Black humor and frivolous revelry have been the order of the day here for, well, forever really. From the time Bienville and his men stepped foot onto the mud, we have turned away from the mortality that's stalked us as water and disease and critters to carpe what diem we could.
It's not that we don't understand the seriousness of the threats. It's just that, when they do more than threaten but strike, with deadly, crippling blows, there is little we can do but comfort ourselves and one another, set aside a little moment of good food and drink, dear friends and high-spirited song, to cherish what life we are given before it's snatched back.
I don't think I've ever enjoyed a Mardi Gras quite as much as 2006, not even '79 in the police strike, when chaos and misrule really did reign in the streets. The Carnival after the flood was different, not as frenetically free, but gently, lovingly joyous. Every sight of a friend, every snatch of song and bite of food, was relief and release and resurrection.
The same with that year's Jazz Fest. Each reunion at a stage or food booth was a gift greater than gold. I spent half an hour on the verge of tears over plastic bowls of seafood au gratin. With my fucking dentist.
Death has always stalked us here, and none of our cannon shots has ever stopped the fever nor our seawalls the storm. So we dance. For joy and vengeance.
As with other disasters, I am very grateful to this community and, to be truthful, the whole country, for caring so about us. We know. And it means everything to us.
Please forgive me, and us, if we seem blase about this slo-mo horror show that's arriving, this latest in a long line of Horsemen. Please don't misunderstand when you go to the Times-Picayune site and see more stories on the Jazz Fest or the Saints draft than the spill and its effects.
We know what is happening. We know what it means. Again, our livelihoods, our health, our homes are shadowed by our old enemy.
But, as before, we are largely powerless to stop it. We will do what we can, as always, with your generous help, but the enemy will have his coin.
And we will face him with the same, crazy defiance that is our only weapon and solace. It's what we do.
Thank you again for all you do. I've got a show to put on today.