Ephemera

More thoughts on New Orleans.

I'm really sorry that I missed New Orleans. It's long been on my list of places to "get to," and now it looks as though I missed it. My sister had a friend in the Big Easy. He lived on the ground floor of the oldest apartment building in the French Quarter, and therefore, I think, North America. He had this enormous bathtub behind a wall of windows looking out onto Bourbon Street. You could see out, but no one could see in. So my sister enjoyed lighting candles, taking a bath, and watching the streetlife outside. Wow. How sublime is that?

And of course, New Orleans, and Labor Day Weekend, was the site of Southern Decadence. I've heard the stories, and it sounded pretty wonderful. Joyful erotic abandon.

And now, unless the Powers That Be get off their butts and decide that not just the buildings and the infrastructure, but the very spirit of the place is something that we can't let Katrina wash away, then it's all gone. Washed into the toxid brew that the Gulf has become.

Which makes me think of the Fire Island Pines. That magical and transcendant and beautiful place. It's pretty much a given that one day, within my lifetime, a well placed hurricane is going to make it all go away. It's only a sandbar, afterall. The wise man built his house upon the rock, and the foolish men (and women) built their houses on the sand. Wonderful houses that they are. And one day it will be no more.

I guess there's a "Don't Postpone Joy" message in there. Treasure what the Lord has given us today. Because tomorrow, it might be a dimming memory.

---