Mostly quiet on the southern front
After accepting the position at Louisville, I fell into a bit of a funk. I guess, when it comes down to it, I was weighing how "worth it" it was to remain invested in my final month or so here. I have oodles of free time now and there's so much on the domestic front to do to prepare to leave. But, this is the time of year, too, when people come out of their hibernations and start having fun. For a week or so, I just hid out. Bought some boxes, did some packing, destroying the apartment in the process. But then I realized I had two options, I could stay in hiding and quietly slink out of town, or I could go out, be with people, and take the risk of making and/or cementing friendships that it will make me incredibly sad to leave.
So, in the past few days I've tried the social thing. I went to the aquarium with a friend from work. She's a science teacher. We walked from her house, a few blocks away, to La Boulangerie (french bakery) Sunday morning and then took the bus from there. The aquarium had just opened on Friday, and it was crowded, but it wasn't bad. I'd been planning on going anyway, but I was so happy to have gone with her. It made it seem not so weird that I was all weepy and choked up because she was too. We made a bee-line for the penguins. I can't tell you how happy it made me to see them. And a little sad, too. A little sad to be there knowing what devastation the aquarium had seen just nine months ago. Actually more than “a little,” but you just have to try to push beyond that and be happy that its back. But even though it looks basically “normal” again, there’s no real way to totally get rid of the fact that I know what happened there, and what happened was horror.
I imagine it will always be the same way with the Superdome and the Convention Center too. I can’t drive by the Convention Center without a chill of the willies.
Then the science teacher and I had lunch at Fiorella’s in the Quarter and headed back home. It was such a nice day. She’s such a nice person. And she reads this blog, so it’s strange to write about her, so I won’t. I’ll just say that it was one of the nicest afternoons I’ve had in a really long time. Perfect way to spend a Sunday.
And then that evening I met an emerging friend from the MFA program for drinks. (I know, two social events in a single day, what’s the world coming to?). It was a night that could have gone either way. We’ve only talked in twenty minute spurts before class or during the breaks in class. But he was, hands down, the best writer in the class, and we have lots of things in common. And I’ll be damned if we didn’t spend four hours drinking beer and chatting. And he’s exactly the kind of person I was thinking about when I worried about making new friends I’d be sad to leave. Absolutely one of the most fascinating people I’ve met in a long time.
Now that I think about it, it’s strange to write about anybody else in this blog. I’d love to be specific, talk about what makes this guy so unusual… and people do it all the time, don’t they? Talk openly about their lives (which I do) and the people in their lives on their blogs? Isn’t that what blogs are for? I guess I talk a little about Jason, but not in specific ways. And he lives with me. It’s kind of hard not to.
Anyway, I forgot how nice it can be to meet a new person. The MFA program has yielded at least three, maybe four or five, new friends. It’s been a long time since I really got to know a new person. And in the past four months or so, I’ve had around three unforgettable, long conversations. That’s precious. Those multiple-hour getting-to-know-you conversations. On the upside, hopefully the move to Louisville will give me more opportunity for those.
Monday night I met a bunch of the MFA-ers for drinks. We used to meet after Fiction class at the Parkview Tavern, and we’ve continued the tradition since classes ended. I got there late, around 1030p or so, and the crowd was already in full form. Within an hour or so of me getting there, someone had broken out a set of bocce balls and started a game on the neutral ground. Apparently this happens frequently, but I’ve always had to leave early to teach. I didn’t participate, but it made me happy knowing that after midnight there were people lawn bowling on the neutral ground.
At the Parkview, I finally met Josh Clark (see, I feel like I can mention his name because he’s already a “public figure”). Turns out he used to work at Flanagan’s, the bar downstairs from where Blake used to run his guesthouse. He actually knew Blake and reminded me of this crazy story from when we first started dating. There was a guy who rented a room for an entire summer (at least I think it was a summer) and the guy turned out to be a hit man from Canada in hiding. Anyway, it’s about time I met Josh. He knows Jas, he published French Quarter Fiction in which my friend Lorin has a story, and he used to date the mom of a student of mine who I was particularly close to. And, of course, I’m sure I saw him at Flanagan’s. (In case you aren’t familiar with the name, he’s a local publisher/writer type. Wrote a particularly scandalous piece for Salon.com from the trenches right after Katrina. Basically your run-of-the-mill local literary celebrities. But if you haven’t bought French Quarter Fiction yet, it’s damned good. And his introduction is really damned good.)
Other than that, have had some long talks with school folks. Seems like most of them are shocked that I’ve been so gracious considering the circumstances. Even my close friends. And it’s made me realize a couple of things. First of all, I’ve always known that I have a bit of reputation for being a “rabble rouser.” It’s never bothered me. I’m a convicted person and I stand behind my convictions, and I think that’s okay. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that people thought I would raise holy hell over being basically laid off. But the little demon on my shoulder tells me that if I am such a convicted person, why didn’t I raise a bit more of a ruckus? I can’t remember who I said this to, but I recently compared it to being in a bad relationship. Why fight to stay in a relationship when the other person clearly doesn’t care about YOU? (I’ve done that before, so the question isn’t entirely rhetorical.) I’ve heard the same thing from too many people: “You should be more pissed off than you are.”
