"An Ongoing National Tragedy"

“It became obvious right after Katrina that the destruction of New Orleans was an ongoing national tragedy and probably an American watershed in the history of political cynicism.”

That’s author James Lee Burke in his latest book,“The Tin Roof Blowdown,” speaking in the voice of archetypical Louisiana detective Dave Robicheaux.

Ann Arbor is my home and I love it dearly. But New Orleans is like a lover with whom I’ve had an bittersweet, years-long affair. I try to make a couple visits each year, and my time in the “Big Easy” often leaves me with a hangover of the body, and of the soul. But oh, the times I’ve had and the wonderful people I’ve met before the sobering return to colder climes. Then came the day two years ago, as I sat watching TV coverage of the inundation of New Orleans and I kept saying to myself, “my god, what is happening to my city?”

In the aftermath of Katrina, I was willingly sent by my employer to Louisiana to join relief efforts. Throughout that fall, I spent almost 30 days off-and-on in the state, a virtual permanent house guest of a friend in Baton Rouge. I was lucky to have such a welcoming and comfortable place to stay – most were not so fortunate. I will never forget personally witnessing people sleeping in the beds of their pickup trucks in a parking structure during Hurricane Rita, because the shelter was over-capacity and turning people away. I started out working on a project at a huge shelter in Baton Rouge, and then as residents were relocated my focus shifted to the largest FEMA trailer park in the state, Renaissance Village. This is a MariLynn, a sweet little girl we got to know both at the shelter, and later at Renaissance Village when her family moved to a trailer.

“If disaster strikes another city, the best thing they could do is realize that the government will not do anything for you.”
Denise Thornton, a New Orleans resident quoted in USA TODAY

According to the front-page article in USA TODAY marking the anniversary of Katrina, Denise Thornton is rebuilding her home using her own resources, her own gumption. Unfortunately, two years after the storm and 15 months after I drove through the gates of Renaissance Village for the last time, there are still almost 500 families living in campers at that field and most of them don’t have homes to even think about rebuilding. Across Louisiana, you basically have a condition where the poorest, most vulnerable, most unemployable of New Orleans’ pre-storm population have been transplanted to FEMA trailer parks. City, state, and federal agencies didn’t know how to help these people before the storm, and certainly nothing appears to have changed. And in fact it’s even harder with area housing and unemployment rates through the roof.

Show Me the Money

“The citizens of this country thus far have paid out $114 billion in tax revenues–their money–to help the folks down here.” George W. Bush

Here's New Orleans blogger Maitri Vatul's reaction to President Bush's recent speech at a re-opened school in the city:

“Never mind the blatant lie of the $114 billion payout, did your president just say ‘their money’ to us? Funny, I don’t recall not paying federal taxes to the United States government on moving to Louisiana, and didn’t get a note that a tax discount, much less a reprieve, was proffered to Louisianans for being storm/flood victims. No, we paid our taxes like all good Americans. Therefore, a portion of that $114 billion is mine, and horrifyingly enough, that of the thousands who died here during the storm and the subsequent flood because the federal money promised to further shore up the levee system was busy being spent elsewhere. Calling it 'their money' divorces us from the American family.”

Spend some time at Maitri’s blog – she paints a vivid picture of what it’s like to be living, and attempting to rebuild, in New Orleans.

To date, we have spent almost $450 billion on the war in Iraq. But yet, up until May of this year, devastated communities in Louisiana could not receive the much-ballyhooed federal rebuilding dollars unless they could put up 10% in matching funds. Incidently, prior to Katrina this "strings attached" approach to federal dollars was never imposed on Florida (I'm not the first to point out that it can't hurt to have a brother in the White House). Not only have people like Denise Thornton had to tap out their 401ks (if they’re lucky enough to have such a reserve, and don’t even get me started regarding insurance companies playing games), but schools, hospitals, libraries, and police and fire departments have been stuck too.

Imagine the still-closed Charity Hospital in downtown New Orleans – if $100 million is needed to repair the damage and reopen, where are the millions in “matching” funds going to come from? In a perennially poor region, none of these agencies or municipalities have that sort of money just sitting in the bank. The citizens of this country have realized that the current administration sold them a bill of goods regarding the Iraq war, and they need to understand that we CONTINUE to be misled when it comes to the commitment to rebuild in New Orleans and the Gulf.

