I have been silent on the issue of Katrina simply because I don't have anything to say that everybody else isn't saying. I see the images on TV in the break room, and hear the stories on NPR, and feel guilty for how effectively my mind manages to block it out. I know what I'm looking at, but it's so far removed from anything I've ever had to experience, there is simply no empathy to be found. Sympathy, yes, and I guess I've done my little part to help, and will have to be happy with that.

Louisiana's state and local governments blame Bush and FEMA. Bush and FEMA blame Louisiana. Everybody's got a finger to point, and it's inevitably at somebody else. This makes me so angry I just want to break something. If you want a good rant against Bush, go to The Last Ditch and scroll down. I can't even begin to formulate into words how... I don't know. I simply don't know how to say it.

What really got to me, I cried when I heard about all the animals dying of starvation at the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas. They didn't mention names, but they said two river otters died. Buck and Emma are dead.



Later, I'll post a tribute to the once and future Nola with a re-posting of what photos I scanned from my trip there in October '03.

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On a more positive note, last night I picked up Angela and we did our normal Thursday thing, except that in lieu of a band, they had karaoke dj's there. I've never done karaoke, but have always wanted to. Immediately she wanted us both to go up and sing something, so I picked out The Beatles' "With a Little Help From My Friends". Seemed appropriate, I thought. No idea how we sounded to the audience, but it was a helluva good time up there on stage.

Andy is hooked, and after poring through the books, submits a handful of request slips.

Throughout the evening I sing "People Are Strange", Angela sings "Wonderful Tonight" and "Desperado" with me, I fly solo on Blind Melon's "No Rain" and Spin Doctors' "Two Princes" (which was really fucking fun. I love that song.)

Now I know I can carry a tune in a bucket, but I'm not exactly Mr. Golden Pipes, yet some dude wants me to sing him and his woman a song. Some duet Sheryl Crow did with Kid Rock? Never heard of it. I tell him to pick out something else, and if I know it, I'll get up and dedicate it to them. He's a tad drunk, and I think he forgot about the song because he went back to his table and began fawning over his lady friend for the rest of the night, which was understandable as he was himself probably 40-ish and she was a total milf. Oh well. I appreciate the compliment anyway.

The DJ sings a few songs herself, and she can really wail. She sings an upbeat techno-y song, and Angela wants to go up and dance. In front of everybody we hit what little dance floor they have and really cut it to pieces. I'm sure we both looked like dorks, but if there's one thing I love about Angela, it's that she's so bold and fearless and she makes everyone around her feel the same. She just doesn't care, as long as she's having fun.