And in retrospect, I suppose the one thing that really does piss me off was that the fate of my employment seems to have been decided by one or maybe two people who have consistently shown poor judgment in other aspects as well. I mean, if this were “Survivor” and the faculty had gotten to vote someone off the island, I’m sure I wouldn’t be going. But it wasn’t democratic, and that’s the way businesses work.
That being said, those one or two people are in charge, and they continue to make what I feel are really bad choices. Some of the school folk have said, “It may just be that you’re getting out before the shit really hits the fan.” And I lean toward believing them. But even in my most bitter moments, I don’t want that to happen. I still love the school (just like I’ve still loved some crappy boyfriends). And I want the school to see a post-Katrina renaissance. The girls deserve that, and so do the fantastic faculty. (Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing a bloodless coup evolve)
Speaking of coups, I’m just digging Al Gore these days. I heard part of an interview with him on Fresh Air today. Terry Gross asked him, basically, why he relatively gracefully accepted defeat after the Supreme Court ruling in 2000, and he said, (I’m paraphrasing), “I decided to accept the rule of law. Once you take it to the judiciaries, and they rule against you, your only option after that is a coup.” Man, I would have liked to have seen that. I would have been out there with my pitchfork.
I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m a Hillary Clinton kind of gal. Joe Biden knocked my socks off on some interview or another, but I don’t know enough about the guy. I think I’d be behind a second-coming of Gore. Seems to me he’s developed both a mission and a sense of humor since 2000. The two things noticeably absent from his campaign. Kerry? What was I thinking? I’ll tell you what I was thinking: Get Bush the hell out of here. Seriously though, Kerry wasn’t all bad. And I do honestly believe that this city would be in far better shape now, and would have been in far, far, far better shape on August 30, if Kerry had been in office. How do I know? It couldn’t BE worse. He HAD to have done better. Even if he’d spent August 28-September 10 on his yacht in Nantucket. Seriously. He would have done less harm by windsurfing.
How bad is it? Well, hurricane season is less than 48hours away. And although I live in one of the best neighborhoods in the city, one of the dry areas, the “sliver on the river” as it were, if you turn the corner from my house and walk a block, there is still a two story house, flattened. The roof is on the ground, and you can still see the kitchen cabinets. The front porch of the house still leans against the house next door. It’s been nine months. And outside the bar that we go to every week, you can still play bocce ball on the neutral ground at midnight. Because there’s no traffic, no street cars, and few people home. It’s charming in some ways, and horrifying in others.
So, in the past few days I've tried the social thing. I went to the aquarium with a friend from work. She's a science teacher. We walked from her house, a few blocks away, to La Boulangerie (french bakery) Sunday morning and then took the bus from there. The aquarium had just opened on Friday, and it was crowded, but it wasn't bad. I'd been planning on going anyway, but I was so happy to have gone with her. It made it seem not so weird that I was all weepy and choked up because she was too. We made a bee-line for the penguins. I can't tell you how happy it made me to see them. And a little sad, too. A little sad to be there knowing what devastation the aquarium had seen just nine months ago. Actually more than “a little,” but you just have to try to push beyond that and be happy that its back. But even though it looks basically “normal” again, there’s no real way to totally get rid of the fact that I know what happened there, and what happened was horror.
I imagine it will always be the same way with the Superdome and the Convention Center too. I can’t drive by the Convention Center without a chill of the willies.
Then the science teacher and I had lunch at Fiorella’s in the Quarter and headed back home. It was such a nice day. She’s such a nice person. And she reads this blog, so it’s strange to write about her, so I won’t. I’ll just say that it was one of the nicest afternoons I’ve had in a really long time. Perfect way to spend a Sunday.
And then that evening I met an emerging friend from the MFA program for drinks. (I know, two social events in a single day, what’s the world coming to?). It was a night that could have gone either way. We’ve only talked in twenty minute spurts before class or during the breaks in class. But he was, hands down, the best writer in the class, and we have lots of things in common. And I’ll be damned if we didn’t spend four hours drinking beer and chatting. And he’s exactly the kind of person I was thinking about when I worried about making new friends I’d be sad to leave. Absolutely one of the most fascinating people I’ve met in a long time.
Now that I think about it, it’s strange to write about anybody else in this blog. I’d love to be specific, talk about what makes this guy so unusual… and people do it all the time, don’t they? Talk openly about their lives (which I do) and the people in their lives on their blogs? Isn’t that what blogs are for? I guess I talk a little about Jason, but not in specific ways. And he lives with me. It’s kind of hard not to.
