Thursday, September 29, 2005

Help, Straighten Me Out

















“. . . six in 10 blacks interviewed said the federal government was slow in rescuing those stranded in New Orleans after Katrina because many of the people in the Louisiana city were black. But only about one in eight white respondents shared that view.

The numbers were similar on whether the rescues were slower because the victims were poor, with 63 percent of blacks blaming poverty and 21 percent of whites doing so.”


-Reporting the results of a gallup poll taken September 8-11, 2005. CNN.com, Tuesday, September 13, 2005


Have you ever been down in the ghetto?
Have you ever felt that cold wind blow?
If you don’t know what I mean
Won’t you stand up and scream
‘Cause there’s things goin’ on that you don’t know

-Lynyrd Skynyrd, Things Goin’ On


“And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this, this is working very well for them.”

-Barbara Bush, speaking about Katrina evacuees living in the Houston Astrodome.
Marketplace, September 5, 2005


We’ve all seen the man at the liquor store, beggin’ for your change
The hair on his face is dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange
He asked the man for what he could spare with shame in his eyes
“Get a job, you fuckin’ slob,” was all he replied
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
‘Cause then you really might know what it’s like to sing the blues

-Everlast, What It’s Like


“For the poor shall never cease out of the land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, in thy land.”

- Deuteronomy 15:11, King James Version



In this dirty old part of the city
where the sun refuse to shine
People tell me there ain't no use in trying

Now, my girl, you're so young and pretty
And one thing I know is true,
You'll be dead before your time is due (I know)

Watch my daddy in bed and dying
Watch his hair been turning grey
He's been working and slaving his life away (Oh yes I know)
He's been working so hard

I've been working too, baby (every night and day)

We've gotta get out of this place
if it's the last thing we ever do
We've gotta get out of this place
Girl, there's a better life for me and you

-The Animals, We’ve Gotta Get Out of This Place


Reporter: “Can I ask you why you don’t want to stay?”

Evacuee: “Why I’m not staying? ‘Cause look how far we is out here. Look at, look at, just look around you, and you’ll see, yourself. Ain’t no good environment, Mexicans and all them kind of people around here.”

Reporter, to radio audience: “It’s hard to miss the fact that some of the same people who were complaining the loudest about discrimination . . . were the quickest to say they didn’t want to live around ‘a bunch of Mexicans.’”

- Conversation between a reporter and a black Katrina evacuee regarding apartments offered as free housing in Houston. This American Life, September 16, 2005


Ain't no different
Than in South Africa
Over here they'll go after ya to steal your soul
Like over there they stole our gold
Yo they say the Black don't know how to act
'Cause we're waitin' for the big payback
But we know it'll never come
That's why I say come and get some
Why when the Black move in, Jack move out
Come to stay Jack moves away
Ain't we all people?
How the hell can a color be no good for a neighborhood
Help, straighten me out

-Public Enemy, Who Stole the Soul?



Whether or not you view the delay in rescue efforts after Katrina as racist, you may have been appalled by the instances of individual racism that were caught on video or audiotape being committed by evacuees, rescuers and others in the past weeks.

I'm not wealthy; on the contrary, it wouldn't take much of a crisis to put me on the street, yet it took an absurdly lengthy amount of time for me to understand that most of the people who didn't evacuate prior to Katrina weren't there by choice, but by financial circumstance.

It was only several weeks after the storm that I discovered that those stranded in the aftermath were actually prevented, at gunpoint, from leaving a city which had no water, food, shelter or clothing, by National Guardsmen, who were protecting property just outside of New Orleans. Property over innocent American lives.

I don't even know how to begin to solve these huge problems.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Nouvelle Cuisine























My energy spent on our quest
Made me hungry and left me depressed
Eating way too much food
Made my tummy protrude
I’d not joined to gain weight and be stressed

My answer? Cut way back on fodder
Get the fat off and drink lots of water
I lost nearly a stone
But my strength, it had flown
At the half, I’d be lamb to a slaughter

So I’m trying out nouvelle cuisine
Eaten all through the day – meals, between-
I’ve gained not an ounce
And my step – it has bounce
This plan feeds the run and leaves me lean

I’ve been constantly breaking my fast, so
I’ve not any cravings, at last! “Oh,”
“If only I’d known,”
“I might have,” I groan
“Avoided my twelve pound fiasco.”

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

October 23rd























A portent of Fall, the black crow stirs
To remind us all - approacheth October!
His hoarse, avian call brings about chills
The temperate drink and drunks get sober

Lately, I awaken in bed at night
Unable to move, contracted with fright
I can’t release my poor chest for a breath
My sheets are bunched up and fist-twisted tight

What torments me so with its taunting?
It has hold of me, won’t stop its haunting-
An insistent task I cannot forget
The duration of which is quite daunting

It chases me all through my dreams
With horns and a pitchfork, extreme
I toss and I force myself to awake
With a gasp, I choke back my . . .

Well, you know.




Monday, September 26, 2005

Weak












Over two grueling months, I lost the notorious 12 pounds I had gained by overeating from April through July.

Now I am weak. So weak.

I have less than a month to regain six of the nine miles I lost during my restricted diet, plus add four and one-tenth.

I want to do this without a repeat of my previous weight gain.

Give me your prayers.

Take me there.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Slouching















Months ago, when I began this journey, it was with reluctance, trepidation, even fear. The bright image I held in my mind, however, was N'Orleans, reclining on the coast like a drunken woman, her skin moistened with sweat, her laughter roughened by smoke and late nights, calling to me in a smiling, musky voice, "C'mon, girl. Do this thing you gotta do and then we can do a little boogie together."

As I have dragged myself, slouching toward N'Orleans, I never dreamed that the journey I had begun was so great that it would not, could not, reach a successful climax simply by my puny effort. Now, in the midst of my miniscule labor, I see the great city herself, slouching toward me.

C'mon, girl. Do this thing you gotta do. And then we can boogie.