NTDWL: Irene

Last year, on the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, I decided to re-blog some posts from Displaced, the blog I began in September 2005.  But two posts in, I just couldn't do it anymore. Plowing through those 85 posts from September 2005-September 2007 just hurt too much.  I still haven't been able to make it through all of them without quitting.

And even though I have "come out" as a blogger, I don't feel comfortable linking to that blog-- it's very raw, and I share a lot of personal stuff and identify a lot of people by name.  Maybe one day, I will clean it up... make it appropriate to share and then share it with my Loueyville readers. Actually, I'd like to do that.

As the sixth anniversary of Katrina approaches, so does Hurricane Irene.  Today I bristled when I saw Irene jokes on Twitter.  I know I am tenderhearted when it comes to hurricanes, but there's just nothing to laugh about with this storm.  Or any serious hurricane.  I hope I am wrong; I hope I am Chicken Little and everyone laughs at me after the fact for being so concerned.  But I am concerned, and my heart goes out to all who are in Irene's path.

Right now that includes my entire family.

NTDWL: Feeling Rapturous

Nothing to Do With Louisville... really.

All this talk about the Rapture on May 21...

I ain't buying it.  Hooey, I say.

But in case it isn't, Gentle Readers, thanks for reading my blog. For the first time.  For the past four years.

From what I understand, the fundamental Christians behind this May 21 prediction believe that a very select few, 3% of the world population-- all of whom, I assume, believe in "their" God-- will be whisked away to party with Jesus on Saturday.  And by "party with," I mean party sans alcohol, dancing, sex, drugs, rock and roll, and Obamacare.  The rest of us will live another six months or so, plagued by natural disasters, pestilence, riots, and turmoil.  Otherwise known as... your average week in 2011.

Then we all get sent to hell.

I say "the rest of us" because I don't really know any fundamental Christians or people who believe this rapture stuff.

BUT, if there IS a rapture, I believe those who will be raptured will NOT just be those folks who believe in the fundies' God.  If there is a rapture (and therefore a God), I believe that She/He will rapture only the truly, truly Good people in the world.

So, Grandma Lou and Michelle Jones, I will miss you very much come 6:01pm on May 21.  Love you both and God(seeing we know He/She exists at that point)speed on your voyage.

The rest of you? Hope y'all get good drugs for your pestilence.

A Lou PSA: Mamas (& Daddys) Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Useless

Mamas (and Daddies), don't let your babies grow up to be useless...

Apologies to Uncle Willie, of course.

On any given day, I feel like a very capable, strong woman (hear me roar!).  But whenever I'm confronted by anything resembling a "maintenance" issue-- be it with my jalopy or my house, or in this case someone else's house-- I am reduced to a manic pile of quivering stressmeat.

I don't blame being brought up by a single mother; Big Mama Lou has become much more capable than I am over the years.  I blame being brought up being surrounded by so many exceptionally capable men.  My grandfather, Chip, was a plumbing and heating guy, but he was a jack of all trades.  He could woodwork with the best of them, perform car repairs, and fix nigh anything if given the time.  And he raised his four sons (five, if you count my dad, who died when I was a babe) to be equally handy.  I doubt that side of my family has called more than a half dozen repairfolk over the course of the past five decades.

But me, I never learned to change a tire or how to figure out what's wrong with my water heater or how to fix a leaky faucet.  It's all beyond me.  And this lack of basic maintenance skills has (a) caused me grief and (b) cost me a considerable bit of money in my adult life.

So yeah, this tangent is apropos of nothing, really.  I'm just offering a PSA to my readers with kiddos:

If you're not handy, if your partner-- if you have one-- is not handy, and y'all have kids:  apprentice said kids to a handy relative or friend.  Force your babes to learn how to paint a room, how to jump a dead battery, and how to shut off the main waterline to the house.  Find someone who can teach them financial management and how to say "no" to those t-shirt-offering credit card companies on their college campuses.  


