You're still here! Hallelujah! This morning I watched the sunrise over the trees of City Park, on my deep southern porch perched on 8 foot stilts. I admired the grey velvet Louis XV settee that I scored from one of the wonderful antique dealers out on Jeff Highway. Who in their right mind pays Royal Street prices? I watched a moving video of the Saints beating the Vikings on our way to New Orleans' first Super Bowl. My friends and neighbors are getting pumped up for football. We love it because it brings us together and gives us something to talk about, share, and celebrate.
Come on in and sit a spell.
It's hard to believe that ten years have past since the storm. For the first five it was all we could talk about. It wasn't unusual to see random people burst into tears. Swapping stories with strangers, so many many stories. Trudging through the rebuilding process, a new way of life defined by the paperwork, the haggling, the bureaucracy. Here and there the efforts paying off, brick by brick, block by block. Change, the stuff of life.
Then something happened. Slowly, surely, we got sick of talking about it. The stories petered out, the obsession lifted, the changes worked into the bones of the city and what was once so shocking became just life.
Now you rarely hear about it, on the news, in social circles, in the paper. People change the subject when it comes up. The local media is doing its best to make it a conversation this week, but there aren't many takers. I suppose the national media will be airing the obligatory retrospectives, but we're not watching it.
You would think this city would throw an epic, funny, creative, warm, startling anniversary . You should have seen the creative explosion after the storm - the decorated refrigerators, the tattoos, the mardi gras costumes in 2006! But not this year. We're quiet. I've heard a couple of stories, half-heartedly told, the heart not in it for the teller or the listener. We're sad inside, but the tears aren't public.
We're not done. Everyone has not been made whole. It's not over. We have new problems. In other words life, sometimes tragic, sometimes boring, sometimes amazing.
We're New Orleans, and we're still here. Just talking about other things, ya'll.