Free-For-All Friday

I am tired of not laughing. This post is an effort to help us all smile again.

Headlines
You only have to read the headline to appreciate this one, but the article's fun too: Blind driver sets new speed record.

Buy a house, get a pig.

Forgive me, but I had to share this.

To Help You Feel Better About Yourself…
This section is better known as “Stupid Things Lee Ann Has Done This Week.” For today’s report, I took the "flip flops on the platform" debate to a new level.

We were back and forth to church a lot over the weekend, and somewhere in there my car wound up at church minus my keys. So that meant when I got to church for Sunday night service, I had my suit but only the flip flops I was wearing. So… the tough call was whether to wear the flip flops or go barefoot. I opted for barefoot on the scriptural basis of the choir loft being holy ground. I strategically placed myself on the second row so my bare feet would be blocked. Wouldn’t you know we had a "shoutdown" service and everybody cleared the choir loft to go and pray with displaced families joining us from the New Orleans area. Our choir director beckoned for me to come and sing in a trio on the platform as the worship escalated. Yipes—my front row of feet blockers were gone! So there I was singing my little heart out, barefoot as a yard dog. I told myself nobody noticed, but as service was ending and our trio headed off the platform, a lady in the congregation winked, pointed to my feet and smiled knowingly.

All this to say, when you’re beating yourself up for some miniscule thing you did wrong, just remember there are lots of people out there (namely me) doing much stupider things.

Oh and let’s not talk about how it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen my driver’s license. Pretty safe to say I'm going to be spending a fun-filled afternoon at the good ol' DMV. Hmmm.... time to obsess about the wardrobe choice for my new drivers' license mugshot. Oh the dilemma!

Walruses, Assassins, and Religious Rights

Headlines
Alaska natives don’t want their annual Walrus hunt to be filmed for fear of animal lovers’ backlash. I guess now would be a good time (or bad if you’re a proud PETA member) to tell you I am an avid outdoor sportwoman. I love to fish and don’t mind tagging along on warm weather hunts. I was raised on a family horse farm, so I am a realist when it comes to animals. I point out this article because I find it sad that this traditional celebration of Native American culture (and a subsistence means of survival for many people) has to be cloaked because animal rights activists with no connection to reality have enough political sway to malign such events. I say get OLN to cover the hunt live with slow-mo kill shots just to rub it in. (...Now let's see if I get any hate mail.)

Remember the guy who threw a grenade at President Bush back in May? Don’t feel bad if you didn’t—I didn’t either. Anyway, he was indicted today—(the suspected assassin, not President Bush).

How do you feel about this religious rights issue?

Dear Diary… Part 4
I continue to share my journal from last week during the Katrina meltdown.

Sat, Sept 3, 1:02 a.m.
Today was a better day. We made huge strides with our relief efforts and some of yesterday’s horror is erased by the fact we were able to help in a small way.

God smiled on me right off the bat. In the absence of my middle of the night gas run, I was really concerned about getting gas. But this morning I came across a station that had apparently just been filled by a tanker because it only had six or eight cars. I swerved into the station and pulled right up to the pump, not believing they really had gas. But sure enough! I was able to top off, and by the time I left, there were about four cars in line for my spot.

I also gained a fresh appreciation for structure and organization. We’ve got so many people needing help and so many people wanting to help, but at this early stage, there’s a huge gap in the middle where coordination, communication, and logistics come in. Fortunately organizations like CSI and individual churches come into play and help organize direct initiatives.

Well, my Mom was able to pick up another 25 gallons of water and lots of paper goods for the families in Franklinton. So today we were able to send over 75 gallons of water and some other needed items to that community.

Meanwhile, I finally got in touch with Vision Lady’s family from Pearl River. My parents and I are going in the a.m. with tons of miscellaneous supplies. As I was trying to coordinate that effort, word came in about some families from the Covington church needing help. Several families from our church have donated supplies, and we’re going to take a convoy over tomorrow to drop all of this off.

