We all know about the double food stamps for too many. And I know from experience what it’s like to have to hit the road with only a finite number of dollars and find those dollars quickly gone due to circumstances beyond control. And then to finally come back to town and discover your job no longer exists and to try to cobble together what you can to pay some bills and reassemble things as much as you can. You gotta be resourceful, venture into new personal territory and learn a lot of new rules in a big damn hurry. And if the state/federal folks can help, it’s appreciated. Thousands of folks are doing that very thing right now in Louisiana and especially in Texas. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but you do what you gotta do. And you gotta claim it on your tax return too.

….but in the past couple of weeks, I’ve talked to at least a dozen 20-somethings who lost virtually nothing in the Gustav/Ike thing and are racking up bigtime on the dole. The food stamp giveaway that’s been going on rivals the $2K handouts post-Katrina — if not in dollars then certainly in the bogus claims being made to food stamp offices around the entire region. I talked to one kid today who readily admitted losing only like $100 in frozen pizza and other schlock when he bailed for a week of partying — but he qualified for, oh, $600 in food stamps when he came back to town. I’ve talked to way too many others who never left or lost income — but they qualify for at least the basic $160 or whatever even if they’d lost nothing. They’ve been standing in line and, for the most part, telling a good version of the truth. And they get food stamps just because they can. And that seems to be their reason for doing it. Just because they can.

It’s a “screw them before they screw you” mentality and it’s wrong.

…said the dinosaur.

They are in the restaurants on Magazine St. It is the staff. They are asleep. Zzzzzzzzzz. Right there in front of you. The ones trying to hold their heads up while dozing in front of TVs showing Divorce Court and other video pablum until there is an Actual Customer.

This isn’t to criticize my own staff, which is excellent and professional, or anyone else’s. But the retail activity on Magazine St. over the past week has been, um — what’s the word? Lethargic? Glacial? I think it’s a case of Hurricane Hangover — where most folks blew their financial wads in evacuation and won’t get back in balance until the first of the month or so. Wall Street’s problems don’t help this week either. At any rate, most places (including the Saints yesterday, apparently) are watching their employees nod off left and right. I think the cooler weather will help everything.

I’m getting those political phone calls these days — the ones where you either get a pre-recorded message from some politico or (on a more personal note) a real, live person wanting to outline their candidate’s total supremacy. I used to have a two-word response to these kinds of calls, but now I just hang up. I used to say, “well, if they call me, they’re guaranteed not to get my vote.” But pretty much everyone seems to be doing it these days.

Has anyone noticed how the “Jefferson For Congress” signs seem to be hanging in the same place(s) as the “Cannizzaro (sp) For DA” signs? It’s happening too often around my Irish Channel neighborhood to be mere coincidence. If I was running for DA, I’m not sure I’d want my name next to that of a federally indicted public official.

I’m just sayin’

Anyway, thanks to our friend Rae for taking me to the Saints game yesterday. Focusing on football was a badly needed break from focusing on food supplies and service and all the other things that have absorbed attention for the past week. Frankly, I’d have gone if it was McNeese vs. Louisiana/Monroe — anything to take a break and just be diverted for awhile.

Looks like this Ike thing is gonna blow into Texas. Sucks to be them, I know, but, for now, it’s certainly a relief here. I don’t want to wish ill on anyone, but things here need to get recentered on the day-to-day. It won’t be long before the weather moderates a bit and people start coming out of their summer funk and into a more sociable fall attitude. It will help us all to look forward to things like Halloween and the holidays — if even in the mode of store decorations. New Orleans shines best in the fall and spring — and the winters are pretty damn neat too.

A couple of notes — yesterday at the Superdome the scoreboard’s “KissCam” focused on the usual collection of teens, middle-agers and elderly. But one shot showed a couple of hot women kissing each other. They held it too. The crowd went wild. We also got a chance to boo Hurricane Ike’s progress.

