The doctor is once again IN. And you know what that means -- get your highly caffeinated beverage of choice and get ready for another -- YAWN -- Dr. Dad epistle.
First things first, happy 27th to all!
I decided today seemed a good day to give you all an update from the Crescent City, due to the unusual near confluence of anniversaries on this date. Not only is this the 27th, but in 2 days it will be nine months since Katrina changed our lives here forever, and in 4 days, it will be the official start of another busy hurricane season, which makes all of us here rather skittish, as you can imagine.
My beloved city is still bruised and broken, but not beaten. Right now, nearly nine months since the hurricane struck, my own neighborhood in Metairie [a suburb of New Orleans in Jefferson Parish] is improving greatly, yet there is still much to do. The local businesses are roughly 90% open -- though there are still abandoned businesses and others still struggling to open. Our neighborhood of homes, ironically, has turned into a kind of trailer park. FEMA trailers can be seen in front of nearly half of the homes here. And few houses have completed their repair work. You may ask, what's taking so long?? The simple answer -- sheer volume. With nearly 200,000 homes damaged or destroyed by Katrina, there just simply aren't enough contractors, plywood, sheetrock, cabinet makers, roofers, appliances, furniture, electricians, plumbers, etc etc etc. for everyone. It just takes time. And we've learned patience. Surprisingly, essentially all here are rebuilding, and most are staying. A few are putting their homes up for sale and getting out of Dodge. But only a few.
New Orleans itself is another matter. While, here too, areas of the city proper are indeed rebuilding, others remain devastated. The worst areas remain the same ones whose names you've probably heard on the news before -- the Ninth Ward, Lakeview, New Orleans East, St Bernard Parish, Plaquemines Parish. While a few individual homes and businesses have started to rebuild in these areas, most remain as they were the day after the storm, albeit with a bit less water inside. And in those areas are literally acres of gutted, damaged, and abandoned homes and businesses; the comment of "looks like a bomb went off here" is frequently heard.
A parade of celebrities, politicians, and/or dignitaries comes through these areas even now, and their responses are always remarkably similar -- "I had no idea it was still so bad", "I can't believe how little progress has been made", and the most-often-heard quote: "I saw the pictures on the news, but you just can't really understand it until you see it with your own eyes". To which we N'Awlinians say, "Amen dere, brudda." And needless to say, the fact that Hurricane Season is literally just around the corner is causing a few sleepless nights; but we all figure at most 5 to 7 storms will hit the mainland US this year, and with an entire Gulf Coast and Atlantic Coast to pick on, the odds of us getting hit a second time in a row seem remote. Or at least we keep repeating that in our heads. 
Of course, we ALL hope that the actual number is ZERO -- or that if they hit, it's in some unpopulated area of Texas or Florida where just a few trees will be knocked over. Trust me, we don't even want our worst enemies [no, not even the Atlanta Falcons ... 
] to have to go through what we've gone through.But yet progress is indeed being made. As you have undoubtedly heard, our mayor Ray Nagin was last week reelected to another four year term to lead the city through this crisis. While, as a resident of Jefferson Parish and not Orleans, I couldn't vote in the mayoral election, the leader of the city obviously impacts myself and my family through where we work, shop, and find resources. The biggest fear in New Orleans is a fear of returning to the politics of old -- the "good old boy" network, the "pork barrel" contracts.
Our string of indicted politicians is unfortunately quite long -- former Governor Edwin Edwards is still serving jail time; former mayor Mark Morial is under investigation; numerous judges, state representatives, and other locals you've never heard of are being looked into. And now, of course, we have William Jefferson in the House on the nightly news. And he is of course guilty -- something our national image really needs while our city is struggling on life support. And that's why I believe Nagin won again. He won the first time BECAUSE he was not a part of the Louisiana political machine. Mitch Landrieu, while a good man, is a part of a Louisiana political family, albeit one without a lot of skeletons in its closet [unlike many others]. His father Moon Landrieu was the last Caucasian mayor of the city in the seventies and his sister Mary is one of our Senators. Many in the media say this race was based on, well, race -- i.e. black vs white. And while that played a part, it was by no means the reason for Nagin's win. Many poor African Americans in the city felt abandoned by Nagin during Katrina, and even before the storm, many of them felt Nagin was more "white" in his actions and demeanor than he was "black". On the other side, Landrieu, and especially his father, had a history of civil rights activism which many African Americans embraced. And of course, the world heard Nagin's "chocolate city" speech on Martin Luther King Day this year, which did alienate a lot of the Caucasian base that got him elected in 2002. So how did he win? Like I said, for all his faults [and boy, he's got them], and despite his obvious mistakes during Katrina, at least NO ONE doubted his loyalties to this city instead of to his political buddies. Sorry for the political diatribe, but since our election was the lead national news story when it happened, I felt SOMEBODY needed to hear the WHOLE story. [A quick personal aside -- while I'm not crazy about either guy, and while Mitch could have had better national connections for us, I do think Nagin will at least try his best and will be straight up about his dealings for the city, so ... I'm cautiously hopeful.]And personally, you ask? How'm I doin'?
In a word ... "better". And believe you me, that's saying a lot. I'll explain.
As I type this, my former bedroom remains a warehouse of storage boxes and tools. We continue to sleep upstairs in our spare bedroom. But I am thankful for even HAVING an upstairs to live in, and not a blazingly-hot-in-the-summer-freezing-cold-in-the-winter-cramped-claustrophobic-$80000-of-your-freakin'-tax-dollars-at-work FEMA trailer. Our walls are up for the most part, our tile is laid out, though we still have some flooring to lay. Our cabinets just came in this past week, and hopefully by next week, we'll have them installed and can finally not store our food and utensils in boxes. Also, hopefully within a week or two, our family of five will FINALLY have at least one more toilet in the house [talk about relief!!