Meanwhile again, I got another call about a missions pastor in Plaquemines who is housing families with several small children with a need for baby supplies. It is killing me that I didn’t get to call them back and see about setting something up, but I spent the night on the phone trying to figure out what’s happening tomorrow and then, of course, the supply run itself. (Stores are having a nearly impossible time keeping up with the need as BR has become a staging area and a sort of last outpost for relief groups heading east. Only one of the four stores I went to today had bread.)

It is just feeling so good to know we’re helping in some small way, and I cannot wait to get these supplies to families tomorrow. I pray God will multiply our efforts so this can be a blessing.

A military vehicle blocks a road in Metairie as a chopper flies overhead. (Photo captured by my coworkers who went into the city on Wed Sept 8 to try to salvage belongings.)

The Tempest Continued

By the way, we have a new blogger at A Month in the Life. You’re sure to get a kick out of his posts.

Interesting commentary on David Hempton’s Methodism: Empire of the Spirit sent over by Kent Curry [hereafter known as the Book King]. Could all Americans really be closet evangelicals?

And I am not okay with this: http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/Autos/wireStory?id=1102967.

Dear Diary… Part 3
I continue to share my journal from last week during the Katrina meltdown.

Thurs, Sept 1, 11:09 a.m.
I’m starting to get concerned about gas. I had to run the roads for work today, but thankfully I’ve still got almost 2/3 a tank. I’m now running my car with no air conditioning to try to conserve gas. I’m going to plan a gas run for about 2:30 a.m. and hope not everyone else has the same idea.

Last night our college and career group started talking about ideas for helping in the relief effort. The need is so overwhelming, but we’re desperate to do anything that might ease the misery for the many affected by Katrina. I am trying to get supplies together for the families of the church in Pearl River. I got another message from a friend with family in Franklinton, a rural community due north of New Orleans, in need of supplies. So I’m hoping to get at least water tonight by going to as many stores as it takes.

10:30 p.m.
We’ve had to be careful with our relief efforts because our safety is at risk. We keep getting conflicting reports from the media, but our city is a dangerous place right now. Supposedly there have been several car-jackings and hostage situations downtown and even in my little hometown. It’s hard to say for sure because the press has different stories flying, but we do know that downtown buildings were evacuated. One of my coworkers a couple of cubes back called a friend on the police force to inquire and was simply advised: “buy a gun.” The sound of emergency vehicles are becoming more and more eerie to me. I’m trying not to be paranoid, but it feels as though our city is a hair’s breath away from martial law.

Extremely disturbing news came out of New Orleans today. We were watching footage, and I finally just had to turn it off. I’ve had enough. I know it’s reality and ignoring it won’t make it go away, but I just can’t take it anymore. I just don’t want to know about any more of the horrible things the poor victims in New Orleans are being subjected to. It’s not enough that natural disaster has destroyed beyond description, but now the animalistic evil of man is running rampant and unspeakable crimes are a reality. I’m sorry, but I choose to turn off reality right now. From here out I don’t care to know what’s going on. In fact, I just want to forget it ever even happened so I can go to sleep without being bombarded with images of helpless children and elderly people dying. I guess I shouldn’t have said “I want to forget,” but right now I do. Is that bad? Maybe I just need a break and will be crave the latest headlines again in the morning, but right now, I can’t take anymore.

The good news though is that my Mom and I were able to get to a grocery before dark. (Never thought I would say this, but we didn’t want to be out after nightfall.) We bought 51 gallons of water to send to Franklinton tomorrow, so at least we were able to do that. I keep being reminded that we take for granted the littlest things.

New Orleans evacuation buses park at the Walmart across from our church while their passengers, New Orleans evacuees, shop inside for essentials among the cleaned-out shelves and bare displays.

Goodbye, Gilligan

Bob Denver, star of the classic Gilligan’s Island, passed away Friday at age 70. Beyond the show’s parallel to Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, there are tons of papers and articles about the sitcom’s social and economic implications. Who knew?

Reader Feedback
Mitch writes in today asking, “Why are all the pictures of you bloggers barefoot?”