Gustav knocked over our big hibiscus out front. It’s still alive, however, and efforts to re-establish its domain are already underway. It was also good to see the school kids out and waiting for their buses early this morning. And, God bless the RTA, the streetcars are already running again on St. Charles.

As mentioned in an earlier post, the national chains are having a hard time coming back after the minor bump that Gustav created in our daily back-and-forth. The Wal-Mart on Tchoup is open, but with limited hours. La Madeleine at the St. Charles turn hasn’t yet re-opened. There are many other examples, while the local/regional folks seem to be pretty much back to business as usual here in Orleans Parish. Please remember this when you’re shopping. You might pay a few cents more per item, but at least you know they’re there — and will be the next time as long as you continue to support them.

“…High black water’s like the devil’s daughter
She’s hard and she’s cold, and she’s mean
But we’ve finally taught her that it takes a lot of water
To wash away New Orleans…”
–Leon Everette

That said, continued prayers tonight for folks in Terrebonne, Ascension and other parishes much more tartly affected. There’s some serious hard times for a lot of people down in Da Swamp this evening, and anything that can be done is appreciated.

Not me, that’s for sure. I’m not advocating staying for anyone but me. I know what I have to deal with and, being a business owner and stuff, it works for me. ‘Nuff said by this irresponsible and incessant questioner of the Status Quo.

Anyway, I apologize for some of my words in the previous post. I don’t mean to characterize those who evacuated as being me-firsters. We have plenty of friends who felt they had to go and they’ve come back and they’re wonderful and they’ve faced their own hardships and, believe me, I know how much it sucks to be on the road and watching everything from hundreds of miles away. I was overgeneralizing and was talking about those who are me-firsters anyway. The last few days have been very, very good for us and, despite the fatigue, Life Itsowndeamnself is excellent. Thank you — especially to Jack, Rae, Dangerblond and an entire long list of others.

I got through with work this evening and decided to take time to walk down to the Garden District Pub and have a sazerac. I’d have honestly like to fire up a cigar, but I figured that (though legal) it would have been a smelly and selfish act. So I’ll save the cigar for another time. But there were some folks a few barstools down who were talking about things they want to do and things they haven’t done and why they “can’t” do them (including staying here during a hurricane. Might get hurt. Might have to go without power for an extended period. Might have to learn to survive without the Day Job, etc.).

I think most of us know what a Whiffle Ball is. It’s a plastic ball with holes in it that’s the size of a baseball and it comes with a yellow plastic bat and the idea is to take this ball and bat out into the yard and play “baseball,” but the holes in the ball give it all kinds of crazy action when you throw it and, if you hit the ball with the plastic bat, it’s hard to catch and, basically, it boils down to lots of activity and potentially lots of fun for something that’s not going to hurt anyone because the ball never has any speed or weight. I mean, it’s a freaking WHIFFLE BALL, fergodsakes.

I got to thinking about these folks down the bar and how sad it must be to live a Whiffle Life. Author P.J. O’Rourke mentions it in one of his books. It’s a life with no hard floors and no sharp corners and no real baseball that can bounce up unexpectedly to hit you between the eyes — or even if it does it doesn’t hurt. There’s no risk, no failure and no chance of, well, Real Success.

I know “success” is a highly subjective term. But, at least to me, it has to do with pushing one’s limits and raising the sail and putting yourself in unfamiliar waters where you’re not comfortable and you can’t predict what’s next. The success comes not in conquering (though that’s great) but in the Being There. You’re on the floor of the arena and not just a spectator. It’s easy to boo the participants when you pay your money and sit in your seat and expect to be entertained or provided for or otherwise satiated in some capacity.

I think we’re a city, a state and a nation with too many spectators.

We took Alex home to Mid-City this evening. This was an area that was heavily flooded by Katrina (and where we used to live), but this evening all (or most) of the lights appear on and things are getting back to normal. That’s great, since the area has come such a long way since Katrina and was one of the big question marks for Gustav. We truly do love Mid-City.