"We keep hearing in the media that billions HAVE been spent," you might interject. As is often the case with our current administration, that's another example of the if-you-say-it-often-enough-it's-the-truth school of public discourse. Billions of federal dollars have been spent, but a small percentage of those dollars have made it to people like Denise Thornton or my friends who had houses in Slidell or New Orleans East. Where has the money gone? First, realize that the largest portion was spent on immediate relief (as pathetic–and tragic–as that was) and cleanup, NOT rebuilding. Now take a moment to Google Halliburton, Bechtel, and Shaw along with the words "Katrina" and "contracts". Then do the same search and insert "Iraq" instead of Katrina. The parallel between profiteering on the war and recovery on the Gulf Coast will make you sick.

Taking Care of Our Own

Discrimination. Poverty. Healthcare. The United States has always struggled with the day-to-day social issues - I'm no political scientist, but I'd speculate it's one of the prices we pay for trying to reach (and recognize) consensus in a republic. But when did we stop being good at taking care of our own citizens in times of crisis? Be they soldiers in Fallujah or grandmothers in Lakeview, Lousiana?

(view Lakeview video clip)

“New Orleans was systematically destroyed and that destruction began in the early 1980s with the deliberate reduction by half of federal funding to the city and the simultaneous introduction of crack cocaine into the welfare projects. The failure to repair the levees before Katrina and the abandonment of tens of thousands of people to their fate in the aftermath have causes that I’ll let others sort out. But in my view the irrevocable fact remains that we saw an American city turned into Baghdad on the southern rim of the United States. If we have a precedent in our history for what happened in New Orleans, it’s lost on me. “
James Lee Burke, "The Tin Roof Blowdown"

A2 Questionnaire: Steve Guttman

(Same 6 Questions, Different Victim)

Steve Guttman, Manager of Top of the Park and the Ann Arbor Ice Cube

Steve, what’s your favorite dish to cook?
Noodles with alfredo sauce, sundried tomatoes, sausage & asparagus.

It’s Friday night and you’re exhausted – what do you do for dinner?
I barbeque burgers. The best BBQ sauce is Scott's Pig Roast honey mustard sauce (I order it by the case! I am getting old).

It’s Saturday night and you’re ready to go out and have a great time – what do you do?
We go to a hockey game at the Cube, Team USA or a high school game.

What’s your favorite restaurant (besides Zingerman’s!) to take out-of-town guests?
Red Hot Lovers! Chili cheese fries!

What do you love about Ann Arbor that you think is unique among other cities?
You are exposed to most everything, and all types of people. You do not have to worry of going off to college never really knowing a black person or a Jewish person like with less diverse communities.

Last question – if you were to write a Blues song about living in Ann Arbor, what would the title be?
The “So Little Time, So Much To Do” Blues

ANOTHER Politcally Tinged "Whoo Hoo"

Attorney General Alberto Gonzales has resigned. Let me hear an "amen"!

Liberal Do-Gooders Whoop It Up

Having waited out a storm system that brought an inch of rain and six possible tornado touchdowns to southeastern Michigan, I arrived a little late for the ACLU membership party at the home of Roger Kerson and Robin Kaplan.

Adding my shoes to the pile (no Pradas visible, so I’ve been wracking my brain for an analogy to the Republican “plain cloth coat” chesnut, but coming up empty – email me if you’ve got something), I entered just as the Michigan chapter’s Legal Director, Mike Steinberg, was finishing. He must have been speaking for a while in the 90 degree-plus-heat, cause Membership Director Mary Bejian piped up “why don’t you talk about affirmative action then be done?”

So Mike gave an overview of how the ACLU continues to address the ramifications of the passage of Proposal 2. Because the proposal passed when the admissions process for fall 2006 was already complete, he pointed out that the U of M didn’t see a huge dip in minority admissions since the year was “front loaded.” We can expect to see the downward trend starting this fall.

Agenda out of the way, folks got down to the serious business of socializing. I’ve still got the whole Karl Rove thing on my mind – I asked Dave Devarti why there weren’t any “Karl Rove Resigned” parties in town, and he informed me that there were. I guess I just wasn’t on the guest list! So I posed the following question to several guests, “If you could send a goodbye, don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out gift or message to Karl Rove, what would it be?”

Mike Steinberg: “A gay pride pin.”
Jim Sullivan: “The gift I would send would be ticking.”

Melissa Combs: “A wet towel and a pitcher of water.”
Mary Bejian: “An orange jumpsuit and a one-way ticket to Guantanamo.”
Roger Kerson: “I’d tell him that Bush isn’t as dumb as he looks and you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Doug Cowherd: “I’d write him a note that says ‘please don’t go,’ at least not until after the election. Karl Rove is the best thing to ever happen to the Sierra Club.”
Gus Teschke: “Have fun in Hell, Your Infernal Highness”

Dave Devarti (receiving a quick salsa lesson from Mary): “I’d send him a ferret. And then the ferret could go into his office, get all the good inside dope, then bring it back to me.”

