing problem.

    So many people were displaced, mentally, as well as physically. There are so many of New Orleans’ children who are forever gone and will never make it back into her arms.

    So here are some interesting ways you can help out:

    Habitat for Humanity – New Orleans
    http://www.habitat-nola.org/

    Musicians Village
    http://www.nolamusiciansvillage.org/

    New Orleans Musicians Relief Fund
    http://www.*******.com/nomrf
    http://nomrf.org

    Black Victory Clothing (donates money for every clothing purchase to Habitat for Humanity and Musicians Village for those who are broke and need bitching clothes, but yet want to contribute)
    http://www.*******.com/blackvictory
    http://blackvictory.com

    These are the memories that I pull close around me when I tuck myself in late at night under my mother’s handmade quilt. The quilt that my Great Aunt Bertie taught her how to sew. My Great Aunt Bertie who plowed her farm with a steel plow and a donkey that I cut bean poles with. My Great Granny Lena who had the treasure trove of hidden goodies in her closet. My PaPa TJ who would sit on his back porch with his mandolin and sing beautiful Cajun music to his grandchildren. My cousins playing touch football and trying to help us sneak off chocolate cake from the dessert table during the family reunions which started at the family house with watermelon and devilled eggs and ended with us all in the droves walking the mile down the gravel road to go and tend our ancestors’ graves in the family cemetery. The story telling. The folk lore. The legends. The blood, sweat, tears… The heart, soul and backs broken in the effort to help create Louisiana.

    This is MY family. Let me put MY face on it so that it may hit home.

  2. #2

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    Quote Originally Posted by Satiate
    I wrote this in my Live Journal today... and I wanted to share... I don't expect you all to get it... But well, even if one of you does... I will feel like I did this for the right reasons...

    Today…

    It is a day of remembrance. It is a day where lover’s lost hope. Where fathers lost wives. Grandparents lost homes. Children lost mothers. This marks an awful day in our American history that to this day is still swept under the rug.

    New Orleans.

    She’s the bastard child. The pagan goddess. The get-a-way plan. The dastardly vacation. It’s the marker of the soul of which really represents everything of the American spirit. Where just miles in any direction can take you to the ocean, the river, the swamp, the gravel roads, the soybean fields, and the farms… You name it. They can kill it, grill it and you will eat it smiling. It’s a city built on hoodoo legends, delta blues deaths, haunted houses full of displaced spirits, swilling spirits, loving rogues, lusty pirates, crafty traders, jazz band death marching parades, broken on the backs of the unfortunate, whispered in the empty halls of the houses of the rising sun, the bedspring kiss of a humid affair of the heart.

    They have their own language. Their own music. Their own spirit. Their own heart. They believe you have not lived until you’ve had your heart broken. Until you’ve sang your song, loud and proud, even if it’s out of key. And you are forgiven of even the most heinous of acts, as long as it was done in the name of “love.”

    This is the city that now our country has decided to forget. Its “15 minutes” has passed.

    There are people still dying from diseases brought on by polluted water and air. People living in housing that do not have running water or electricity. People who have roots to this town going back since the land was originally settled. And every single one of them is being let down… forgotten… This town REFUSES to give up even though our country has given up on them.

    I have even heard people remark to me, not realizing that I’m a PROUD Cajun/Creole woman, “Come on, they live in a Hurricane Zone…” My response. Name ONE place. ONE place that is free from natural disaster. Free from earthquake, tornado, tsunami, violent storms, flood or sinkhole. You find me that perfect place; I will buy land now.

    I have cut bean poles, plowed farm fields, tended the graves in the family cemetery, drank moonshine, skinny dipped in the creeks, hunted and fished down the Red River, ran barefoot through the green green grass of the family homes scented with gardenias and magnolias alike listening to the vines creep their way up around the house like a protective force against any and all bad dreams. What scares me most? Those memories are just that memories to people who’ve lived their whole lives to a place that they are still being denied.

    I hear “dumb rednecks” “hicks” “hillbillies” “poor farmers.” It breaks my heart that so many people are truly uneducated on our country. These people supply the foundation for our countries musical roots. Influence our arts. These are people who help protect endangered wildlife and precious wetlands. These are farmers who supply good chunks of our countries soybean and rice growth. Louisiana is more than Mardi Gras. It’s more than some “idiot” character from “The Waterboy” living in a bayou moving along on a pirogue catching gators, frogs and opossums to eat. These people are just as important to our country as those who perished tragically and painfully in the World Trade Center. The only difference is the people in Louisiana who died, those people died by our own country’s hands. We, as a country, failed THEM and we are continuing to do so. This is more than just even New Orleans, think about what Rita even did to my beloved beaches of Cameron.

