Two or three things I know for sure and one of them is that telling the story all the way through is an act of love.*
I get tired of being depressed, I really do. I knew eventually I'd have to blog about it, but I thought I could at least put it off. JazzFest helped, but hey, I've had to face the music...that is, the news that this city really ain't ready for the next storm (thanks, Clay...sigh). The NOLA blogpocheh, in the face of everything else they've been doing, is having to face it, too. Plus, on top of it all, the bloggers' vital engineering fount of info on the pumps is leaving the area.
When it rains around these parts, it pours.
I can tell you anything. All you have to believe is the truth.*
And, ladies and gentlemen, when someone who knows disaster and devastation is stunned by New Orleans' appearance nearly two years after 8-29, well, we as a country ought to be at least shamed into action. (T'anks, erster, you treif thing, you.)