Upside-Down, Inside-Out, And Back-Asswards

On MSNBC just now, a reporter (I didn't catch her name) pointed out that as the waters begin to recede from New Orleans, the fact represents "fresh territory" (her words) for looters: areas are now beginning to open where they couldn't go before.

This is happening just as officials are stepping-up efforts to remove people from their homes.

Am I the only one who sees the problem with this?

It's been on my mind for several days, now: that city does not belong to those "officials". They have no moral authority to force anyone to leave their homes or anything else privately owned. All the "officials" have is power. Just like Mao.

Flight Note

I leave for Japan tomorrow. Going through my work bag just now, I found this note that I hand-scribbled on the return from the New Year's Jakarta jaunt:

"1/1/05 -- 41,000 feet, halfway to Hong Kong (off north coast of Borneo), Singapore Airlines --

Looking up at thundertops. Huge Wx. Never seen this before. Asked attendant if possible to visit cockpit. He seemed quite disappointed to say no. 'Not possible anymore, since 9/11.'

This is so sad.

The time is past when men might look each other in the eye, to sense their hearts. That skill is disappearing. All is 'policy' now.

And I don't believe that will see us through.

(Ps. -- night falls quickly up here.)"

(Doh! -- I don't leave until Saturday. Jeezis. Wotta dope.)

What Winds Blow

Ten or twelve years ago, I was on the road on a hip-hop tour. This was a couple of years after my old friend Spyder Clarke had almost been murdered in Pittsburgh, and everybody doing this kind of work knew how the weather had changed: there were some very ugly winds blowing through.

A few of us old-timers, including me and the only other white boy on the tour, were sitting around on a crew coach after the load-out. Someone mentioned that he'd heard one of the youngsters having a beef with someone else and mouthing-off about his guns. One of my old mates, Gerald, waved it off, saying, "Oh, that's just kids talking." There was a heavy moment of silence: Gerald is a good man in every dimension, and nobody wanted to step right out and say that he was being foolish. I said, "I don't know, man. That might have been true when you and I were growing up, but these kids now are something else. I never know what they're going to do next, and I don't think it's smart to dismiss this quite that easily."

Gerald just looked at me for a long moment: he didn't say anything because he thought about it and he knew I was right.

The kid in question was relieved of a sidearm later that week, and sent home.

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Go read something that Diana found in the wake of Katrina.