    I grew up in Tampa, FL. I lived during 100’s of hurricanes and floods in the lightning capitol of the US. I lived for a couple years in Louisiana. In hot humid hurricane weather, and icy miserable freezing brown rain. My family are Paul’s, Doyle’s, Willette/Ouilette/Willett’s all alike. And I don’t even think I even have time to break down into the smaller branches. I just know that we cannot sit and let a city just… die. Not even from just loss of blood, but in the putrid stench as the limb rots away because we failed as a nation to help people.

    There are many places, people, organizations that are helping. You are not too late to contribute. To be a part of a solution. Not the ignorant blind eye refusing to acknowledge the STILL ongoing problem.

    So many people were displaced, mentally, as well as physically. There are so many of New Orleans’ children who are forever gone and will never make it back into her arms.

    So here are some interesting ways you can help out:

    Habitat for Humanity – New Orleans
    http://www.habitat-nola.org/

    Musicians Village
    http://www.nolamusiciansvillage.org/

    New Orleans Musicians Relief Fund
    http://www.*******.com/nomrf
    http://nomrf.org

    Black Victory Clothing (donates money for every clothing purchase to Habitat for Humanity and Musicians Village for those who are broke and need bitching clothes, but yet want to contribute)
    http://www.*******.com/blackvictory
    http://blackvictory.com

    These are the memories that I pull close around me when I tuck myself in late at night under my mother’s handmade quilt. The quilt that my Great Aunt Bertie taught her how to sew. My Great Aunt Bertie who plowed her farm with a steel plow and a donkey that I cut bean poles with. My Great Granny Lena who had the treasure trove of hidden goodies in her closet. My PaPa TJ who would sit on his back porch with his mandolin and sing beautiful Cajun music to his grandchildren. My cousins playing touch football and trying to help us sneak off chocolate cake from the dessert table during the family reunions which started at the family house with watermelon and devilled eggs and ended with us all in the droves walking the mile down the gravel road to go and tend our ancestors’ graves in the family cemetery. The story telling. The folk lore. The legends. The blood, sweat, tears… The heart, soul and backs broken in the effort to help create Louisiana.

    This is MY family. Let me put MY face on it so that it may hit home.
    Brava, Satiate, for an excellent essay on New Orleans, what it means to you, and the pain that you, and many other New Orleanians and Louisianans feel, at the waste, neglect and contempt that some in this big, rich, but at times excessively stupid country and its government have given y'all.

  3. #3

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    I was on my way to move there when the hurricane hit..i was driving in the middle of Lousiana when I heard on the radio that it was then under Marshal Law.

    I went to every exit hoping to find a hotel but all were sold out obviously. The rain was damn fierce and I was starting to lose hope on finding a place to sleep until I found a casino hotel that had vacancies. So I spent my birthday in 2004 playing Craps in the middle of Hurricane Katrina...drinking 24 hour alcohol.

    I went back the year later and its not the same aura that it used to be when i first visited in 2003. *sigh* I dont think it ever will be.

    But hey..free alcohol.

  4. #4
    One Eyed Cat's Avatar Senior Member
    Join Date
    Oct 2004
    Location
    Subterranea
    Posts
    5,612

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    I left a message with a friend of mine. He travels and takes a lot of photos. It isn't just that the government isn't helping, the government is shutting folks out from even having the chance to help themselves.

    I asked him for the story of the "Old Man in New Orleans". It's about a guy who simply wanted to go home. My friend is on tour, but I'm hoping he'll log on. It's really fucking pathetic what has happened since Katrina. I'll send some cash. All I can really send is having grown up with an understanding of what it is to lose your home. "You" never give up even if it takes 100 years. That it happens in this country, on our watch, under our noses is simply a shame. Let's not have a grandson go back to some fucking memorial, give them their homes back and let em bury the dead.

    JT

  5. #5
    Morning Glory's Avatar Apathetic Voter
    Join Date
    Sep 2004
    Location
    Campbell's (or is it Warhol's?) Primordial Soup
    Posts
    5,643

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    well first off that was beautiful and I think there are a lot of people that forgot or maybe even never knew what "home town" really means.