Eileen Spring: “Herpes!”
Paquetta Palmer: “Anything I could think of would be too cruel, and I wouldn’t do that. I don’t believe in an ‘eye for an eye’. I’d show him respect, even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

Meeting Paquetta for the first time was memorable. Mary introduced us, chastising Paquetta for not wearing a name badge. “Well, you know ‘Palmer’ is not my real last name. My African name was probably something much more interesting,” she told me. “Do you mean that Palmer is just the name on some big house in the South somewhere?’ I asked. “Yeah, you white people and your names – what do they mean?” Stumped, I replied “well, you know that Bakers bake, and Coopers made barrels. What do you suppose Palmers did?” The look Paquetta gave me basically implied “who let this weird, white girl into the party?”

Not the first time that question has been asked.

August is NOT Dull

You would think that things would quiet down a bit here in the offices of The Brou, as summer winds down and the heat index hits 1 million degrees. But NO!

Thursday found us plowing through registration at Pioneer High School with The Button and about 800 other perspiring, bewildered freshman and their parents. "Mom, you're sweating. That's gross," my beloved daughter observed.

That ordeal behind us, I took my third shower of the day and headed to Vinology for a Chamber of Commerce mixer. Hosted in the basement in the blissfully cool "Bubble Room," enjoyed an hour's worth of conversation, snackies, and wine. "Did you see the person laying on the floor?" asked my friend Connie. "No. What? is it art?" said I, thinking perhaps there was a bit of performance art taking place. "No. Seriously. Someone collapsed." As Connie relayed this, the membership director of the Chamber glided past us in the opposite direction of said collapse, seemingly unconcerned. No EMTs materialized - I've always suspected a cold glass of white wine and a bite of a lovely hors d'oeuvres have remarkable powers to revive.

After an hour at the mixer, I made my way over to Kerrytown and Trunk-a-palooza. Despite the heat, there was a nice crowd. Thad Cockrell, a singer from Nashville, performed and the barbeque and beer taps were fired up. I popped into Everyday Wines to buy a cold bottle and six pack to take to a friend's. "The Trunk people have almost cleaned me out of cold stuff," said owner Mary Campbell as she handed me her last chilled six pack of Arbor Brewing Amber and a nice Italian white. I also noted on the clipboard for classes at Everyday Cook that all the remaining August sessions are sold out - so if you're interested in a class in September, it would be wise to register early.

ACLU Volunteer

“Mandy, I don’t have enough people to staff the booth at OutFest!”

That's the email I received one day from the ACLU’s volunteer coordinator, Mary Bejian. “But one of the reasons I joined the ACLU was to meet eligible men!” I replied in a whiny tone (if emails can have a tone). “We’ll get you a button that says ‘Introduce me to your straight, single brother!’” she promised. Yeah, we’re big on buttons at the ACLU. And bumper stickers, don’t forget bumper stickers.

I staffed the ACLU booth on Non-Profit Row during Art Fair and thoroughly enjoyed myself, so a couple hours at OutFest promised to be easy – preaching to the choir, after all.

Friends asked me if I got into any heated discussions in the booth during Art Fair. Most people just wanted the aforementioned bumper stickers or buttons, but I did get into the weeds with a fundamentalist Christian couple. They spent about 15 minutes enlightening me on the following:
1) Textbooks in the 1800’s included prayer and taught God’s word, and the education system has gone down hill ever since.
2) The publication of Darwin’s “Origin of the Species” in 1859 was a travesty.
3) The founder of the ACLU was a Communist, and the organization has been supporting a secret Communist agenda ever since.
4) And if the ACLU supports the separation of church and state, why doesn’t it “stay out of our religion and let us put the Ten Commandments wherever we please.”
And those are just the "issues" I can remember!

My neighbor and her 11-year-old daughter were standing waiting to talk to me as this diatribe was playing out, and the girl’s eyes just kept getting bigger and bigger. Her mom, on the other hand, was having a hard time containing her merriment at my predicament.

In contrast to that God-fearin’ pair, a quiet retired couple stopped to visit. I gave them the standard spiel about how now, with Constitutional freedoms imperiled right and left, we need an organization like the ACLU more than ever. Both seemed to be nodding with me in agreement, until the lady said “I know what you mean – ever since the Democrats were elected last fall, everything seems to be going wrong.” Her husband (wearing a VFW cap btw) turned and looked at her incredulously. “THAT’S not what she’s talking about!” he said to his wife, exasperated. And they wandered off arguing, forgetting about me entirely.

