Anyone going to All Points West Festival in New York this Saturday to see the likes of The Roots, Kings of Leon or Radiohead? I'll be there and would like to see any and all Killoggers who are attending. I know the bands aren't as "alt" as some people's tastes dictate. There will be no hairy mustache dudes in spandex sticking microphones up their asses, but, hey, it should be fun nonetheless.
My cellphone number is in the Rec Room. Hit a Bibbly up!!!!!!!
Bibbly will be in New York from tomorrow December 28 through January 2. We are going to Rebirth Brass Band at the silly B.B. King's club at 1a.m. on New Year's Eve/Day. Holla at ya boy if any NY killoggs heads want to meet up, drink and sway to the syurpy sounds of The Rebirth.
Everyone, please tune in tonight for the nationally televised rebirth of the Superdome on ESPN Monday Night Football. I know, I know, it is only a football game, but it symbolizes so much more for us down here.
Look for me. I'll be wearing my Mike McKenzie No. 34 jersey and a blue FEMA tarp cape with WHO DAT stenciled on the back! Woot!
I really want to see the premiere of Spike Lee's "When the Levees Broke, a Requiem in Four Acts," tonight, but he, or HBO rather, decided to broadcast it at the same time as Monday Night Football with the New Orleans Saints taking on the Dallas Cowboys. WTF? Come on man! Making me choose between a much-anticipated documentary on the horrendous destruction of my beloved city of New Orleans and my equally beloved New Orleans Saints on Monday Night (which we almost never get)? Too cruel. Well, I guess I'll have to catch the re-broadcast on HBO because there ain't no way I'm missing Reggie Bush and Deuce run the Cowgirls into utter defeat!
So, I finally made it up to Denver a couple days ago. I kinda overshot my mark, however, and am living up in the mountains just west of the city. I expect I'll return to my more urban lifestyle soon enough. I can only haul my southern ass up and down these mountains so many times a day.
It's really beautiful up here. I've basically spent my last couple of days just driving all around marvelling at the mountains, snow, cliffs, wildlife, bubbling creeks, tunnels and whatnot. I figure I'll just bum around until I feel the need to get a job again. Lets just say that I'm really not feeling that need right now.
Anyway, I'll write more once I can make myself sit in front of a computer for more than a couple minutes at a time! Chow! Be good Killoggs!
Bibbly
P.S. I haven't sighted any hacky sacks or dreadlocks yet. I suppose they haven't woken from hibernation yet. I'm making an excursion to Boulder today to see if I can't smoke the hippies out of their hole.
Sooooo, I am about to be finished Saturday with my test taking to become a member of ye olde Colorado Bar Association. Thus, I will have a few weeks to kick up my feet and take some time for myself for the first time in, like, forever. I've realized that I haven't read a really good book in many many years. Killoggs, I need your help. Please post ONE good, no, great, book that you have read recently to help me on my way. The book can be of any genre, fiction, nonfiction, whatever. I do ask, however, that you refrain from listing a billion books as I am easily confused and won't be able to pick one. Just give me one please. Also, please refrain from listing professional manuals, textbooks or overly specialized texts (that means no books on quantum mathmatics, Nathan). Think leasure, think intellectually stimulating, now GO!
When I think of New Orleans, these sounds jump into my head:
Ultimate Rebirth Brass Band
Rebirth Brass Band
Look-Ka Py Py
The Meters
Rock and Roll Gumbo
Professor Longhair
Where there's Smoke, There's Fire
Buckwheat Zydeco
The Wild Tchoupitoulas
The Wild Tchoupitoulas
What does your city sound like to you? (In five albums or less.) All albums are available on the infernal iTunes for sampling or purchasing. (No, I don't know how to post links, sounds, or any of that other shit.)
It was great seeing everyone over Christmas, including various members of the killoggs army. I met with Kiche, Emily and Rick on Xmas Eve at Cafe Du Monde in Da Quarters. We drank much cafe au lait, made voodoo dolls in the likeness of Milky, Jeff and Meredith and then stomped them into dust.
I randomly ran into Zack for the first time at the Red Star that night. Very cool guy. We exchanged awkward hellos chatted, made voodoo dolls and subsequently stomped them into dust.
I went to Louie's with Nathan and Heather. Much fun. We ran into Talice there. Amazing. We ate, drank coffee, made voodoo dolls and stomped them into dust.
Now I'm at home, waiting out the year until I can shed my skin and begin hating everyone afresh.
So, to register for the Colorado Bar Examination, the Bar Association needs me to list the address of every residence I've had for the past ten years. Seeing as I cannot remember where I lived yesterday, I embarked into the city to gather the various addresses of the numerous places I have lived in New Orleans for the past I don't know how many years. Heres what I discovered.
4 our of the 6 places I went to were destroyed and being gutted.
On my way out, I ran into this. It is a levee they have built ACROSS Airline Highway, a major artery in and out of the city. The nice military guys in the humvee told me it was going to stay there.
And just when I thought I was safe at home on the Northshore, I was attacked by this Hurricane.
I can only imagine the fear in your eyes as the wind whipped you around and around. I can only imagine what it felt like as the water rose and swept you away. I can only hope that the wind and the water which has displaced so many, lifted you into the arms of a child or family who can put you to good use. Maybe you are perched high on a rooftop, watching the city ebb and flow. I'll always remember our time together, wee turtle full o beer. Wee turtle full of hope.
I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana.
We have arrived on your doorstep on short notice and we apologize for that, but we never were much for waiting around for invitations. We're not much on formalities like that.
And we might be staying around your town for a while, enrolling in your schools and looking for jobs, so we wanted to tell you a few things about us. We know you didn't ask for this and neither did we, so we're just going to have to make the best of it.
First of all, we thank you. For your money, your water, your food, your prayers, your boats and buses and the men and women of your National Guards, fire departments, hospitals and everyone else who has come to our rescue.
We're a fiercely proud and independent people, and we don't cotton much to outside interference, but we're not ashamed to accept help when we need it. And right now, we need it.
Just don't get carried away. For instance, once we get around to fishing again, don't try to tell us what kind of lures work best in your waters.
We're not going to listen. We're stubborn that way.
You probably already know that we talk funny and listen to strange music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of your yard.
We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly, we're suspicious of others who don't.
But we'll try not to judge you while we're in your town.
Everybody loves their home, we know that. But we love South Louisiana with a ferocity that borders on the pathological. Sometimes we bury our dead in LSU sweatshirts.
Often we don't make sense. You may wonder why, for instance - if we could only carry one small bag of belongings with us on our journey to your state - why in God's name did we bring a pair of shrimp boots?
We can't really explain that. It is what it is.
You've probably heard that many of us stayed behind. As bad as it is, many of us cannot fathom a life outside of our border, out in that place we call Elsewhere.
The only way you could understand that is if you have been there, and so many of you have. So you realize that when you strip away all the craziness and bars and parades and music and architecture and all that hooey, really, the best thing about where we come from is us.
We are what made this place a national treasure. We're good people. And don't be afraid to ask us how to pronounce our names. It happens all the time.
When you meet us now and you look into our eyes, you will see the saddest story ever told. Our hearts are broken into a thousand pieces.
But don't pity us. We're gonna make it. We're resilient. After all, we've been rooting for the Saints for 35 years. That's got to count for something.
OK, maybe something else you should know is that we make jokes at inappropriate times.
But what the hell.
And one more thing: In our part of the country, we're used to having visitors. It's our way of life.
So when all this is over and we move back home, we will repay to you the hospitality and generosity of spirit you offer to us in this season of our despair.
That is our promise. That is our faith.
From Chris Rose, columnist for the Times Picayune.
