Storm recovery continues

Baking soda is in short supply on grocery store shelves across New Orleans. You might think that everyone was baking, but no - their refrigerators stink from whatever was in there when the power went out.

My street is still impassable with a fallen tree. I've got to zigzag across the neighborhood to get in and out. And, of course, there are the usual potholes. At least the downed power lines have been removed.

I see the little cafe has reopened for business. I got my car detailed as a sign to myself that everything is going to be okay. It was quite a job and worth every cent. I took it to a privately owned carwash in Central City, so hopefully, the money will go back into the hands of people in real need. I noticed, sitting alone in the office waiting for my car, that the owner, named Nemo, had a very impressive gun to protect the cashbox. He said he had been on track to be a pro football player until he was injured. He made his team work on my car an extra 20 minutes to get it spic-and-span.

The traffic lights weren't all working a couple of days ago, creating logjams at every intersection. Almost everyone is respectful and careful, however, knowing a terrible collision could result if we don't honor the rules. That means it takes a long time to drive across town. I totally forgot to renew my brake tag, which expired on the last day of August, but I wasn't the only one. I got a break because of the storm and was charged only a $2 late fee instead of $4.

Monday, I helped gut the home of an 80-year-old couple who lived in LaPlace, 45 minutes west of here. LaPlace never flooded before, so residents thought they were safe. The couple had lost their home in New Orleans' Gentilly neighborhood after Katrina. Gentilly had never flooded before either. Folks from a church pulled down sheetrock and ripped out fiberglass insulation. The guys yanked the cabinets out of the walls. The mold was only a little bit nasty with the windows and doors open. By the time we left, the entire household contents were in the yard. I hate to think where it will end up.

We think the city of New Orleans now has levees that work, but the outlying areas don't.

I'd recently read a story about Haiti's earthquake victims. Through all this inconvenience, I couldn't stop thinking about the poor Haitians who get hit almost every time. They can barely rebuild before the next one comes. I guess that's why they practice voodoo.

Post-Isaac recovery process

Congregants at the All Souls Church meeting outside Sunday morning

After several frustrating days, I finally got power back - which means electricity, lights, air-conditioning, phone and Internet. I had out-of-town friends pleading for me to tweet, text, post, e-mail or phone, but could do none. I could hardly move, it was so hot and muggy, and I was having trouble figuring out what I could still eat. Isaac was "only" a Cat 1. I can't imagine Katrina.

I was suffering from a major bout of caffeine withdrawal until I realized the gas stove still worked. I had to go buy one of those Melita one-cup-at-a-time brewing cones from way back when. I threw open the windows and enjoyed the warm breezes off the levee and got a few things accomplished.

Cafe Dauphine

A couple of days after the storm, I hoped to get some errands done Uptown. I figured that neighborhood would be in better shape. But the bank was offline. Tellers came outside to get customers' deposits and give us handwritten deposit slips. I saw the security guard coming back from Walgreens with bags of supplies. Walgreens was sold out of insect repellent given everyone had been sitting outside on their porches to keep cool and getting bitten. Winn-Dixie had no ice. I looked for an Internet cafe, but there were no connections. Home Depot had just a few lights on. I'd hoped to take a shower at the health club, but it was shut down.

The cafe's owner despondent.

I wanted to get out of the house and the dark Saturday night, driving first to the Chalmette movie theater. Not only was it closed, but the entire shopping center was dark. I then went to the Old Mint to see a cabaret, but it wasn't happening. Though lights were on in the French Quarter, they stopped at Esplanade. Frenchmen Street would have been completely dark if it hadn't been for The Spotted Cat where Washboard Chaz and his band were playing and folks lindy-hopping thanks to a generator.

The house is still standing and we're alive. There are many power lines, telephone poles and trees down, blocking roadways, but signs of recovery are already in view. Last night, our local restaurant was giving away grilled food the owners had bought thinking the power might come on earlier. They were planning to drive around the neighborhood and give it away.

But, generally, everybody is okay. We all stop politely at traffic lights that don't work, drink warm beer and eat canned spaghetti while we wait for the electricity and garbage trucks.

I somehow volunteered to clean out a house in LaPlace today - grateful it's theirs and not mine.