I cried briefly this morning. I’m not usually prone to that but….
Those of you who know the restaurant know that our biggest seller is our redfish sammich. One of the reasons for this is that it’s made with ciabatta bread we get from La Boulangerie up Magazine St. This bakery is owned by a Frenchman named Dominique (we met his parents during a catering gig a few months back) and we’ve been consistent customers nearly since we opened. Dominique closed his shop before the storm, posting a sign in the window, and I just assumed he wouldn’t be back until this weekend or so. We had plenty of fish in-house and we’ve just been serving it on regular hamburger buns or on whatever cheapass French bread we could find. I called La Boulangerie Tuesday and left a message for Dominique to call whenever they got up and running again. This morning, Dominique appears about 9:30ish at the restaurant with 15 loaves of this wonderful ciabatta. Needless to say, I was beyond touched and, I guess, I could have kissed him (him being all Gallic and all). But suffice to say I ordered MORE for pickup tomorrow. Sweet.

This is why I do as much business locally as I can. Dominique goes out of his way to help us without being asked. Our crawfish guy (David from Lafitte) shows up religiously — no matter how little I happen to buy from him. The wonderful folks at Rouses have pushed to re-open and are pretty well stocked. Our main supplier (F. Christiana) has come back on line and already made a major delivery. The BreauxMart on Magazine is blowing and going. Where is Wal-Mart? Where is Sam’s? They’re still closed — as are most of the big national chain joints. Bite me.

Speaking of bite me — it’s been pretty easy to tell who stayed during the storm and who evacuated. Those who stayed have been patient and shown a good sense of humor as we’ve come back up to speed this week. They’re just glad to have someplace to go that has power and a/c and is serving a semblance of a normal menu. A lot of them don’t have power at home yet, so they’re pretty much just happy to show up. But a lot of those who bugged out are just coming back — and they expect (they sometimes DEMAND) that things be just like they were a week ago, before the storm kinda threw everything out of whack for awhile.

I threw one of them out of the restaurant yesterday. We were crazy busy for breakfast and, for the most part, folks were understanding that we were short of employees and inventory. We were the first place on Magazine to re-open after Gustav passed and we remain one of the very few with any breakfast at all. It indeed took a long time to fill this woman’s (to-go) order. The to-go folks are automatically bumped to the back when we have a house full of sit-down customers. But this woman pissed and moaned and bitched and griped and got on everyone’s nerves until she finally got her order and TBK comped it for taking so long. She continued to bitch about the service and I went out and apoligized and she kept griping so I finally told her that if she wasn’t happy she could go to the freaking McDonald’s on St. Charles (which hasn’t reopened yet). She continued bitching and I told her just get out. Get out of my place and go tell her friends who are just like her that I don’t want them in my restaurant and I don’t want her in my place again. Kristen also yelled something as she was slinking away. It was great. The customer is always right until they’re an asshole. Then they’re just an asshole.

I think we’re each put on earth to do one of three things: 1) to make someone smile, 2) to make someone think or 3) to help someone who needs help. If we’re lucky, we can accomplish all three. I’ve been extremely fortunate in the past week to see all those traits in a lot of wonderful people. It’s just a shame some folks don’t get it — and, frankly, I don’t want them in my place of business no matter how green their money is.

I’m going to the Saints game Sunday! Rae was nice enough to invite me and we should be staffed up enough for me to take a few hours off.

I can’t say enough about TBK and Stu and Kristen and all their work this week. We’re truly a family operation. Milo and Alex and Melanie and Matt are right in there with us and Jessica’s early return was a tremendous boost. We should be about back to full staff by Sunday.

Sleep now. There’s a lot to wake up for tomorrow.

All of us at the shop kinda reached critical mass today. The shortage of manpower and inventory had us all seriously on edge. But after we closed and cleaned up, I was able to go home and get a nap for an hour or so and it was a big help. We’ve all gotten about a half-day off to recharge.

