Rearview Mirror

Show Them The Money!

It's hard not to watch the televised version of events unfold in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. Even Dick Cheney says that he has been glued to the TV watching the coverage of the devastation down on the Gulf Coast. Seeing images of families torn apart and survivors who escaped with nothing but the clothes they were wearing stirs up thoughts of "what can I do to help". Hopefully most Americans will pick up a pen and write a check to some charity with a presence down there.
In our area, the St. Michaels Business Association teamed up with the Junior Womens Club and sucessfully filled a tractor trailer full of goods to be driven down. Stories in our local paper about everyday people displaying various degrees of generosity are plentiful. What it really boils down to is that any effort is generous, no matter how small and everyone should give something.
And, yes, I practice what I preach. This weekend my mom and I are having a yard sale and plan  to match whatever money we make to form a donation to help the Humane Society Of The US and the ASPCA in their efforts to save and care for pets and farm animals that survived the storm. As difficult as it is to see kids who survived the storm only to struggle with the hardships of hunger, injury, and seperation from their families, I am opting to send my money to an organization that is helping those that cannot help themselves. If there was a fund specifically to help provide care for the eldery folks who have nobody to look after their needs, then I would send some there too. The kids will make out fine with parents or family and the child-centric government to ensure their welfare. "No Child Left Behind", right ? On the other hand, animals and the the eldery who have no family will need the help of strangers who care enough to go that extra mile. The HSUS and ASPCA appear to be full of just those people.

Won't you join me in making a donation to an organization whose cause you believe in?
MSNBC.com's site has a list of organizations seeking donations and other ways you can help.

Not-So Goodbye To Summer

Although I will not miss this.... (my mosquito-ravaged leg)

...I will miss summer.

The weather has been great this year but,  while I am thankful for that, the dreaded fall/winter blahs are lurking just around the corner. If anyone reading this suffers from depression especially aggravated by cold weather and lack of sunlight, then you know what I mean. Even though the weather is mild well into October here on the Shore, the smell of fall is afoot much earlier reminding me to start making plans to travel south.

Happy Labor Day and enjoy this last hurrah!

Memories of New Orleans

Back in 1986, in my other life as a student at an all-girls boarding school, I had a roommate who was from New Orleans.Generations of her family were New Orleans natives and they lived a traditional old-school well-to-do southern socialite lifestyle. I was invited to spend Mardi Gras with them over a school break and my parents somehow managed to scrape together airfare and sent me on my first plane ride alone (yipee!) to the Big Easy. I was 16, had a bullseye for trouble drawn on my forhead and my folks were sending me alone to Mardi Gras. Oh yeah!
My hosts were very gracious.The maid "stole" my suitcase and folded all my clothes into drawers in a guest room decorated like a 10-year-old girl's birthday cake. I called my mom to tell her this bizarre occurrance and she reminded me to be on my best behavior. Not a chance...at least not until I left that huge stately southern mansion on Charles Street in search of adventure .The house had it's 15 minutes of fame when Ed McMahon was filmed giving his Publishers Clearing House commercial on the front porch. It was a typical New Orleans-style mansion with older than old trees draped with moss in the front yard, a scene reminiscent of gracious living in a  genteel period in America's southern history. I can remember there being many many bedrooms, one for each of the 7 or so children, all adults at that time. The kitchen was larger than my entire farmhouse and they never cooked. In New Orleans you ate out alot, and it was Mardi Gras so life revolved around the parades, balls, and social events. I had the chance to attend a debutante ball, wearing a ball gown from the collection of my hosts, and danced with my friend's father and other mysterious men dressed in a colorful silk costumes and masks. With each dance the ladies were given gifts...a crystal heart-shaped clock...a silver heart-shaped necklace...small bottles of champagne. It was the "Crew of Athenians" ball and was on Valentines Day if I remeber correctly...oh, and I had met a guy. We had arranged for him to pick us up at the ball in his car for some fun on the town afterward. Imagine my delight when he pulled up in his multi-colored 1970's vintage Datsun to the ballroom entrance. A gloved usher opened the rusty door of the beast for my friend and I and waited until we hiked up our ballgowns, climbed in and wedged ourselves in with a milkcrated collection of albums. That was a night of many memories....my first trip on Extacy...falling down the levee and ripping the ballgown...sneaking into the Audobon Zoo...drinking free beers in a bar underneath Tulane U. The next morning fresh sugar-crusted KingCake (with a little pink baby inside), beignets, and strong coffee for breakfast, then off to the day's parades with a hangover still lingering.
I haven't been back since, although there have been many thoughts of returning. Somehow I feared that, by returning and trying to relive those weeks would tarnish the memories. Now, they are all that is left and my sentiments of a graceful, exciting, and mysterious New Orleans are even more cherished. My heart breaks for the residents that lost everything, and I can only hope that their memories of that special city will bring them comfort as they struggle to rebuild.
To quote an (misdirected) email from my friend Doug L..."Weep for New Orleans".