And heck, if you're not handy, and you find someone to teach your KIDS to be handy, well maybe then you'll also save yourself a boatload of money on plumbers and painters and mechanics and electricians along the way.


I'm just sayin'... 

NDTWL: In Search Of Computer Advice

Gentle geeks,

I mean Gentle readers,

I was wondering if you could help Mama out with a conundrum.

Do you have a minute? You do? Thanks, you're the best.

Here's the skinny: I just realized today that I am not taking advantage of a fairly significant benefit offered by my Meatspace Workplace. Namely, once every three years the Workplace will loan its employees a rather significant sum of money at 0% interest rate for the express purpose of purchasing a new computer.

Don't get me wrong-- I love Clarabelle, my four year old Gateway laptop. But she has seen four years of very heavy use from a user who, let's face it folks, isn't particularly well-versed in computer maintenance and upkeep. She has her issues.

But I'll be honest; I kind of just want a new computer. And knowing that my Workplace will make it easy for me (the loan will be deducted from 24 paychecks), this "want" has become a "desperate yearning."

So help a sister out, geeks. I mean, "readers." I want a shiny new pretty, but I don't really know where to begin.

The ease of this loan program makes me think that I might want to rejoin the Apple cult. My first two computers back in the 90's were Macs, but I've had a fairly large number of PC's (desktop and laptop) since then.

But this begs the question: Do I want to be a Mac owner only because I want to be one of the "cool kids" or is it really the best choice for me?

Here's what you need to know about my computing life: I spend w-a-a-a-y-y-y-y too much time on the internet. But so it goes. I am not a gamer. I do nothing with design or graphic work (though I would like to at some point). I do watch a lot of my tv and movies on the interwebs through Netflix and Hulu and the like. I have a lot of pictures and music stored on my computer, but it doesn't have to be that way-- pure laziness dictates that. As it is my intention to get back to "real writing" sometime in the very near future, the second most important function of my future laptop (next to being an interwebs machine) will be word processing. I am organizationally challenged, so something with an intuitive filing system is super important.

Other things to consider: If it will be a gigantic pain in the tuchas to make the move from PC to Mac-- and I mean shuffling more than fifteen years of writing from one platform to another-- it ain't worth it to me. Also, the #1 benefit I see to getting a new computer (besides: "pretty, pretty, new!!") is finding one that is lighter than Clarabelle. She's kind of a bear.

I'm not saying money is NO object, but the 24 payments taken straight out of my paycheck lighten the burden significantly, so I'm able to shop beyond my usual means. That's why I could afford to make the move to the more expensive Mac-- as opposed to Clarabelle who was cheapo-- at this time.

Your thoughts? Advice? Please? Do I want to make the move to a Mac laptop? Which one? What's the Mac alternative that would best suit my needs?

Duke it out in the comments or email me at lou [at] loueyville.com. I'll be super grateful and may even name my next computer after you...

I thank you for your support. May the Fourth be with you.

NTDWL: Lou on "Treme" in BlogHer

Just thought I would pass this article along. Megan Smith of BlogHer cited a few short paragraphs about displacement from my "Treme" response.

I've also received a couple of really nice email responses about that post. While I always love to hear from readers, it's especially gratifying when people respond when I get more personal than usual. So thanks.

NDTWL: "Treme" on HBO

While I may be one of Louisville's biggest cheerleaders (self-proclaimed, of course... and truly I'm quite little), I'm still a New Orleanian at the end of the day.

Yesterday, David Simon's "Treme" premiered on HBO, and I have to say-- bless their hearts-- they're getting it right.

The reviews have been overwhelmingly positive, even those posted by the picky locals who are quick to the defense after so many terrible depictions of the Crescent City in films and on TV. (Although tremendously flawed, the quickly canceled "K-Ville" on FOX a few years back was pretty charming, though.)

