Down By The River Where It's Warm And Green

I've only seen photos of what Katrina has done to New Orleans, and these photos are just what people have been able to take so far. They say eighty percent of the city is under water. (Of course, I doubt that means completely submerged, but still.) I haven't really been able to see anything on television, thanks to lousy reception in the apartment in the Greater Los Angeles Area where I live.

But I hear of bodies floating in the city's floodwaters.

I hear residents will be allowed back in to get clothing and some essentials, but then the area will be shut off for at least a month.

I must be some kind of crazy that I would still live there if I have a chance. Because I would. I don't know why, and I don't bother to really ask. It's just a feeling... a pull back there. I've never even been in Louisiana that I know of, and yet it feels as though it knows me better than if I'd lived there my whole life.

Sounds like silly romantic musings, brought on by too many hours spent reading Anne Rice, doesn't it? But in truth, I felt this way long before I'd even heard of Anne Rice or Poppy Z. Brite. Before I'd seen the first Bond film I watched in its entirety: Live And Let Die, which took place partly in New Orleans. (A very fictitious and cheesy NOLA, to be sure...)

Honestly, had I not been hired for the job I have now, I would more than likely be one of those Superdome Refugees at this moment. And it may happen in the future... who knows?

Ah, such a random bit of posting...