I was able to go over to the Westbank today and get some meat and other stuff from out main supplier (F. Christiana) in Marrero. But they’re a generator-powered island in an ocean of No Electricity. I drove from the CCC to Marrero, from the river to Lapalco and down Manhattan and up de Gaulle and I tell ya — there was NO power. That’s a big area, and no one can say when they’ll get the juice back. The poor bastids are being told they can’t even take a shower or a dump in their own dark house because of massive sewage problems linked to the lack of power.

On the other hand, there are those of us in New Orleans. While power remains a problem in many areas, we still have water. And more places are opening up, so literally each hour brings another place to go, another hangout recovered and, for far too many, another place to see and be seen. We’ve got this set of hipster types who talk about their tough 12 or 24 hours without electricity. Or those who don’t have power at their house but are still able to go to a lighted place to drink heavy and complain about the limited menus or bitch that their cable service isn’t operating. I mean, they say it could be DAYS before Whole Foods opens! I couldn’t get ANYONE to answer at Cox Cable!

Bullshit. Don’t tell me your times are tough when you’re standing in line to buy a fifth of Jim Beam and a 12-pack of Bud and a giant bag of Cheetos to take home to your house that’s gonna be in the dark for another day or so. I’m not listening to your sob story while you sit at an outside table at Byblos or ogle sorority chicks at The Bulldog.

Lemme tell ya — we got off nice and freaking easy here in New Orleans. I don’t want to hear some whelp griping when there are entire families stuck out on the road and not knowing when they can return. We have friends who are back in their house in Ascension Parish but are being told it will be weeks before they get electricity. Down in Terrebonne, there is no power, water or sewage as far as the eye can see from a tall cypress tree — and won’t be in the forseeable future.

That’s tough times –and this time there’s no media circus following you and no Al Sharpton or some other self-appointed Messiah banging a drum to bring help. You just gotta rely on yourself, your family and friends, suck it up and push ahead when and how you can.

Things get better — they really do.

Terrebonne Parish was devastated by Hurricane Gustav. The sheriff says there is no power, no sewage, no water supply, no gasoline, no nothing — much like or in many ways worse than New Orleans afte Katrina. Houma is not a spot in the road — it’s home to thousands who are either stuck there or who are on the road and being told they won’t be allowed back in for at least another ten days or so. Anyone attempting to return will be stopped and turned around. The place simply cannot support what few have remained, much less anyone who tries to come back.

Pray for these wonderful people and their parish. More than that, do what you can to help them. Please.

We‘re experiencing what I call The Hurricane Dichotomy. It’s that weird existence following a storm in which one works in a reasonably normal environment with a/c, power, lights and all the conveniences of Modern Living, but then returns each evening to the Dark Ages, in which everything is dark and much more like things were 200 or so years ago. When it got dark outside, it was simply dark — unless someone pulled out a lantern or torch or some other thing that made light. This also meant it was cold in the winter or, in our case now, hot and humid in the summer (until it gets hot and humid in the fall, about three weeks from now).

Much of the city remains without power again tonight, and it’s a rather checkerboarded pattern We’ve set up the generator, which is making its lawnmower noise out back, and run a lot of extension cords throughout the house. This creates a complicated web of things to trip over in the middle of the night, so it’s good practice to empty yourself completely before going to bed. We’ve opted not to hook up power-sucking items like the fridge (which we emptied of potential olfactory hazards before the storm) and air conditioning, It’s basically some lights and a few fans and space left over to charge phones, etc. We’ve also powered the router and all, but there is no signal coming into the modem so we’re kinda SOL for going online at the house. Wireless signals are too far away (at least five blocks or so), so we’re out of communication at night except for any cell phones (half of which aren’t working in New Orleans for now)

The generator sets up a pretty good white noise, once you get used to it. Perhaps there could be a market in hurricane-prone areas for such background sounds, similar to those with the sound of gently breaking waves or the other stuff you can find on relaxation CDs. Down here, the rockabye noises would include generators, popping nail guns on re-roof jobs, Coast Guard helicopters overhead, NOPD sirens, ship horns on the river, streetcar bells and bums asking you for a cigarette. Ah. sweet home New Orleans. Zzzzzzzzzz.

