Down the Mississippi, down to New Orleans.

"I wake up in the morning
And I raise my weary head
I got an old coat for a pillow
And the earth was last night's bed
I don't know where I'm going
Only God knows where I've been
I'm a devil on the run
A six gun lover
A candle in the wind"-- Blaze of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi

That phrase echoed in the speakers of the jeep as I left Brandon this morning... Somehow, the soundtrack of my life never disappoints me. I was bound, as you probably know, for New Orleans, or at least my little corner of it. It's hard to describe how I felt as I put the cruise control on 75mph (120 kph for all my metric-using fans) and told myself to just keep the damn machine pointed south, and three hours later you should be there.

The trip from Jackson to Brandon isn't quite like a drive to the corner store, after all... And even if it was, I would probably have just walked and saved the gas.

The trip was uneventful until I hit Manchac... about 50 miles or so from New Orleans... Manchac is basically a fishing village on the bayou. It's home to Middendorfs, which serves the best fried catfish in the south. The simple functionality of the homes there always impressed me... no-nonsense numbers on stilts, only accessible by boat, built with only fishing and sleeping while fishing in mind. Most of them, sadly are gone now. Middendorfs is still there, but didn't look like it would be open for business for a while. I also saw standing water where there used to be a patch of land that comprised the town... Reclaimed by the swamps around it.

As I passed over the bonne carre spillway, I could see the train tracks that carried me safely out of the city a month ago... Or, rather what was left of them... The railway was washed out in many places, and Amtrak crews were trying to rebuild.

I went south there, across the river and along route 90. Destruction and trash was still everywhere... Couldn't go more than two blocks without seeing a building down. I started to worry at this point. I pulled into my Job's satellite office to see if there was any word... But the best I could get was "maybe in a month or two" not the most optimistic answer, but better than I hoped... I have a job when the company resumes operations... Probably in a month if all goes well. Good thing.

From there, I went straight to my apartment. The checkpoint to enter the parish was surreal, but one of New Orleans finest smiled and welcomed me back. Still there... no broken windows or doors. no flooding. Just as I left it. Relief washed over me as I was startled by a c7 cargo plane passing twenty feet over my house. The military is everywhere in the point, as it has become the launch point for the relief efforts on the eastbank. Very surreal. I also saw my neighbor, Keylee, outside washing her car. Her husband, Jack was one of the brave ones who stayed through the storm. One day, I'll have to sit down and buy that man a beer.

After catching up with Keylee fro a few minutes, I opened the door to my house, still half expecting a horror to await me inside. Everything was just as I had left it, except for the mouse bait, which had apparently been eaten by that pest, Pepino.

Yes, it was vermin, but I had named the mouse which had been keeping me up at night with all that rustling. It's dead now (it did eat all the poison) so get off my case. Of course I never did find the body, so.... Maybe Pepino just moved to Florida or something.

I gave the house the once over, and everything was fine. The power was on, the hot water was still hot, and even the cable TV worked! I even opened the fridge, thanking the good lord for the bachelor lifestyle that only had it filled with Mustard, Teriyaki sauce, and some fritos... no smell to speak of. Then, like an idiot pushing his luck after not getting electrocuted the first three times he touched the third rail, I opened the freezer. Completely oblivious to the two pounds of shrimp and pound of venison I had in there.

For weeks when the house had no power.

Sometimes, words fail you in trying to describe something... But if you take the worst smell you've ever smelled, add a few tons of rotting trash, and microwave some limburger cheese on top of it, you get the idea. Keep in mind, folks... I grew up downwind of the world's largest landfill. I know from stink. Nothing ever prepared me for this, though. Still, remember that I was a boy scout, and came prepared for this... Face mask, vapo rub, disposable gloves, trash bags, 409, vinegar, baking soda... I was set, and it took me a few hours to clean it all out.

I was sitting on my stoop for a while after, having a sandwich and a coke while the house aired out a bit, when my cell phone rang. It was Donald, who lived in Chalmette. For those of you unaware of what that means... chalmette was part of the city that was under twelve feet of water, and still under three feet of muck. He was calling to ask me how my place was, and to tell me that while he still has a job, he and his Dad had nowhere to stay.

I realized several things in that moment as I figured out how to answer...
1) Despite my whining to the contrary, I had lost virtually nothing compared to some others.
2) My friends are something else.
3) I still have a job, a home, and friends in New Orleans. How could I have ever been thinking about leaving?
4) I wouldn't be needing to use my apartment for at least a month... And have always wanted to travel a bit, anyway.

I offered my place to Donald on the spot. He mulled it over with his Dad for a bit, but accepted. I felt totally like I was "paying forward" the generosity that Drew and Stacey have this past month.

They picked up the key, I grabbed a few of my things, and was about to leave when my EX-MOTHER-IN-LAW calls my cell phone. Similar situation to Donalds.. But ten minutes too late. I felt bad, and I tried to find them a place to stay, but had no luck. It didn't help that she started the conversation with an insult, and refused to tell me anything about how they were, or where... Even though I have been trying to contact them since the storm to make sure they were okay. I spent a solid hour and a half driving around to every B&B I knew, every landlord I thought might have a place open, and asking everyone I knew in my neighborhood if they could take Char and her family in. I called and apologized to Her for not being able to help. She huffed, and hung up on me.

I hate that woman. SO glad the divorce is final.

Anyway, I left for Brandon confident in my future for the first time in months, stopping briefly to check on Kristen and her family (her neighborhood flooded, but is now habitable... Story for another blog.).

I have some money... The bills will be paid... My apartment is being used for a good cause... The open road beckons... And my life will be waiting for me when I return.

A good day. :)

"Well I'’m on my way
I don't know where IÂ’m going
I'’m on my way
I'’m taking my time
But I don'’t know where
Goodbye to Rosie the queen of Corona
See you, me and julio
Down by the schoolyard"-- Down by the Schoolyard, Simon and Garfunkel