That’s a great question I thought you all might be wondering. The answer is that part of the blogger’s oath from Wendy that she discreetly left off the Passing of the Torch Ceremony was that we bloggers are ordered to burn our shoes (or flip flops) and portray the “barefoot in the back yard” delicate Southern belle image. Ladies, if you want to blog, lose the shoes. (Be looking for yet another barefoot story to come on Free-For-All-Friday.)

Dear Diary… Part 2
I continue to share my journal from last week during the Katrina meltdown.

Wed, Aug 31, 10:58 p.m.
Today brought change. As the significance and long-term nature of this disaster sinks in, efforts are in overdrive to get help to victims. Fortunately I was finally able to get directly involved and start helping today.

We met at work with limited power and started calling our staff to see who “made it.” Again the devastation really hit home as I talked to five friends who live and work in our Metairie branch. Thankfully all got out in time, but some of them have nothing more than a change of clothes and the car they rode out in. I've been so blessed in all of this that I feel downright guilty. Between the Dallas trip and our townhouse being near a hospital and getting power back quickly, I never even experienced the discomfort of no electricty. And here my friends are with all their material possessions gone and--worse--still not sure of the whereabouts of friends and family.

One coworker's father just suffered a stroke and needed somewhere to stay with power for medical reasons. Our boss graciously housed the entire family. For the first time I was able to fight a little of that helpless feeling by cooking supper for them. However, it’s overshadowed by the fact that there are thousands more like this family who are notyet within reach of help.

The Baton Rouge community has grown by 200,000 overnight. Our already challenged traffic system is now practically paralyzed. Rumors of crime in our cities are rampant, and the sound of sirens and flash of red lights is practically a constant on any major thoroughfare. Another huge problem is gasoline. For two weeks we’ve been consistently buying gas for just under $2.50. Today it shot over $3 when you can find a station that actually has any. My aunt waited in line four and a half hours to get gas. Things got so crazy and the influx of people got so overwhelming, my hometown actually shut off the interstate exit ramps today and wouldn’t let anyone else in. (Can you imagine a city being closed to the public?) New Orleans is still a nightmare all its own, but we’re for now just trying to focus on feeding the displaced refugees who’re stranded in our city.

We had a family from Harahan (area of new Orleans) at prayer meeting tonight at church. This family is living in a hotel in our town. They don’t know yet what the condition of their house is, or if they still have a house. But they are safe, they have heard from a few friends, and their faith and good spirits were amazing.

Meanwhile, Vision Lady finally got through and talked to her parents. They are safe, but their congregation has suffered much. At least one family lost absolutely everything. Two more families have homes so badly damaged, they’re not sure yet if anything’s salvageable. These people probably work in New Orleans, so they may be without jobs for awhile. But in all of this, you’re reminded that it’s just people who matter. Things can be replaced, people can’t. If at the end of the day you know where everybody you love is, that’s all that matters.

Another common sight in any parking lot in south Louisiana: convoys of power trucks and tree-clearing equipment.

Tuesday’s Gone with the Wind

Hope everyone had a good Labor Day. For me it was truly a labor day as our company asked us to work to make up for lost time during the hurricane. C’est la vie. (Translates to “that’s life” for you non-Cajuns.)

Headlines
Could there be more history-changing events in one month? Beyond the changes Katrina has brought to our nation, we now should expect political dispute regarding the Supreme Court. Chief Justice William Rehnquist has died, and now John Roberts, the President’s nominee to replace Sandra Day O’Connor, is advanced up to Chief Justice nominee. One of the hugest factors affecting the whole scenario will be religion. Expect a new round of abortion and same-sex debates as Roberts’ belief system is put under the microscope. Frankly, I’m just glad it’s not an election year.

