Hiatus over (Finally!)

Dear Readers (whoever you are, wherever you are),

I am sorry to have been away for so long. Part of the reason is that Big Man and I were away for 2 long trips this summer (we put over 8,000 miles on our van!), and since this Blog is oriented to tales of life in New Orleans, reporting on our travels didn't seem appropriate. The other part of the reason is that once you get out of the habit of blogging, it's hard to get back into it. (Approach-avoidance, don't you know.) There always seems to be something more pressing to get to first. But with the Katrina Anniversary hard on my heels, I knew I had to get back, and so here I am.

A few observations gleaned from our travels:

Everywhere we went this summer, west and east, during the 100 days of the BP oil spill, as soon as we said we were from New Orleans, people everywhere -- UU and non-UU, service personnel, hotel workers, guests at a B&B near Mount Rushmore, my sister's friends in Minneapolis -- they all acted like somebody had died, and we were the bereaved. "We're so sorry," they would say, sometimes laying a hand sympathetically on our arm or shoulder. Or they would ask us solicitously, "Are you folks OK?" We appreciated their concern, really we did, but it got old. I mean, if you're on vacation, you're trying to get away from everything that's worrying you or making you sad. And what were we supposed to say, "No, we're so NOT OK -- we're bloody sick and tired of being public victims, the nation's designated downtrodden."

And it was especially grating to have folks ask if we could smell the oil, for pete's sake, from our house or from our church or from the French Quarter. No, and we couldn't see it, either. Why do so many people around the country seem to think New Orleans is located right on the Gulf of Mexico? (Although, God forbid, if we keep on losing wetlands, we will eventually be on the damn coast1) I also hated the questions about whether I supported the deep-water drilling moratorium (I don't) and whether I am seeing any effects inside my congregation (I am, believe me, I am), and whether I would feel safe eating Louisiana seafood (geez, like I think either Louisiana or the Feds would allow us to sell our seafood if it wasn't safe -- what good would that do?). Let me just testify -- like almost every other non-allergic, non-vegetarian New Orleanian I know, I am eating Louisiana seafood literally like there was no tomorrow.

Another thing we noticed was how differently people from "away" (those not from New Orleans) think about food. Even relative foodies elsewhere don't think about food the way we do. Few people in other places think it's proper to discuss or reminisce about other meals while you are in the midst of a meal. Folks looked askance at us when we mentioned our ambition to eat as many cheap Maine lobsters as we could on one week's time (gee, not like we were trying to eat 'em all at one sitting!). Being particular about food was seen as strange or quaint, or maybe snobbish. Hot sauce was exotic. That we avoided chain restaurants and fast food while on the road was seen by many people as unnecessarily adding time and miles and expense to our trip (maybe so, but we sure ate better!). Our obsession with good food is one of those thing about New Orleans that I do already know, but these 2 trips really brought it to mind.

Anyway, it was good to get home, heat and humidity notwithstanding.