The last couple of days have been busy, to say the least, and I’ve left the laptop at the shop. The one we’ve had there has crapped out and we haven’t had any Internet service at the house until today. It’s useless for me to try to post from the shop, since I get all diverted and can’t focus. It’s much easier at home. Forgive me if the post is a bit all over the road, but a lot has happened in the wake of the storm.

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.

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Things are slowly returning to normal. A few more places are open today, but the lack of electric power and support services is keeping a lid on complete return to the day-to-day. We were able to stay open until about 2:30 this afternoon until we ran short of some basics, but we’re slowly bringing to larder back up to semi-normal. Tomorrow should be more or less a normal day, including the anticipated BEER DELIVERY.

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.

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Headed back to New Orleans after a long hurrication? Wondering if your power’s still out? Well, wonder no more! Entergy has created a tool that allegedly lets you know the status of service in your area–to your own house, even!

I, for one, am thrilled that Entergy has just added this 2002-era technology to its website. Talk about consistency! The service is so utterly useless that the Entergy experience you’d come to know and despise remains exactly the same. You don’t have to wait on hold for hours at a time to be frustrated by the company with the worst customer-relations in the world–now you can do it online, where the page-load time is only about half an hour, and there’s less information than ever! Trust me: after you’ve hurled your laptop across a crowded hotel room in a fit of pique, you’ll never go back to shouting at nameless, faceless, offshored customer service agents again.

• Click here for info on Entergy Louisiana (not New Orleans)

• Click here for info on Entergy New Orleans and other areas (including Entergy Purgatory, Entergy Limbo, and Entergy New West Hell)

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Sitting in the truck last night and listening to WWL radio, they were finally able to get a live interview with the sheriff of Terrebonne Parish (Houma). This is a lovely little city that straddles a bayou about 50 miles southwest of New Orleans. It’s home to bluesman Tab Benoit and a host of other tremendously nice people who are former customers and remain good friends.

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.

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This piece was written Tuesday night at home, where we have no power, Internet or whatever. But power came back on about 1am Wednesday morning, so we’re okay now.

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.

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Kinda weird around town today. We’re functioning, but we’re not. We opened our place at lunch and will go until the food is out. I’ve got a couple briskets working for tonight, but they’re not going to last long. The problem is that ALL re-supply places are closed until at least tomorrow or later in the week because their employees hit the road and aren’t back or won’t be allowed back for a few days yet. It’s frustrating, since so many places have power and inventory, but no one to sell it. I’ve got manpower and electricity, but little inventory. What I could really use right now is beer — not to drink but to sell.

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.

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That is what we are doing waiting. Waiting for the OK to go back home. Or at least to find out if they are blocking the roads and not going to let us come home or they are just suggesting we don’t came back yet. It is hard to tell from here. Both the Weather Channel and the News Channels have all but moved on so we are trying to get our info from the web but Internet access in the hotel can be spotty at times.
Hopefully we will find out what is going on soon and whether or not we are allowed to go home.

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Nothing new to report, either on the personal front or from my friends in the “strike zone”–which, in this case, was thankfully the “near-strike zone”. Seems like Gustav was mostly a non-event in New Orleans proper: you know, terrifying and everything, but not…well, not like last time. If/when I hear good stories from the housemate/nurse or from my pal Dorian, who rode it out at a restaurant on Bourbon Street, I’ll pass ‘em on.

P.S. Same goes for Lafayette and Baton Rouge, where the storms seems to have been much worse.

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Finally done for the day. The power is still out at the house, but it’s a pleasant evening with some rain and a decent breeze so we’ll be comfortable. And because the restaurant will be closed tomorrow (we’re slap out of food and the place a mess after being used as a dormitory for 24 or so hours), I’m in no hurry to head out. Nothing’s open anyway. I mean NOTHING. This is why we’re out of food.

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.

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Not to be all Cassandra and stuff, but, uh, don’t unpack yet:

Just sayin’.

Gaaaaah!

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Fellow Gustav-watchers: if you haven’t already done so, may I suggest ditching Anderson Cooper for a while (we’ll be back, sweetie!) and getting your news from WWL TV instead? Dennis and Angela are smart, sanguine, and storm-savvy. Also, they know full well how to pronounce “New Orleans”, which you’d have thought everyone on Planet Earth learned a couple of years ago, but apparently not. Added bonus: Angela’s outfits!

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I really wish CNN would stop running the headline “FLOODWATERS OVERTOP INDUSTRIAL CANAL LEVEE IN NEW ORLEANS”. The water is very high in the canal, and some water is blowing over the top, so maybe it’s semantic, but “overtop” sounds a little more dire and hysteria-inducing than necessary at the moment. Attention, CNN: we are already hysterical enough, thankyouverymuch. Also, CNN: I am within five blocks of your offices right now. Do not make me come down there.