Dear Diary
As promised, I will now included excerpts from the running journal I kept during Katrina and her aftermath. To set this up, you have to understand that many of us didn’t find out about the storm until late / completely underestimated it / both. I was one such person. I heard about the storm on Fri, Aug 26 while at work in (fittingly) New Orleans. Nobody mentioned how strong it was, and all I knew was that New Orleans was just one of the projected paths. So I left town with some friends from church for an overnight canoe trip in rural Mississippi. We were in our own fun little vacation world completely removed from hurricane paranoia and didn’t think it was that big of a deal. That abruptly ended Saturday evening on the way home, when we finally got cell service. Four “where are you and why didn’t you tell us you were leaving town in the middle of a hurricane” voicemails from my parents later, I realized the storm wasn’t going to do the typical Florida turn as they all have the last year or two.

I spent the next 24 hours washing everything in sight, getting cash and gas, and packing for a business trip to Dallas. I caught one of the last flights out of Baton Rouge, and left convinced all would be fine. The diary below picks up exactly a week ago -- Tuesday Sept 30, when I got back home.

Tues, Aug 30, 10:30 pm.
I’m trying to go to sleep, but it’s hard to put aside the horrific images of looting in the streets of New Orleans and rescued victims in pitiful health. Even as I write this, one of my closest friends [hereafter known as Vision Lady] does not know where her family is. Like me, she lives west of the storm, but her family pastors a church in Pearl River—northeast of the storm and exactly in harm’s way. With clogged phone networks and downed power, she has not been able to contact them for three days. I cannot imagine laying down at night and not knowing if my family was safe, and yet that’s the reality for thousands right now.

I’ve said it a hundred times today as it sunk in, and I’ve heard it twice that much: “I just didn’t realize it was going to be this bad.” And we thought we had dodged complete catastrophe when the storm jogged northeast at the last moment and spared a direct hit on New Orleans. But it did hit the eastern side of the city and amidst the destructive winds and unprecedented storm surge, it took out sections of the levee, flooding many parts of the city. As I write this, rescue workers are pulling people from rooftops by helicopters and boats. Shrimpers from rural points south and east of the city have been made deputies with orders to commandeer any boats they can find, hotwire them, and set about the rescue mission. Right now, approximately 3,000 people have been rescued. Only God knows how many still remained trapped on roofs and in attics with the water still rising.

The first attempt to plug the levee breech using helicopters to drop 3000 lb sand bags failed. If the second attempt (plugging the breech with 15,000 lb concrete sections) doesn’t work, the entire city will flood.

I have to admit that today has been a huge wake-up call for me. As my friends and family rode it out, I watched along with the rest of the world remotely from Dallas. It seemed surreal and a long ways away. And with the news that the storm had not directly hit New Orleans, I felt hopeful that the storm was not that bad. Even with some of the images I’d seen on the news, I still had no idea the true level of devastation.

It all became real for me when my Mom finally got through the jammed phone lines. I can take you to the exact spot in DFW airport where she told me that they'd been at the feed store and had heard that a good friend of ours had been killed. The man had been standing by a window in his home surveying the storm when a tree came through the window and killed him. A million emotions hit as I thought of his young family and prayed it wasn’t so. I was boarding the plane and had no option but to ride back to BR in limbo with no idea what was going on, no reason to believe this news was inaccurate. And in those moments praying on the plane, the catastrophe became real to me. I got on the ground and finally got the message that the person killed was another person in the area with the same last name. “Oh, thank God,” I said instinctive, and then went numb with the realization of what I’d just said. Maybe my friend was okay, but somebody else out there was still feeling all of those emotions and coping with loss. It's a horrible thing.

The depth of the disaster was driven home further as I listened to my Governor fight tears in a heart-wrenching public address describing the horrible conditions for the many innocent and helpless people trapped in the city. I arrived home and watched the dramatic rescues as guardsmen and volunteers literally saved lives by the thousands.

It is a desperate thing to watch people plunged suddenly into a catastrophe of this magnitude with such overwhelming need and yet such helpless and fragile means of aid.