If you have HBO and you aren't watching "Treme," start. (And if you don't have HBO, I know all you darling inter-nerds know how to find these things less-than-legally online. Not that I'm advocating that. Not that I'm not.) Start because it's good tv. Start because you need to know more about Katrina and Post-Katrina New Orleans. Start because we need to start talking about New Orleans again. It's a goshdamned shame we ever stopped.

Last week, the Southern Republican Leadership Conference met in New Orleans. And you know what Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich and a whole slew of GOP superstars had to say about Katrina? Nothing. Not a peep. Zippo. Nil. Zilch.

Criminal.

I started blogging during my Katrina exile. It's been years since I last looked at that blog. It's called Displaced and is much more personal than this one. But if you're really interested in what it was like to be evacuated during the storm, go back to the earliest entries. (You'll probably learn some juicy tidbits about Mama there, too.)

Honestly, being a Katrina exile is more deeply rooted in my soul than being a cancer survivor. I don't know what that says about me. I don't know what that says about trauma. Roommate and I had it good. Our home was in the 20% of the city that didn't flood. I was still able to keep my job part time. We were in the first wave of evacuees to return home. We were lucky enough not to lose any friends or close acquaintances.

That being said, my ex-husband-- a New Orleans native-- died three years after the storm. A death I most certainly blame on Katrina. A death everyone who knows him blames on Katrina. But I don't want to get into that.

So maybe "Treme" will start the discussion again. The writers don't hide their anger at the government and the lack of aid and understanding the city received. Despite the fact that the opening episode took place just three months after the storm in a torn and broken city, it still made New Orleans look fun and amiable enough to stir some tourism. So maybe "Treme" will send folks down to New Orleans to see for themselves. Either way, it's a good thing.

The most stirring image, for me, in last night's "Treme" was of the interior of a flooded-out house and of a living-room ceiling fan whose blades had wilted into a tulip. The picture above was taken on October 5, 2005, the day we returned to New Orleans. My apartment did not flood. I was back in six or so weeks. But I came home to this sad little candle, a candle I still have and have somehow been able to preserve in just this state. It's become a badge, of sorts, of my exile.

Anyway. "Treme." Watch it. If not for political/social reasons, then because it's good watching. And because the music rocks. As the Steve Zahn (who lives in Lexington, btw) character says, "America needs more Kermit Ruffins."

NTDWL: All in the Family

It is rare that you come across a person who is truly remarkable and perfect and talented in just about every way. And hey, who are we kidding? It's even rarer to come across a person like that and not want to (secretly, selfishly, jealously) kick them in the shins. (Gosh, I'm a jerk!)

Not to brag or anything: I happen to not only know such a rare bird, but I'm related to her!

My favorite person in the world just joined the blogosphere. If you love excellent food, great writing, and beautiful photography, you absolutely need to subscribe to my cousin's blog. My Kitchen Windowsill is brand spanking new and already a work of art. Beth is a rare bird indeed. I'm so excited to see how this blog unfolds.

That being said, I have a very talented and creative family-- wacky though they may be. There's a third Bloggin' Cousin online, and his habit/hobby landed him a feature spot on the awesome, geeky, gaming website The Escapist. The third Bloggin' Cousin is MOVIEBOB whose "Escape to the Movies" videoblogs are hilarious, intelligent, and infused with a really rich knowledge of film history (and often feature NSFW language, be warned!). I'm constantly impressed by his work. He also reviews video games and writes written "Intermission" blogs between video posts.

We are a chatty family. Thanks to our respective folks for encouraging our voices!

TDWL: Michael C. Hall & Hodgkins

UPDATE: As Linda mentions in the comments below, this is actually NOT a NTDWL post, it's totally a TDWL post. Michael C. Hall has been married for a year to his co-star, Jennifer Carpenter, who is a Louisville native and a Sacred Heart graduate. (And my favorite character on Dexter). I totally forgot that I too have heard rumors of the couple hanging out together around town. Anyone know if there is truth to the rumor that they own a house on Cherokee? I'm so happy that this reminder allows me to blog about Dexter and Hall to my heart's content. Thanks, Linda!

