I keep hearing more and more dissention about the enormous amount of money that�s being ear-marked to rebuild New Orleans. I�ve heard everything from �the city isn�t worth it�, to �it�ll just happen again so why not just drop the money in the river and let it wash out to sea�, to �it�ll just create rich crack heads�, to �all the money will end up in the hands of a few politicians�. Honestly, most of those same possibilities have run through my own mind in the last few weeks in one form or another. The middle class in New Orleans (at least, the Parish itself) has always been small to non-existent. The middle class live in Jefferson Parish and maybe work in Orleans Parish. This lack of a middle class seems to have created a chasm that has the combined effect of letting the rich think they can do whatever they want while making the poor think there�s no way to get out of being poor. Maybe the middle class keeps the wealthy a little more modest and gives the poor hope � like a conscience. Stark contrasts between the rich and poor, historically, are the recipe for Revolution. (Craig Giesecke implied this but I can�t speak to whether that is what he meant. Either way, he may be a sign my logic is correct.)

Something else I was told the other day with regard to the money to rebuild is: �You�d think building a ghetto would be cheaper�, which was sort of an interesting perspective, I suppose. But it does beg the question: If you�re going to spend federal tax money on rebuilding a city, what kind of city should it be when you�re done? I can�t imagine the answer is defined by what New Orleans was before the storm. Indeed, a clue to what some would like to see can be found in this statement from George II to Sugar Ray Nagin: ��a shining example for the whole world�. The ridiculous level of abstraction aside, sounds to me like ol� Georgy-boy wants New Orleans to be Disneyland with a courthouse. They could even go around the city painting things �no-see green� like they do to in Disneyland for things like water meters, utility boxes � anything they don�t want visitors to see. Only difference is, in New Orleans you�d have to paint the poor; and possibly, the ugly. Maybe just turn New Orleans into a rich, white guy, Mardi Gras Playground where people only live there a few months out of the year and the rest of the time the place is deserted. What really bothers me lately is that New Orleans is being seen as a �political opportunity�. It may have been one of the less obvious lessons of 911, but in a disaster of any significance, there is room for political gain.

So, really, I just want things more or less back the way they were. It wasn�t great, and sure it had some problems that needed to be addressed; socially and politically. But there was something special about the place (extra cookie special � not short-bus special) and I�m afraid that something special will be spackled over or otherwise bulldozed and replaced with something described with terms like �planned� and �green space�. I want the New Orleans back that I fell in love with 14 years ago this month at 18 years old all disappointed that Bourbon Street was little more than an alley. I want the New Orleans back that I�ve had impassioned kisses in; that I�ve met some amazing people in; that I learned to puke while walking home from the bar without missing a step in. I want one more time of standing on St. Charles during a parade and thinking in amazement to myself that I live here.

Maybe that New Orleans is already gone; washed away by the storm. If that�s the case then I can live with that � its natural and seems fitting. What I can not tolerate is that New Orleans being brushed aside and discarded by a political agenda. My memories still live there. Some of my hopes and dreams still live there. My shadow still stands on the street at the right time of day with the shadows of so many others. I have no plans to leave New Orleans, but that doesn�t mean I�ll stay. If I can�t find that something special when I get back then I guess I�ll gather my memories and go somewhere else � and my memories can live in the New Orleans that lives in my heart.

Related posts:

1. Houses were split open, and you could see necklaces hanging from branches of trees.*
2. A question for the crusty punks that hang out in the Quarter
3. oh kay see…(OKC)
4. Being a refugee
5. The Nation (of Islam)