In loving memory of

Robert J. Lampard

March 20, 1943 - March 30, 2005

May the roads rise to meet you

May the wind always be at your back

May the sunshine warm your face

And until we meet again,

May God hold you

in the palm of His hand

Permit me to rant here . . . AGAIN.

I've lost most faith in any governmental entity. It's no longer about being a liberal or conservative, or whether it's local government or federal.

It doesn't freaking work. Period.

I work really hard for my money. I watch my expenses and spend very carefully. I cringe when gas goes up a dime a gallon, and usually end up with a grocery cart full of the store-branded goods. I mend clothes, grow my own vegetables, and do as much as I can to pinch my pennies.

So I am absolutely HORRIFIED whenever I hear of government overspending-as-usual. Since Katrina I have witnessed so damn much of it that it abhors me. After all - it is MY hard-earned dollar they are wasting. And yours. I nearly get why people form anti-income tax societies . . .

So what did the idiots do today to incur my wrath?

After Katrina, a company in Texas offered to PAY New Orleans $100 per flooded car - and they would, at their expense, haul off all the heaps of metal and crush them. It would have contributed about $3 million to our struggling economy.

Instead, our city officials decided to go with the HIGHEST BIDDER in a contract in which we will PAY someone else $1000 per car . . .

What the . . . ???!!!

Oh - explained our mayor - that is the amount that FEMA ultimately decided to pay.

All together now . . .

WHAT THE . . . ???!!!

Add that to blue tarps that cost MORE than permanent roof tiles, FEMA trailors that cost $60,000 each (when you can build a decently constructed dwelling not-on-wheels hurricane-proof accomodation for about $70,000 -- google the Katrina Cottage . . . ) and all of the other unnecessary waste and mismanagement, kickbacks and pocket-lining going on.

We are really suffering here - and the stinking government-on-any-level continues to exhibit just how innept they really are.

$85 billion . . . how much waste?

YOUR tax dollars and MINE. Hardly at work . . .

Moving Day

Moving is exciting. You get to go through all of your stuff and decided what comes to the "new place" and what goes to Goodwill or the dumpster. You get to really take stock in what you have accumulated over a lifetime.

It is amazing what you pack in to boxes! The stuff under your sink - the books you've collected over the years . . . the endless socks and what-not-drawers and pictures and memories and makeup, clothing.

At first, you try to pack it all with great care to label boxes and neatly arrange the contents so that when you unpack the task is somewhat easier. Soon, though - you are tossing things in various places with abandon.

You try to cram as much into your car as you can, renting or hiring a mover for the larger items. When that moving van pulls up in to your new driveway or parking lot - it's time to make decisions! Where to put the sofa? the desk? the TV???

It's always kind of nifty to get to your "new place" and see just where you'll store all that stuff!

Our new neighbors moved in . . .

There was no moving van. There were no boxes neatly labelled or packed with abandon.

There were only a couple of duffle bags . . . two dogs . . . a mom and her daughter. Having lost everything when the levee breached, they brought what they had - all of their wordly possessions.

I used to think that things only tied you down. Less is more - I believed. Less is more . . . less is more . . . yea. Maybe, after all these years of collecting cleaners under the sink . . . and perfumes and makeup I've long since forgotten, books that have gone unread . . . and useless knick-knacks, and what-nots and accent furniture pieces and China we've never used . . . it's just stuff.

And what ties you to a place is not really the stuff at all . . .

The store

What a stroke of LUCK!

I hope.

Whenever I am in the neighborhood (and sometimes even when I'm not) I feel tugged (by the heartstrings?) to check out the happenings at our former, Katrina-devastated business. Today I happened to be in the neighborhood . . .

As usual, I peered in the window seeing the same old stuff. Walls gutted - ceiling tiles pulled. Not a whole lot left of her former self.

Naked.

What made me tug on the back door today, I don't know.

It was unlocked. I let myself in ;~)

There was water, about an inch deep all over the place. I could hear it running. The salon has been gutted too, and sure enough - the water was coming from a valve that I turned off.

Some advice: If you are ever in a position where you need an insurance adjuster over to inspect damages? VIDEO CAMERA.

Our Allstate adjuster? Pardon my French - fucked us.

"Policy limits from what I see! This is just so awful, this damage! Surely you will see all of your general policy AND all of your flood!"

Good thing since our losses total over $113,000, and being underinsured (more advice to my readers - before settling on a policy, take an honest inventory . . . you'd be shocked at what you really are worth) at $31,500 for flood, and $50,000 under our general policy - we would have been OK with policy limits that would have together at least paid off our creditors . . .

Well - see FEMA picks up the flood bill . . . so Allstate (you're in GOOD hands?) shirked their responsibility in the general policy, leaving us to have to prove our own "wind" damage. Our responsibility to show that water came in from above . . . instead of or in addition to from below . . .

So I enter the store today.

There it is. PROOF! Not only are the walls gutted 4 feet from the floor . . . they are also gutted 4 feet and more from the ceiling upward to the ROOF line . . . what remains of the insulation is water logged, covered in black mold . . . and I could SEE where the water came in from above . . .

Had to sport off to purchase a disposi-camera . . . got some damn good pictures. Evidence to our claim . . . good deal. I'm rather optimistic now!!

Still . . .

As I turned to leave . . . the store, merely a skeleton now . . . I hollared a "goodbye" . . . and a "thank you" . . .

In my frequent dreams, it's still there. The accordian player we hired for our Grand Opening plays . . . there are many customers, buying many things, the lights are aglow, my kids watch Toy Story in my office . . .

I thought today as I left - did this really happen after all?

Just can't wrap this head around it some days . . .

"George, you've done ME wrong!" ~ DITTO!

Not the right guy after all
TIMES PICAYUNE - Letters to the Editor

Thursday, March 09, 2006

I remember riding across the Causeway, listening to liberals giving former President Bill Clinton a free ride on lying to the American people about the Monica Lewinsky ordeal. I thought to myself, "Why can't you people admit when your guy has done you wrong?"

Well, so as not to be a hypocrite, I'd like to say my guy has done me wrong, and I'm angry with him over it.

As I listen to Rush and the other talk show hosts give President Bush a free ride on Katrina and now the port deal, that ride across the Causeway comes back to me.

Don't get me wrong. Gov. Kathleen Blanco and Mayor Ray Nagin have shown complete ineptness with their leadership. I've written off their blunders as those of two individuals who are in over their heads.

However, I've always felt that George W. was the right man in the right job to lead our country.

Over the last few days, my trust and admiration for him has wavered considerably.

I've come to realize that being disappointed in my president does not suggest I've abandoned my party. It merely voids me of hypocrisy.

George, you've done me wrong!

Steve Douglas

Covington