So, one of my better Christmas gifts this year was Season 3 of "Dexter." Roommate (he's on Twitter now @etammooR) gave it to me because we just started watching Season 1 before Christmas. 2010 has been a very Dexter year. We're through Season 2 (after every episode in Season 2, we said, "How the HELL is he going to get out of this one??" You've got to love a show that makes you ask that EVERY episode.). But Roommate is out of town, so Season 3 is burning a hole in my coffee table (and my mind). Hurry up and get home, Roommate. We've got some serial killer to follow.

Anyway, y'all know me. I'm cancer girl. Had cancer... blah blah blah... doing much better now... blah blah blah. But this week Michael C. Hall announced that he had Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Hall is the actor who plays Dexter and who played David Fisher in what is probably my favorite TV show of all time, "Six Feet Under." And tonight, Hall took home a Golden Globe for "Dexter" Season 4. He appeared at the ceremony in a wacky black stocking cap, looking rather... sickly, honestly.

I know this is a local blog. So pop culture news is not apropos. But, as a breast cancer survivor, I hear a lot of criticism about the fact that the Pink Cause has raised SO much money, but so little progress has been made. Hell, sometimes I'm the gal leveling that criticism.

BUT...

My dad was diagnosed with Hodgkin's when he was 17. Massive doses of radiation/chemo bolted him into remission long enough for him to think he was okay, go to college a year late, meet my mom, marry her, and conceive me. But several months into Mama Lou's pregnancy, Dad's remission ended. Doctors said he wouldn't live to see me born. But he did. I was, in fact, born on his birthday.

And he died when he was 27, when I was 3. Of Hodgkin's.

Doctors said, when he was 17 and again when he was 24, that he had a single-digit chance of living five years.

But now, Michael C. Hall's chance of surviving Hodgkin's is 90% or higher.

I need to say that again, just for myself. Hodgkin's survival rate now is 90% or higher.

Back when Dad was diagnosed, it was single digits percent. They didn't even put a number on it because the words "single digits" were dire enough.

So... I'm just saying. I get pissed off about the pink Snuggies too. I do. But I totally benefited from all the cancer research that has been done over the years. My breast cancer was not the same breast cancer that the previous generation had.

And my dad's death sentence is, for Michael C. Hall, just... not... anymore.

If my poor dear dad's cancer hadn't reared it's awful head back in the 60's and 70's, but had managed to hang innocuous til the 80's and 90's, it's quite possible that I'd still have a dad.

Anyway, seeing Michael C. Hall on the Golden Globes tonight stirred all kinds of porridge inside me. Good luck and best wishes Dexter/David. I am, indeed, a huge fan. And I'm hoping you'll end up being the "face" of "how far we've come" because of cancer research. Single digits to 90% in 30 years. Thems are good maths.

The Upside of Kayne's Assishness...

... it will be a long time before anyone forgets Taylor Swift's win.

... Taylor Swift's acceptance speech is quoted verbatim ALL OVER the internet (and no one else's is).

And both of those facts are excellent news for Mr. Roman White, my dear friend who also happened to direct Taylor Swift's video.

Here, let me add that acceptance speech to my own little corner of the interwebs:

I would really like to thank Roman White, who directed the video, and Lucas Till for being in it... I would like to thank all the fans on Twitter and MySpace and everyone that came out to my shows this summer. And I would like to thank my little brother's high school for letting us shoot there.

Here's a link to the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AHzIq_n-DQ

(No, this has nothing to do with Louisville.)

NTDWL: Lou's so dope she doesn't have to say how dope she is...

Nothing to Do With Louisville...

Sometimes I just stumble across things that I feel MUST be immortalized in ye olde bloge. And this is one of those things.

Apparently, Kanye West got, well, South Parked by South Park last week re: his mammoth ego.

