I have always hated the "when it rains, it pours" cliche but right now I'm all wet with no where to shelter to run and hide.
I'm underpaid working for manipulative, self-absorbed family while doing a job I hate that stifles my creative talents with family life consisting of a blossoming bridezilla who was previously my baby sister, a mentally unstable mother with a penchant for unloading her cart of emotional baggage on my cell phone-riddled ear and a princess-in-training niece on the way (as I type) whose soon-to-be mother, aka my middle sister, will have the perfect husband/finances/body/home pending completion of this child bearing episode.
And don't get me started on my wishing-he-never-had-children, I-don't-understand-women, you-can-do-anything-but-don't-ask-me-for-help father.

Not that I'm feeling sorry for myself. But a venting was in order.

The Dandruff of Consumerism

So yesterday I'm listening to NPR on my way to work, as I do every morning, and they're running a multi-reporter in-depth look at ... shampoo. This amidst the greatest worldwide economic upheaval since the 1920s.

The hair-raising (or should I say rinsing) diagnosis: Americans wash their hair too often. Now, I can't say that I'm surprised. As Americans, we delve into cleanliness with a passion only otherwise reserved for war.

Certainly, this story had to have some financial impact. We - as Americans - are running up credit card tabs full of sudsy bubbles?

No.

But in a most subtle way, through no intention of NPR's producers I'd guess, it drove home the point of why we Americans are swept up in this crisis.

A 1908 US newspaper article was cited saying that it was safe for Americans to wash their hair once every two weeks. And in a mere 100 years, we've evolved to cleaning our oily noggins a minimum of four times a week.

And because of this, we're wasting money on mass quantities of shampoos and conditioners (to put back in the oil we strip out thru too-frequent washes). Not to mention the water conservation we could champion without constant sudsing.

But our consumerism society, with its commercials for Farrah's Shampoo, have convinced us that once-a-week washing is not enough. And the cheap shampoo is not enough. Oh, and you need conditioner. And I guess you'll need a bigger bathroom to hold all of those products. Or maybe you need a tub with jets to waste more water and more electricity.

Which leads to a bigger bathroom, followed by a bigger house to hold that bathroom.

And pretty soon you've got Americans borrowing way beyond their means, because they need 3400 square feet of living space.

And they take out ARMs to pay for it. And the world's economy goes to hell in a handbasket.

But with shiny locks, of course.

Piece of the pie

(t-shirt available from DirtyCoast.com ... )

The only reason I clicked to read this Nola.com article was because 1) Chris Rose wrote it and 2) I was screening it with the intent to send to Matthew's sports-heavy attention.

Shame, shame, shame on modern journalism.

Journalist Bob Kravitz isn't totally at fault that the editors at the Indianapolis Star haven't held him to such standards as to fully research stories and I'm sure this writing isn't indicative of every story Bob Kravitz has written. But really, what a shame.

His story tells the tale of a young man growing up in a rough section of Jefferson Parish ... Metairie to be exact. And, as Chris Rose harps, he uses the words "miserable, hopeless and dangerous." So much for that t-shirt.

But just as Obama isn't representative of every black person you've met, Central City looks nothing like Lakevew and one awful fashion buyer decision doesn't bankrupt The Gap, so too does this basketball star's recollection differ from a kid who grew up in "Old" Metairie or near-the-lake Metairie or other serene Metairie suburban expanses.

It has stirred up outrage - and agreeance - across those 7000_ zip codes.

Should Bob take this misstep as guidance for future articles? Leaving out such harsh words unless having fully researched the person/place/thing?

Sure.

But maybe we should all take a step back and realize that because your Metairie holds different meaning than his doesn't mean he's lying. It just goes to show that everything's relative. It's all in perspective and perception.

And nothing is black & white. Not even taxes.

RIP Aftermath

It seems to me that those oft used phrases "Hurricane Katrina and her tragic 'aftermath'" may have had their 60 seconds of fame. The words are the only retirees, as the credits are still written across the city.
I'm not sure if the close of 2008 also marked the end of Katrina's responsibility, or if upcoming 2009 Man vs. Army Corps of Engineers battles are to blame, but local and national media have a new moniker for our darkest of days, "levee failures" or "levee breaks."
President Obama used those words in his one-for-the-ages inauguration speech*, I've read it in the NYT, the Gambit Weekly, nola.com and The Washington Post. {Though your average New Orleanian, Chris Rose included, still references all time/date memory stamps as before or after The Storm.}
I wonder, what marks this change? Is it that fault has shifted? Are we changing our tune from poor pitiful me to the blame game? Do we need to put it in tangible terms so business feel more comfortable taking advantages of our tax incentives? Levees can be strengthened. Buildings can be raised.
But storms. Storms do not listen to reason.
I can't say I mind. I like the idea of taking responsibility for those things within our control. Following Obama's lead; pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. Take something off of Mother Nature's broad shoulders.
And I'm sure it's not that they've been reading every Levees.org Corps-bashing email in their inbox. Who has the time?


*For the record, how cool is it that a New Orleans event was given a mention in the most historic inaugural speech - maybe most historic, period - in US history?

Death by commercialization.

Has Haydel's turned into freaking Hallmark? Please stop whoring out this Mardi Gras tradition. I don't want a King Cake candy cane or Easter egg.
These sugary sweet confections -originally gifts to the magi- are meant to be eaten and celebrated only during Carnival ... It's tied into the allure of the season. Will everything henceforth follow the vain of Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving?

I can't imagine any turnaround this year, for Rex's sake. At the rate this economy is sagging, retailers might begin the Christmas push (or really, pushiness) just after July 4th. This rush and overanticipation is bleeding into our societal values and is putting immense pressure on the future of our country, our children.

My 9-year-old Godchild received a cell phone for Christmas, complete with her own phone and texting plan. And she already is waiting for a good grades check to cash in for an iPhone. I wonder what she's got to look forward to. At this rate, she'll have a laptop by 11, a car by 13, her own condo by 16 and will have been having sex since she's 10.

And what will the leaders that come from this generation do? Begin a war in anticipation of one? Is that what we have to look forward to?

'twas the night before Thursday

1989 ... 2004 ... 2008
The years of my lifetime when the New Orleans area received a blanket of snowfall.
This photo is from my near-the-New-Orleans-Airport office window today, December 11, 2008.
Whether it's the large per-capita voodoo priestesses or our ne're-do-well Saints curse, we're a pretty superstituous people. And seeing as how Christmas Day 2004 - which preceeded the Big Storm of 2005 - was a snow-filled celebratory event, many are wary of what the 09 hurricane season will bring.
Though the boyfriend and I have a Move-To-Paris Emergency Plan should the city flood again, I would rather dwell on those highlights of 2005.
Dirty Coast T-shirts, for one. And the rising popularity of ligers due to 2004's Napoleon Dynamite release. At that time we only thought the economy was nosediving; we too thought $2.90/gallon gas prices were outrageously high. Also responsible civic duty, months without murders, arrest of the BTK, neighborly acts of kindness, SDT Waste & Debris, renovated houses, renovated public school systems, the truth about the Iraq War beginnings, Fiona Apple's Extraordinary Machine.
So maybe 2009 brings unexpected joy, peace and goodwill toward men; you can't enjoy the great moments if you don't know how bad it can be.
Or maybe next year I'll be blogging from Paris.