We actually went through this during Tropical Storm Cindy, that thing that hit here about a month before Katrina. TBK and I were able to nest up in a generator-powered room with an a/c unit and we could also run the TV and the PC and some lights and all kinds of things. But back then we were only two. Now we are five in the house, with Milo upstairs and Kristen and Matt downstairs, so things are stretched out a little more.

Last time, all this lasted about a week. This time, it appears Baton Rouge (which caught things worse than us) and New Orleans are apparently off the grid and on our own little Electrical Island. There are some 850,000 of us sitting around in the dark tonight around Louisiana.

I think that’s a good thing from time to time. Sometimes being in the dark makes us see things a lot more clearly.

There’s no gasoline, no grocery stores, no convenience stores and only a smattering of other retail-type places open (no power). The juice is also still out at the house, but we’ll get the generator back over there tonight. None of us slept well last night because it was dead still, hot and sticky. It’ll be a big help to get a few fans going this evening.

Authorities are telling evacuees to wait another couple of days before coming back, but I don’t think they’re exactly setting up many roadblocks. It’s not like we’re trying to make the house look nice after a big party. Except for downed limbs and a lack of power, it’s impossible to tell in many areas that we had any kinda of storm — ’cause it was trashed since way before even Katrina.

…so we’ve essentially got another day or so of Labor Day.

I can’t say enough about the NOPD and their officers, as well as the National Guard. They’re been professional but flexible throughout this entire event. And, of course, we’ve managed to have a great time here at the restaurant. Alex and Milo have more than carried their share while being bone-tired, Kristen and Matt have been doing above and beyond to make things work and Stu and Melanie have been juggling more objects than they should. It has truly been a group effort and we’ve managed to have fun doing it. We all wanted to take a day off today, but once we saw how many peole needed feeling, everyone went back to it.

Thanks to all of you.

Sorry about the gap in writing, but we lost power at the shop at 6am. It was raining sideways and winds continued to increase. We were able to catch a little TV by hooking it up to the generator, but Internet service was inoperable and, frankly, we were too busy entertaining ourselves by fending off derelicts (“gotny beer?” “No. We’re sold out (true).”) Since the restaurant faces north, the building blocked the wind and the balcony kept out most of the rain. This left us fairly dry on the sidewalk to hang out, smoke, swap stories and watch the wind rip signs and various pieces of roofing from nearby buildings. Stu was able to corral a wayward Latter & Blum sign and use it as a skateboard sail to cruise around the block in the rain.

I figured we’d just take what food we could and sell it on the sidewalk once things started to calm down. But the idea proved short-lived when we sold it all in about 30 minutes (thank you hungry, storm-tossed neighborhood folks!).

….so New Orleans and its close ‘burbs were a bit oversold on this storm. Not that it was difficult to do, of course. The warnings were honest and, given the timing of them, based on very, very real concerns. And nearly everything worked this time around — from local government facilitating evacuation to the state sending in the Guard to the national folks having what was needed on the ground. Lessons learned and thank you.

While the national media oversensationalized the levee topping and too many televised reporters tried to make a run-of-the-mill event into Katrina II, I can tell you the best story most of the nation will never see. It’s what is happening this evening to the folks in Lafitte and other small communities directly south of New Orleans and to the southwest. Some are heavily flooded for the second time in three years — with many just-rebuilt lives, homes and businesses again in tatters. The problem is they are too few in number for most folks to care. And they’re still assessing damage in Lafourche and Terrebonne Parishes. God bless those folks tonight, as well as others still facing what’s left of this weather system. Those of us who stayed in New Orleans know how creeply lucky we are this time around.

…so our city this evening has lots downed branches and trees, plenty of missing signs and a lot of places remain without power. It’ll likely be the end of the week before things get completely back to normal (open banks, working gas pumps, neighbors returning, RESUPPLYING RESTAURANTS). But at least this one is over (here).

…and I can keep that appointment Wednesday.