An excerpt from response on his blog (originally all in caps) (man, I didn't know that KW was such an avid blogger!):

"I actually have been working on my ego though. Having the crazy ego is played out at this point in my life and career ... I just want to be a doper person which starts with me not always telling people how dope I think I am."

Oh Kanye, I feel you. I've been trying to be a doper person for so very long.

Here's a link to the entire post. Happy Friday!

NTDWL: Spreading the (High School) Love

So, there was this boy in high school (don't all good stories start that way?) who totally broke my heart (again, good story material) because when we first started dating we pretty much enjoyed the same social capital (ie. not much) and then he got the starring role in the HS Musical (ah, I see where this is going), and he suddenly became Hot Shit. This was further complicated by the fact that I was as pure as the driven snow (ha. well, not a big Ha. I pretty much was...) and there was a senior girl (we were sophomores) who was willing to do stuff with him that I was unwilling to do...

Yeah, straight out of Gossip Girl, I know.

Bygones.

Through the wonders of Facebook, we have recently reconnected (no apologies or "I was a turd"s forthcoming, yet), and it turns out that High School Sweetheart (one of a couple) is out in California in The Industry. And he's been working on web production called "We All Float On," an "original comedy about two best friends who on the verge of turning 30 [who] decide that they finally have to grow up and become men. 10 years too late, they stumble through every issue that a normal grown person would accomplish with ease, with the awkwardness of freshmen in high school."

Mama will reserve all snarky ironic comments about said description.

It's not Dr. Horrible, but "We All Float On" just released its second episode and, combined, the first two episodes will take you less than 10 minutes to watch. It's pretty much your standard dude humor. But check it out. The production values are awesome, it's beautifully shot, and it has singularly beautiful and catchy opening credits.

Boys.

NTDWL: Sniffles. Grumble. Valentine's Day. Bah!

This is the closest thing that Lou will get to a Valentine today:

From Miss Rosemary Mane.
lot 25 Immueble Dela Paix
Rue 28 Treichville.Abidjan
Cote D'Ivoire.
Email(rosemary_mane2008@cantv.net)

My Dearest one,

My name is Rosemary Mane.

I am 22 years old and an Orphan
After my praying and fasting for God to find me a trustworthy someone who will help me to receive the only money I Inherited from My late Father.

I send you this mail asking for your immediate assistance to help me to receive this money in your hand. The amount ($8.5M)

This money is consealed in a trunk box and deposited in the security company here in abidjan.My late father registered it as family valuables.

Now I want to secure it out and I discussed with Security Company and the company agreed to send the trunk box to any country I want them to send it.
The company said that they will send the trunk box to you through their diplomatic courier service to you.

The company said that it can only take them 3 or 4 days to send the box to your hand if you are ready to receive it.
Please I choose you as my partner to receive the box.

Please accept me and help me to receive the box as soon as possible.
I want you to send me the below details in this email(rosemary_mane2008@cantv.net)

(1)Your name
(2)Your address
(3)Your telephone number
(4)Your fax number
(5)a copy of your id card or pspt.

Please send me this information so that I will submit it to the security company and introduce you officially as my partner. You know that this is an issue of money please keep it very secret until you receive the trunk box in your hand.


Yours sincerely,

Rosemary Mane.

Sniffles. Grumble. Valentine's Day. Bah...

She called me her "Dearest One..."!! Somebunny loves me!! Where's my passport?

Seriously, Happy Dumb Hallmark Holiday to all my coupled readers. I send MY love to ALL of you EVERY day. xo

It's called REALITY tv? Woz on DTWS

I know. I know. I'm NOT a Dancing With The Stars fan, either. (Or an Idol fan. Or a fan of dueling pianos. Sometimes I think you learn more about what I don't like from Loueyville than what I do like. Am I a Negative Nancy??)

Bear with me. I AM making a Loueyville connection here (sorta).