]. And we are taking the opportunity -- I mean, hey, the walls are down already, right? -- to do some major renovations to our 30 year old house [in which we've lived for 15 of them], trying to get it into the 21st century. So by August -- roughly one year after our adventure began -- we figure the last paintbrush will be washed clean, the last nail will be hammered, the last decoration will be hung on the walls. And life can begin again.[It's interesting to see what this storm has done to us and our friends. We get so excited over what seems like the stupidest things -- "Oh. My. Gawd. Norma, dawlin', you will never believe it. Guess what? WE FINALLY GOT WALLS!!" "OH MY GAWD! That's fantastic! I'm so happy for you, sweethawt!!!"
But -- hey! -- this is the New New Orleans.]My wife and I have said before, if it were just the hurricane and the rebuilding to do, we'd handle it. It wouldn't be simple obviously, but we'd get through it. Unfortunately, we have a "bit" more on our plate than "just" the destruction of our home. Someday, if those issues get closer to resolution, I'll be able to talk about it. But not now. We'll still handle it. Your prayers, warm thoughts, and good vibes sent our way though would be magnanimously accepted with extreme gratitude. Nuff said.
I'd be lying if I didn't say that this last year has been the most difficult I could have ever imagined. Not just from the storm, but from all the other personal and professional issues my family and I have faced. Suffice it to say that the very makeup of our entire family has been challenged ... and our faith tested in ways about which I would have never dared to dream.
Amd yet, in unexpected ways, hope emerges. For instance, a few days ago, I was given yet again some extremely bad news [which has since improved dramatically fortunately, but was at that moment, well, devastating]. I found it nearly impossible to be excited over anything after that. I was checking my e-mails, looking for additional information on what I'd been told, when I ran across an e-mail from an Al Yahoo Group I'm in which mentioned some new fan-made videos to Al's songs. I clicked the link and watched the Lego "Hardware Store" and "Your Horoscope For Today" videos on weirdal.com. Not only were they cleverly and lovingly made videos, but they were of two of my favorite Al songs ever. I smiled and laughed ... something just a few hours before, I would have thought completely and utterly impossible. I remembered how much I listened to Al as I made the 350-mile one-way drive many times this past fall between Shreveport [where we evacuated to] and New Orleans [for me to continue cleaning out the house and to meet contractors, inspectors, and adjustors], and how he helped me get through those initial weeks of anxiety and uncertainty. My CD holder with my Al CDs got stuck in a box when we moved back to New Orleans, and I hadn't seen it in a while. After watching the videos and hearing those songs again, I went to the bedroom and started digging through boxes. When I found the CD holder, an unexpectedly odd feeling came over me. I felt exactly -- EXACTLY -- the way I felt when I first saw some friends I hadn't seen or heard from since the storm -- that feeling of relief that they were okay and the hope that our lives would someday get back to what they were and our friendship would continue. I stared at the CD case. Hello, old friend. Damn glad to see you again.
I know others have spoken about how Al's music has given them laughter and hope when they needed it most. And I knew it was true, but I never really "got it" until just then. It's like looking up that old college chum of yours who always knew how to crack you up. You think sometimes maybe you've outgrown him. But whenever he tells that corny joke -- you laugh. And you remember the first time he told that joke, and how hard you laughed then. And you laugh more. And then you think back and remember all the goofy gags and all the times he's made you laugh over the years. And you laugh till you cry. And then you realize ... all the bitterness, all the uncertainty, all the insanity in the world -- while it's still very much there to be dealt with -- for a moment, disappeared. Your brain took a mini-vacation to a happy place. And even if the mini-vacation was only for a few seconds, the resulting respite lasts. And suddenly you have the courage to do whatever it is you have to do. Call it endorphins, call it comic relief, call it what you will -- it works. While I've only seen Al after a concert twice in my life [the last time, ironically, in New Orleans at the House of Blues on August 29, 2004 -- exactly one year before Katrina hit the city], I feel after over 25 years of listening to him and Dr Demento that he is truly a friend ... an old friend I've only just met.
So, in an open letter, I say to you Al -- thank you and God bless you. You may think what you do is trivial in the grand scheme of things. I can even hear you say, "But, Jim, for crying out loud, you're a doctor, you save lives every day! That's meaningful, that's what's important. Me, I'm just a goofy guy with an accordion." Don't you kid yourself. You may not realize it, but you save lives as well. Frankly, you had a part in saving this one right here. And I know -- I KNOW -- I'm not alone. You give hope and laughter in a world desparately hungering for it. Sure, you're not everyone's cup of tea, but who is? There are those who can't stand Jim Carrey or Steve Martin or Richard Pryor or Lucille Ball or any one of the other comedy legends out there. But if we are lucky, we find one that tickles our funny bone in just the right way, the way that affects us the most. And for me, that's you. And whether no one ever buys another album of yours again [and we all know THAT will never happen], you can know that you've "done something meaningful" in your life. You've helped others find happiness when they thought there was none to be had. And in the grand scheme of things, that's truly what it's all about. So, once again, thank you Al.
Okay, time to wrap this up ... now I've gone from boring to maudlin. [See, kids, reading these epistles not only helps you sleep better, but it also prepares you for the vocabulary part of your SATs!!
] Once things get a bit more settled, I'll given another update, and soon, I promise, I'll be back more regularly -- hopefully in time for the release of the new AL-bum! So, with that, I bid you all a pleasant 27th. See ya soon! 
Dementedly yours,
Dr. Dad / Jim