And then of course, there were the oddballs. One woman stood quietly studying the brochures when she noticed my ring. Without so much as a hello or howdy do, she pointed at it and blurted “Is that a cubic zirconia?” “Um, no,” was my eloquent reply. As she wandered off I turned to Susan Fecteau (above), “did that woman really just ask me if my ring was fake?” Susan just shrugged her shoulders. A volunteer veteran, she’s seen and heard it all.

I had not met Susan before Art Fair, but it turned out that we have friends in common. And her daughter shares a relatively uncommon first name with my teenager. Susan and her partner have three children, and while all remain covered by insurance, it was clear that the domestic partner issue is on the minds of many of the folks who stopped by. And obviously this was a big topic of discussion at OutFest - a photo of our table there is pictured at right. Jay Kaplan, seated to the left of volunteer Mike Wenzel, is an attorney on staff with the state chapter and he’s responsible for the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) Project. Michigan is one of only two states where the ACLU advocates at the regional level for the civil rights of that group.

Jay seemed very knowledgeable – perhaps I should have asked him why there were belly dancers at the Fest? But, then again, why not?

Beware! Pepper & Mandy on Bikes!

With both our daughters at band camp, Pepper and I had the chance for a “moms’ night out.” Originally planning to sneak out to see “Knocked Up,” (I didn’t want The Button to know I’ve a taste for such low-brow humor), the gorgeoulicious weather called for a change in strategy.

“Let’s ride our bikes to campus, have a drink and a snacky, and then ride downtown for round two,” I suggested to Pepper. “That’s a most excellent idea!” she replied. I rode over to Pepper’s, and after a few minutes wagging my finger at her because she didn’t want to wear her helmet, we were off.

I’m sure anyone who rides a bike in Ann Arbor knows that campus and downtown are on high ground. I haven’t found a way to avoid the hill going into campus entirely yet, and as we were chugging up Oakland Street Pepper called to me sympathetically, “you know, we can get off and walk if you want.” But I made it up to Hill Street (whoa, maybe that’s the reason for the name!), and THEN we walked our bikes to the best reward for the effort – a quart of sangria at Dominick’s.

Pepper had never been to Dominick’s. Yes, you read that correctly. Settled at table on the back patio, “Pesshtu brd fri man dee. Pessshtu rd,” was announced over the loudspeaker, so I fetched the Pesto Bread we’d ordered. “You can actually understand what they’re saying?” Pepper asked. I explained that the language of Dominick’s takes years, and many mason jars of cheap alcohol, to master.

Pepper announced “I need something to eat besides this bread,” somewhat alarmed in the manner that results from a large glass of sangria on an empty stomach. So back on the bikes, and over to Main Street. Downtown, and particularly the sidewalk tables, was hopping as we wandered down to Vinology.

Have YOU been to Vinology yet?

“Mandy, is this place going to make it?” Pepper wondered as we were seated outdoors. And truly, Vinology is a puzzle. Of the quartet of restaurants that all seemed to open about the same time, targeting an apparently similar demo – Melange, Rush Street, and The Metro are the others – Vinology simply isn’t as busy as it should be. I have to tell you, I love the place. I’m there with clients at least every other week for lunch. They do a sandwich and soup/salad combo that runs only $8, and is beautifully presented. And occasionally when I’m by myself I’ll pop in for a lovely dinner and glass of wine at the bar. I recently had a duck breast, braised in some sort of molasses sauce served with barley risotto, that was easily as good or better than The Earle’s at about $3 less for the entrée.

Pepper and I had lightly fried calamari with green papaya slaw, roasted chick peas, and ricotta gnocchi, all from the appetizer menu. I’m an ardent fan of the gnocchi – they sauté it with big slices of garlic and asparagus, then toss with toasted hazelnuts and beautiful shavings of parmesan. Mmm! And Pepper had a pomegranate martini, and I ordered a glass of a Soave that was just about perfect.

Appetites, thirst, and hunger for people-watching sated, we hopped back on our bikes and coasted down Packard toward home. “Don’t you hear that ‘do di doo di doo doo, do di doo di doo doo” music from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ in your head when you’re riding like this?” Pepper called out. That’s us–two witches pedaling around on a balmy, Ann Arbor night.