All I can think about is Psalms 23. It started coming to mind about a week ago before I ever heard of Katrina. Sunday night when I got to Dallas and my luggage didn’t (I forgive BTR airport because they obviously had a lot to deal with), I was stuck without my Bible. Believe it or not, the Gideons haven’t made it to the Sheraton in Dallas. So I just quoted Psalm 23 over and over in my head. Tonight as I think about people trapped in houses and victimized by the crime, I pray it for them. It’s the line of hope to hold to as we’re haunted by the images of my neighbors losing not just their belongings, but their families.

The Lord is my shepherd… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for that art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Even as far northeast as Baton Rouge, there was lots of wind damage. Downed trees like this big live oak are a common sight.

And Then There Was Duct Tape

Girl Meets World
Greetings fellow duct tape devotees and everyone else in general! Today begins our journey into the wacky world of duct tape, life in Louisiana, current events, and all things fun.

First and Foremost
I salute Wendy for blazing the trail in the Apostolic blogging world. For many of us, “weblogs” were a foreign word before Wendy's Just a Little Bit Odd. Not only did she introduce us to blogging, but she did it in a first-class way. We look forward to more good things to come in the hopes that her newfound time gives way to cutting-edge articles and reviews in true Wendy style.

Boring Stuff About Me
So my name's Lee Ann. I’ve served as the book columnist, which was fun because who knew someone who doesn’t read could write about books? I also had fun with you as the July blogger debating flip flops on the platform and explaining (however covertly) in my expert opinion why I need to engineer and fly the next mission into space.

As I’ve said before, the important thing about me is I like red snow cones, clearance sales, and duct tape. To round out our little “getting to you know you” chat, I've included a picture of me, barefoot at the barn. Now you can put a face with the name as you send me glowing reports about how duct tape saved the day. (hint, hint--send e-mail!)

The Blog
We’re going to laugh at people who do stupid things, chiefly me. Life is all about taking seriously the things that matter, but never taking yourself too seriously. So we’ll explore the world around us and look for new ways to laugh and new questions to think about together. In the middle of it all, we’ll celebrate the greatness that is duct tape.

Why Duct Tape?
Glad you asked. You would have to have a car with “character marks” all the way around it to understand how valuable a good roll of red duct tape is when your sideview mirror and/or front headlight is dangling to appreciate the tape’s intrinsic value. But there’s also something about being able to put things back together that is subliminally reassuring. We’re surrounded by a global society that many think is irreparable. I don’t know about that, but I do know I can duct tape my phone antenna back on after that rascal gets tired of being dropped and finally breaks. Insignificant as this small triumph may seem, it reminds me that there still is hope for fixing things. And that’s why I love duct tape. (Bungee cords and bailing wire run a close second, by the way.)

Now Then...

I had lots of plans to start this blog off with fun things like engineering “creative” meals in the microwave and re-wording famous quotes to reflect the wonders of duct tape. But life had other plans. As mentioned, I live in Louisiana, about 70 miles northeast of New Orleans. The devastation is too much to describe. Within my city of Baton Rouge, power is back up in most areas. However, crime, traffic, communication, and gas are now our biggest challenges. We're facing two hour waits at the pumps--for those stations that acutally have gas. I'm not sure how much is true, but the rumor is there have been carjackings and hostage situations downtown. A co-worker a couple of cubes back spoke to a friend on the local police squad and was advised simply: "buy a gun". And this is just Baton Rouge. These problems plus the devastation are infinitely worse in New Orleans.

We are trying to provide help with relief efforts alongside the great strides made by Compassion Services International. Please keep us in your prayers and follow this link if you'd like to make donations.

Our world here has completely changed--in some ways more so than after 9/11, if that’s possible. So as much as I wanted to be fun Lee Ann, I’m just going to be real with you for awhile and share the sometimes chaos, sometimes beauty that has become life in Louisiana. For the remainder of the week, I’m going to forego a traditional blog and publish instead my journal from the week of Katrina. Next week we’ll move more into what will be a “typical” (if there is such a thing) week of blogging. Thank you for making Duct Tape, Dixie, and Me a part of your day.

A sign posted on debris in a yard near where we delivered relief supplies Saturday. Reads: "Looters will be shot."