Anyway, I forgot how nice it can be to meet a new person. The MFA program has yielded at least three, maybe four or five, new friends. It’s been a long time since I really got to know a new person. And in the past four months or so, I’ve had around three unforgettable, long conversations. That’s precious. Those multiple-hour getting-to-know-you conversations. On the upside, hopefully the move to Louisville will give me more opportunity for those.
Monday night I met a bunch of the MFA-ers for drinks. We used to meet after Fiction class at the Parkview Tavern, and we’ve continued the tradition since classes ended. I got there late, around 1030p or so, and the crowd was already in full form. Within an hour or so of me getting there, someone had broken out a set of bocce balls and started a game on the neutral ground. Apparently this happens frequently, but I’ve always had to leave early to teach. I didn’t participate, but it made me happy knowing that after midnight there were people lawn bowling on the neutral ground.
At the Parkview, I finally met Josh Clark (see, I feel like I can mention his name because he’s already a “public figure”). Turns out he used to work at Flanagan’s, the bar downstairs from where Blake used to run his guesthouse. He actually knew Blake and reminded me of this crazy story from when we first started dating. There was a guy who rented a room for an entire summer (at least I think it was a summer) and the guy turned out to be a hit man from Canada in hiding. Anyway, it’s about time I met Josh. He knows Jas, he published French Quarter Fiction in which my friend Lorin has a story, and he used to date the mom of a student of mine who I was particularly close to. And, of course, I’m sure I saw him at Flanagan’s. (In case you aren’t familiar with the name, he’s a local publisher/writer type. Wrote a particularly scandalous piece for Salon.com from the trenches right after Katrina. Basically your run-of-the-mill local literary celebrities. But if you haven’t bought French Quarter Fiction yet, it’s damned good. And his introduction is really damned good.)
Other than that, have had some long talks with school folks. Seems like most of them are shocked that I’ve been so gracious considering the circumstances. Even my close friends. And it’s made me realize a couple of things. First of all, I’ve always known that I have a bit of reputation for being a “rabble rouser.” It’s never bothered me. I’m a convicted person and I stand behind my convictions, and I think that’s okay. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that people thought I would raise holy hell over being basically laid off. But the little demon on my shoulder tells me that if I am such a convicted person, why didn’t I raise a bit more of a ruckus? I can’t remember who I said this to, but I recently compared it to being in a bad relationship. Why fight to stay in a relationship when the other person clearly doesn’t care about YOU? (I’ve done that before, so the question isn’t entirely rhetorical.) I’ve heard the same thing from too many people: “You should be more pissed off than you are.”
And in retrospect, I suppose the one thing that really does piss me off was that the fate of my employment seems to have been decided by one or maybe two people who have consistently shown poor judgment in other aspects as well. I mean, if this were “Survivor” and the faculty had gotten to vote someone off the island, I’m sure I wouldn’t be going. But it wasn’t democratic, and that’s the way businesses work.
That being said, those one or two people are in charge, and they continue to make what I feel are really bad choices. Some of the school folk have said, “It may just be that you’re getting out before the shit really hits the fan.” And I lean toward believing them. But even in my most bitter moments, I don’t want that to happen. I still love the school (just like I’ve still loved some crappy boyfriends). And I want the school to see a post-Katrina renaissance. The girls deserve that, and so do the fantastic faculty. (Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing a bloodless coup evolve)
Speaking of coups, I’m just digging Al Gore these days. I heard part of an interview with him on Fresh Air today. Terry Gross asked him, basically, why he relatively gracefully accepted defeat after the Supreme Court ruling in 2000, and he said, (I’m paraphrasing), “I decided to accept the rule of law. Once you take it to the judiciaries, and they rule against you, your only option after that is a coup.” Man, I would have liked to have seen that. I would have been out there with my pitchfork.
I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m a Hillary Clinton kind of gal. Joe Biden knocked my socks off on some interview or another, but I don’t know enough about the guy. I think I’d be behind a second-coming of Gore. Seems to me he’s developed both a mission and a sense of humor since 2000. The two things noticeably absent from his campaign. Kerry? What was I thinking? I’ll tell you what I was thinking: Get Bush the hell out of here. Seriously though, Kerry wasn’t all bad. And I do honestly believe that this city would be in far better shape now, and would have been in far, far, far better shape on August 30, if Kerry had been in office. How do I know? It couldn’t BE worse. He HAD to have done better. Even if he’d spent August 28-September 10 on his yacht in Nantucket. Seriously. He would have done less harm by windsurfing.
How bad is it? Well, hurricane season is less than 48hours away. And although I live in one of the best neighborhoods in the city, one of the dry areas, the “sliver on the river” as it were, if you turn the corner from my house and walk a block, there is still a two story house, flattened. The roof is on the ground, and you can still see the kitchen cabinets. The front porch of the house still leans against the house next door. It’s been nine months. And outside the bar that we go to every week, you can still play bocce ball on the neutral ground at midnight. Because there’s no traffic, no street cars, and few people home. It’s charming in some ways, and horrifying in others.
posted by M at 11:39 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home