Trunk-a-palooza

“I’d love to see the day when we have over 100 trunks!” exclaimed Keith Orr, sweeping his hand back in the direction of the 12 or 15 folks who had backed up their trucks and cars, trunks open, for Trunk-a-palooza in the Market area at Kerrytown.

I heard about Trunk-a-palooza last year, but never had the opportunity to attend. It’s basically a two-hour flea market set up in the Farmers' Market stalls. You back up, pay $20 to participate, and set out as much stuff as your trunk will hold. A portion of the proceeds go to local charities. “Plus, we’re really trying to increase interest and activity in the area on non-Farmers' Market days,” said Orr, co-owner of aut Bar and a member of the Kerrytown District Association.

Easier than a garage sale.

I have some friends who seem to be compulsive garage sale hosters, and the appeal has always been lost on me. Seems like a lot of work to make just a few bucks to add the vacation fund jar. Personally, I’ve always just favored the take-the-junk-to-the-PTO-Thrift-Shop approach. But I like the Trunk-a-palooza concept because it lets you get rid of a few odds and ends for much less work, it’s more social, and plus you’re contributing to charity and the vitality of a great area of town. What’s not to like?

I saw some funky dresses that looked like something my mom would have worn drinking martinis at a hipster pool party, if Mom had been a martini drinker and we had known anyone who had a pool. And this grouping of salt and pepper shakers proved to be my introduction to Keith Orr. “Where did all these shakers come from?” I asked the man standing behind the table. “You haven’t been systematically lifting them from diners across the area?” He responded that they came, legitimately, from a restaurant supply store. “How did you come across a restaurant supply store?” I asked. (what a penetrating intellect) He answered that he owns aut Bar across the street, and had been one of the founders of Trunk-a-palooza.

And thus a blog post is born.

Trunk-a-palooza takes place on the fourth Thursday of every warm-weather month, 5pm-7pm in the Market area at Kerrytown. ALERT! The August 23 Trunk will feature barbeque, beer, and free live music by Whit Hill and the Postcards!

Insert Politically Tinged "Whooo Hooo" Here

I cannot believe it. Finally. Karl Rove has resigned. Now if we could only shove the entire country into the Wayback Machine.

2-Bit Review: Bella Italia

One or two visits. A few hundred words. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

When Marj Schloff, the electrician, noted in her A2 Questionnaire that she likes to go to Bella Italia, I thought to myself, “hmm, maybe it’s time to give that place another chance.” I visited when it first opened in the Colonnade Shopping Center on Eisenhower, but had been so put off by the spartan interior that the food hadn’t really registered. But I learned a long time ago to pay careful heed to food recommendations by people in the trades.

CNN too loud on the TV – just like dinner at my house.

The interior at Bella Italia is still a far cry from fine dining. Their best window is too high to offer a view or light, and the only seating is provided by large booths that march along the wall, across from the pizza assembly counter. And there’s a TV blasting VERY LOUD. I really didn’t want to hear about Hamas gunmen at lunch. But Marj sang the praises of the gnocchi, so I stepped up to the counter ordering the alfredo version, even though $12 for pasta at lunch seemed a bit pricey. But the entrée came with a lovely salad that had a spicy vinaigrette, and hot bread sticks brushed with a bit of pesto. And here’s the thing – the gnocchi were perfect. In fact, while I’m a fan of Argiero’s, I’d say Bella Italia beats them at the gnocchi game, hands down. The only drawback was that there was way too much alfredo sauce in the bowl for my taste – you could have fed a small village in Africa on that quantity of sauce.

As I was paying my bill at the counter, I commented to the Jim, the young owner, that a smaller, less expensive, lunch portion seemed in order for the pasta. He told me they do half-sizes for any of the pasta dishes which come with a red sauce, they’re just not on the menu. Well, for heaven’s sake, put it on the menu! That said, I found both Jim and his fiancé Katie to be awfully friendly and attentive. They bought the business from original owners Giuseppe and Rosa earlier this year.

Having learned from Jim about the lunch-size portions, on my next visit I ordered a half-size of the Penne Arrabiata for $8. Katie asked me how spicy I wanted the sauce, which I thought was a nice touch. And again the entrée was accompanied by that lovely salad and the gut-busting bread sticks. The penne was quite good, just the right amount of heat and fresh tomato flavor, and this time I found the sauce quantity to be not as embarrassingly over the top. Leftovers were taken home to The Button, who normally won’t eat sauce on her pasta. But she loved the Arrabiata.

Despite a less than high-end environment in terms of atmosphere and location, I have to say that Bella Italia serves some damn fine pasta, with a smile.