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I watched a lot of television when Katrina struck. For several days, I was pretty much glued to Drew and Don’s living room floor. Thankfully, I soon realized that my psychological well being rose and sank in direct correlation to the amount of TV I saw. Even more luckily, the biggest gym in Lafayette offered New Orleanians a free month’s membership. All that yoga didn’t keep me from packing on weight, but at least I was happy. And fat–very fat.

Here in Atlanta, it’s a different story. I mean, it’s nice and everything, and it’s a pretty city, but we’re in a hotel this go-round, rather than with friends. Fewer distractions, more TV. I’m trying to avoid the CNN feast, but it’s a little hard. And there’s no gym–well, at least nothing free. Hello, fatness, my old friend.

On the upside: I have to say–and maybe I’m being optimistic, maybe I’m in denial–but it seems like they’re trying to make Gustav bigger than it is. Not that I don’t enjoy watching a windswept Andy Cooper do his thing–repeatedly–but it feels as if this might be a bit of a washout. (No pun intended.) Then again, maybe it seemed that way during Katrina. One more hour, then the dogs and I are going for a very long walk.

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We’ve been lucky so far, at least here in the city. It’s been raining on and off, but nothing particularly heavy. The wind has also kicked up quite a bit, but electric power is holding and I managed to get in a few hours of on-and-off sleep. It hasn’t helped that we’ve placed our inflatable bed directly underneath a spotlight that shines down on the coffee/tea station. The only way to turn the light off is to turn EVERYTHING off or to climb a ladder and unscrew the lightbulb. But it’s 12 feet up, the ladder is out in the rain, etc etc. As it is, I feel like I’m sleeping on a stage. LOOK! HE’S SLEEPING.

Looking at the radar, we’ve been in a gap between rain bands. We’re getting a good look outsideat the park across the street, where the trees are blowing around but nothing serious. Moisture-wise, I’ve been in more rain walking across a grocery store parking lot. I’d guesstimate sustained winds at only minimal tropical storm force, but we’re still several hours from landfall at about Morgan City, looks like. This would put New Orleans on the edge of or just outside the hurricane-force winds. But they’re catching it pretty good down at Grand Isle and Venice. Rain here will get a lot heavier shortly.

Okay, The TV is now saying gusts of 47 at the airport. They’re estimating we’ll remain below hurricane force here in town, but hurricane force by early afternoon in Houma, Cocodrie and in those areas. We have friends there, so they’ll have to remain hunkered for awhile. The graphic shows a Monopoly-type house in a pool of water, as if a child had tumped over a glass, ruining the game. The anchors are listening to the weather person, trying not to look mystified as she talks about the likelihood of various “rain events” before they return to interrupting the minor local official they’re interviewing.

Lucy Bustamante is nine kinds of hot. Lee Zurik appears to have something caught in his aggressive eyebrows. Ah. There we go. He brushed it away.

Things appear to be much easier in Plaquemines and St. Buhnawd so far. They haven’t yet said anything about conditions in Lafourche and Terrebonne. But it’ll be a few hours before any hell breaks loose, if it actually does. At least it’ll be in broad daylight. Here in New Orleans, it appears another major rain band just passed the other side of the river.

At least for now, it looks like we’ll be able to open back up tomorrow. If we continue like this, I don’t know if we’ll lose power Uptown for very long. But we’ll see, since we’ve got another 12 hours or so to go.

5

We packed up our two cars last night and left the city around 6:30pm. We heard about the mandetory evacuation while on the road. With a toddler it just did not make sense for us to stay plus we have over a week of free Hilton points racked up from my husband’s job so we reserved a room at the closest Hilton family hotel with availability and took off. The first two hours on the road were near hell. We moved 12.3 miles in two hours. It did not get a lot better until we reached Interstate 65 in Mobile. A trip that should have taken us 5 hours took 12 and a half. We arrived at the Hampton Inn in Troy, Alabama a little after 6:30 this morning. The baby slept through most of the drive so we have not had an opportunity to get much sleep here yet but we are holding together and hoping for some sleep tonight though with twenty-four hour weather channel coverage I am not sure how much sleep will actually come tonight.

We have run into two other families staying in our hotel sharing our plight, one from New Orleans and one from Houma. The Hampton Inn is being very nice to all of us, they have also bending their no pet policy and are letting us bring our pets into the hotel.

Good luck to everyone who stayed behind.

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