Farewell my romantic dreams

When I was 16, I spent Christmas with my uncle, aunt and two cousins in Dallas, as well as my sister and grandma. During the two weeks I was there, I got to travel to New Orleans in a huge car that we all jammed into (I think it was something like one of those old-man Buicks or something).

We didn't stay in New Orleans, because my relatives were worried about crime, so every day we'd trek in from Baton Rouge to New Orleans. I remember crossing the rickety bridge and seeing the above-ground graveyards from the freeways.

I remember the French Quarter and how exotic it was to a girl from the Midwest. I remember the heat, the humidity and the jazz. Oh lord, the jazz. Dixieland jazz is the sweetest form of jazz in the world -- you can't not dance, tap your toes or move a little to the beat. I always was a little in love with the city (it was the focus of one of my junior high school reports), but that pretty much sealed the deal.

I remember desperately wanting to taste Cajun food, but being unable to because my uncle is the coupon king and if it didn't have a coupon, we didn't eat there. So we ate at fast-food joints and sub shops. I always vowed that if I went back, I'd be getting some Cajun food. I'd eat po boy's, crawfish etouffee and boudin sausage until I burst.

I must confess, I've always loved a good meal.

I never did go back after those three days. There was New Orleans Take Out here to satisfying my cravings. But the city's always had a fond spot in my romantic heart simply for the atmosphere, romance and old-world beauty.

Now it's underwater. Chaos is erupting in a city that many of us love for its sheer roguish romance. We many never have visited -- save for Anne Rice novels or movies -- but it's always been a city of old-world romance that's whispered to our darker desires. I'm not surprised by the looting, nor am I going to condemn it. I don't know what I'd do in a situation where I had a family to feed, we had no water, no food and no clean diapers. I wouldn't be surprised if I decided to "find," "loot," "liberate," or just take some stuff to survive.

I'm not surprised by the scam artists popping up now to take advantage of people's kind hearts. Which is why I highly recommend that if you donate, donate to folks like the Red Cross (yeah, they're not perfect, but right now, they're the best prepared for this situation), the United Way, Salvation Army or even the Humane Society (there's gotta be a lot of dogs there going, "Where's my mommy?").

What's heartening for me to see is the outpouring of support. So far, the Red Cross has collected more than $25 million for efforts. I also like to think that despite desperate measures and the scummier elements taking advantage of a very bad situation, there's some good in the world.

Which is also why I'd like to take some of that good will and turn it now into rage: What the fuck was Shrub doing cutting FEMA down so they couldn't help pay for levee repairs? What the fuck is our National Guard -- which is supposed to be HERE -- doing in IRAQ? I'd like to take that rage and shove it up our federal government's ass. I'd like to let them know that while people are good and kind and will help out, the government shouldn't expect us all to bail their asses out when they do stupid shit. They're our fucking leaders and they should be held accountable.