    That being said, I don't think that the nation can help. In fact, it's probably better that they don't. it's the screwed up government that caused this mess in the first place by always undercutting the bottom line and never calculating human cost. the people that live there are the one's that make it what it is. another word that is getting lost is "community". I know there are a lot of people that haven't fogotten it and they are the real heart and soul of every place. New Orleans is going to take care of itself, it always has. It's not going to be easy, but I think that everyone there knows it and that they will make it work out of neccesity.

    I don't know, I kinda wish that there would be a disaster everyday, that seems to be the only way that people come together and work together and act like people should and can forget the stupid pointless bullshit and noise that takes up so much of our time. yeah, some folks seriously dropped the fucking ball here and we should hold them to it and not forget that they weren't there doing their job when they were supposed to. But I know a lot of ordinary people that cared and helped out, and that gives me hope.

  6. #6
    Tinman's Avatar Senior Member
    Join Date
    Aug 2007
    Location
    York, England
    Posts
    289

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    I never came from anywhere im a forces Kid, born on the move, never stay anywere long, no sense of "Home", but if i coulda had a home the place u described sounded a special place, best thing about special is it lives on in ur heart forever, the world changes, so do the people that live in it, but the memory is golden. I continue to be shocked at americas slow response and lack of any real plan, its almost like someone at the top decided that New Orleans would never be the same so we just wont rebuild, but just forgot to tell the rest of the world, n simply brushed it under the carpet and hoped america would be to busy to notice, alot of people say that when katrina hit it robbed us of a truely special place and after listern to you id agree whole heartedly. I only hope morning glory is right and that u rebuild, and that New Orleans still retains even a small amount of her former self, Over hear in GB we see our share of bad weather but not even close to what the US has to endure, i hope that america doesnt remain blind and deaf to the people of New Orleans,or any of its own people, and the recent wrongs are set right x

  7. #7

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    Quote Originally Posted by Tinman
    I never came from anywhere im a forces Kid, born on the move, never stay anywere long, no sense of "Home", but if i coulda had a home the place u described sounded a special place, best thing about special is it lives on in ur heart forever, the world changes, so do the people that live in it, but the memory is golden. I continue to be shocked at americas slow response and lack of any real plan, its almost like someone at the top decided that New Orleans would never be the same so we just wont rebuild, but just forgot to tell the rest of the world, n simply brushed it under the carpet and hoped america would be to busy to notice, alot of people say that when katrina hit it robbed us of a truely special place and after listern to you id agree whole heartedly. I only hope morning glory is right and that u rebuild, and that New Orleans still retains even a small amount of her former self, Over hear in GB we see our share of bad weather but not even close to what the US has to endure, i hope that america doesnt remain blind and deaf to the people of New Orleans,or any of its own people, and the recent wrongs are set right x
    Nicely put, Tinman!!!

  8. #8
    Tinman's Avatar Senior Member
    Join Date
    Aug 2007
    Location
    York, England
    Posts
    289

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    Say it like it is Don, but always gud to hear off ya!

  9. #9

    Default Re: Because sometimes, things are just a little bit bigger than you and me...

    Quote Originally Posted by Tinman
    Say it like it is Don, but always gud to hear off ya!
    Likewise, Cap'n.

+ Reply to Thread

Similar Threads

  1. Replies: 8
    Last Post: 05-25-2008, 03:50 PM
  2. Will you be a bigger star this year?
    By The Newswire in forum Blue Blood Boards
    Replies: 0
    Last Post: 01-02-2008, 02:31 AM
  3. Bigger or Smaller?
    By Nightingale in forum Blue Blood Boards
    Replies: 10
    Last Post: 11-09-2004, 01:19 AM
  4. Can metallica's ego's get any bigger???
    By Dead_Fukin_Last in forum Blue Blood Boards
    Replies: 35
    Last Post: 08-18-2004, 12:38 PM
  5. Mine Is Bigger Than Yours
    By Amelia G in forum Blue Blood Boards
    Replies: 9
    Last Post: 07-03-2004, 11:52 AM

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
Blue Blood
Trappings | Personalities | Galleries | Entertainment | Art | Books | Music | Popcorn | Sex | Happenings | Oddities | Trade/Business | Manifesto | Media | Community
Blue Blood | Contact Us | Advertise | Submissions | About Blue Blood | Links | $Webmasters$
Interested in being a Blue Blood model, writer, illustrator, or photographer? Get in touch