Apparently tonight, Dancing With the Stars announced their new line-up of... stars (that word is used loosely, I think), and this season includes the coolest guest ever, and Lou's favorite IdeaFestival 2007 speaker: Steve Wozniak, co-founder of Apple. (See... sorta Louisville news)

My first computer was a MacIntosh, but the only Apple thing I own now is my U2 edition video iPod. Still. Lou [hearts] Woz. I can't help it. Loved him at IdeaFestivel. Loved seeing him sometimes when I'd flip through channels and catch him on that Kathy Griffith Bravo show. I'd date him. Heck yes I would. (And not for the money, cynics.)

Anyhoo. I think this is one of the loveliest reality program celebrity choices ever just because I can't, in my WILDEST dreams, imagine Woz doing the mambo. You bet I'll be YouTubing it after the fact.

What? You thought this would make me want to watch? Silly.

NTDWL: Super Bowl Commercial Peeve & Bonnaroo 09

I know, I know, this has nothing to do with Louisville. But my other two time-wasting hobbies are the general consumption of pop culture and reading Louisville, pop culture, feminist, and liberal blogs. So, of course I tuned in to much of the Superbowl, only to watch the commercials and BRUUUUUUCE! (Who by the way is headlining Bonnaroo 2009, more on that in a sec.) And, of course, like a good feminist, I was fracking disgusted by ads that showed dudes biting into chips and chick's clothes flying off. (I won't even touch the Danica Patrick ads-- what a waste of a potentially awesome role model for the young girls in NASCAR families.) And of course, I read all the blogs decrying said ads.

But I haven't seen one blog or article discuss the ticked me off the most-- because it was the most "innocent." WTF was up with the Bridgestone Mr. Potato Head ad?? You know, the one where Mr. Potato Head drives and Mrs. Potato Head nags and bitches and yap, yap, yaps until.... they hit a pothole and her mouth pops off! And suddenly all is right in the world.

Ugh. It still makes my blood boil...

... But on Superbowl night, said boiling blood was soooooothed by the sweet sweet sounds of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, who, as I said, will be headlining Bonnaroo 09. Artists announced today include Nine Inch Nails, Wilco, David Byrne, Al Green (!!!), Elvis Costello, Allen Toussaint (and we can only hope a performance by Elvis AND Allen who recorded and toured together after Katrina), and many, many, many bands to make the indie crowd go all gooey including the Decemberists, Animal Collective, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Ting Tings, and Bon Iver. (I give 'em all a [animal] collective shrug... Bonnaroo's as good a time as any to give them all a little check-out). Anyway... Lucinda Williams, Neko Case, Jenny Lewis, Erykah Badu... some serious chick power at this 'Roo.

Mama is so there. Maybe this time, she'll remember it.

Nothing to Do With Louisville: Do the Obama!

I know, I know... there's absolutely NO reason for me to post this video to Loueyville.com, but we DO have a new president today, and he IS pretty fantastic. And this CNN mash up Obama getting down (and boogie-oogie-oogying) on Inauguration Night made me SMILE almost as much as watching the Former Occupant get on that helicopter and fly away. Two reasons:

(1) I just love that he did "the Bump" with that lady. The Bump gives me all kinds of warm fuzzies and reminds me of weddings from the 1970's.

and

(2) I think we can say for certain that there is an "Obama Dance" and it is basically "Shake your fists up around your shoulder and step-touch, step-touch, step-touch while wiggling your butt." It's kinda white-guy-ish, but nowhere near as embarrassing as Bush's "Flail Dance."

Nothing to do with Looueyville #1: GO SOX!!

Welcome to a new series here at Loueyville.com-- the Nothing to Do With Loueyville (NTDWL) post, featuring stuff Lou just can't keep under her Derby Bonnet.

When the Red Sox won the Series in 2004, my four uncles went to my grandfather's grave the next day and adorned it with a commemorative T-shirt, cap, issue of the Boston Globe, and most memorably a note that just said: "They finally did it, Dad!"

Go Sox!

By the way, Lou has been on vacation... sorry for the radio silence.