I’m alright, if not a bit on the upset side… many mixed emotions. I can’t watch the news without becoming teary-eyed. Having said that, I’m glued to the news and incoming reports because I keep waiting for good news but none has come yet. It’s all shocking and very surreal.

I have friends who stayed behind and can’t get ahold of them, but they’re probably alright. I don’t know where anyone in my family is except my parents, grandmother, and Aunt Jackie. More than the people aspect, I’m just really bummed that my city, the place I’ve never stopped calling home, is continuing to experience this horror.

At 11:45, The Times-Picayune, the New Orleans newspaper, reported that looters are trying to force their way in to Children’s Hospital. I read earlier of a guy sitting at the corner of St. Charles and Carrolton with a chrome shotgun and red shells trying to ward off looters from the area. I hope he finds his way over there.

All of this is really making me rethink my opinions on outlawing guns. When the police and National Guard can’t respond to such a situation, what should we do? I guess at a hospital they must have some liquid nitrogen laying around… I hope they’re all afflicted with horrible disease from the sewage-infused water they’ve wading through to commit these crimes against their neighbors.

It’s the oddest feeling to see pictures of places, specific places, that I have memories attached to be underwater.

I’ve got friends in Bucktown right along the 17th St. Canal. They’ve obviously lost everything.

Since they haven’t plugged the levee there, water is flowing in to Uptown. I can’t imagine The Wedding Cake House, a place I’ve fantasized of living since I was a kid, beseiged by the 9 feet of water they’re predicting will fill the area. Of course, looters are breaking in to the several mile long avenue of mansions while they still can.

Ernie K. Doe’s Mother-In-Law Lounge is underwater and I can only wonder what Miss Antoinette must be feeling after recently losing her husband and now losing his shrine. I still remember the first time going there and feeling like I was at a family dinner. “You hungry, baby? Let me fix you a plate,” she told me with an eager smile. When the water recedes, I sure hope the murals on the lounge walls of Mr. Ernie and Miss Antionette remain, but I don’t think the old jukebox will ever play his hit song again.

The store my family used to get oyster po-boys at and where I found my first pearl in an oyster is totally gone. Authorities think it was hit by a tornado. The pharmacy my family used my whole life was right behind it.

I saw some pictures of Buras, where Katrina made landfall. The area where the boat launch my family used for our weekend fishing trips, at least that’s what they said the photos were of, is completely unrecognizeable.

I imagine people sitting on their roofs watching dead bodies float by, wondering if they’ll be overtaken by the rising waters, too. For some, this is their second night up there with no food or water.

On the Gulf Coast, a few people have said that all those old, gorgeous homes along Hwy 90 opposite the beach are gone. Every single casinso has suffered severe damage. Beau Rivage was filled with water up to the second floor. Houses that suffered minor damage during Camille have vanished.

I know it’s not true, but there’s this nagging thought that my culture and my history is being washed away and its memory being sullied by the same trash that New Orleans has had dragging at its heels my whole life. The streets are full of Thénardiers right now and it sickens me.

Those same people looting stores, breaking in to people’s houses, and smashing open ATMs are going to be the first in line requesting grants from FEMA. I can’t help but think some of them stayed behind so they could intentionally take advantage of an evacuated city. I say tear gas the fuckers. They’re already shooting officers, one in the forehead, and shooting at each other. Some things never change.

I’ve been helping people on message boards track down info about their neighborhoods all day. The WWL message forum has been going non-stop since Sunday and not many people are patient enough to search through past posts for info, so I’ve been doing it for them. In the meantime, I’ve come across other people asking for info about places important to me and have been able to get some updates as more people sneak past police or their relatives are evacuated and have made contact.

In spite of my disgust over the looting, I’ve been inspired by the community support I’ve been seeing on the Internet. One woman posted a message saying that her mother had been evacuated from a nursing home, but she had no idea where. Within a couple of hours, someone replied with the cell phone number of his brother, a former department head who had been in contact with the nursing home. One woman gave the address of her parent’s house and a reply soon came from the son of a family who lived on the same block sharing information they’d received saying everything was alright there. Another woman wrote of her relief at seeing a photo posted in the Times-Picayune of her daughter being rescued from her home.

The closest person I’ve found to my parent’s house in Mississippi said his mom described the area as looking like a battle zone. They and my grandmother live on the downslope of a 32-acre hill, so they aren’t in any flooding danger.

Like all good Pearl River County residents, they live in trailers. My grandmother’s is older and not anchored as securely as my parents. Since the eye passed over them, I think hers could be really messed up.

My parents have a double-wide made by a company called Palm Harbor that engineers them to resist 130mph hurricane force winds. It’s also anchored 6-8 feet in the ground on all sides every 2.5 feet or so. I’m more secure in thinking that theirs is ok. Quite a few tornados have touched down on their property over the years, but usually on the other side of the hill.

I don’t know what their plans are for going home… I can’t get them on their cell phone. My Aunt Jackie, who lives in Harvey, can’t return for a week, then only for a couple of hours, and then she’s got to leave for at least a month according to the Jeff Parish president.

Right now, my folks are staying with a cousin of my Aunt Jackie and she said they’ve got 32 other people staying at their house right now. Philip and Matt, two Baton Rouge transplant friends of mine in San Francisco, told me their parents have opened their home to rescue workers. We’re lucky to be from good families with big hearts.

More than anything, I wish I could be in a pirogue helping people get to safety or clearing roads of debris so people can return home when the time comes.

WATCH THIS - New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin gives this very detailed, chilling update tonight on WWL 4 via streaming video. A day’s worth of news reports haven’t given as much information as he does in this report.

I posted some pictures of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina at Flickr.

The eye passed directly over where my parents live. They’re safe and sound in Alexandria, which is located in North Louisiana, and my Aunt Jackie’s cousin’s house. They opened up the house to 32 other people and were interviewed on the local news there.

Here’s one of the first images of Chalmette showing a Wal-Mart and Home Depot with just a few feet of their buildings above water.

Miles O’Brien’s stupid hurricane blog is no longer on the CNN home page. It was so lame that I actually complained. It doesn’t look like he’s even updating it anymore.

MSNBC has some spectacular photos on their site.

Here some some tidbits from the news I’ve gathered:

Jefferson Parish’s Chief Administrative Assistant Tim Whitmer said the damage from Hurricane Katrina was almost equally split between the east bank and the West Bank. “We have widespread devastation in the parish,” he said.

From the Jeff Parish President: Residents will probably be allowed back in town in a week, with identification only, but only to get essentials and clothing. You will then be asked to leave and not come back for one month. FEMA numbers to begin assistance process 1-800-621-FEMA or http://www.fema.gov.

At the Danny and Clyde’s at Bellemeade and Belle Chasse Highway, half of the store was gone, he said. “We believe that may have been a tornado.”

Volunteer firefighters on the West Bank helped rescue about 300 people during the day.

Sections of the Interstate 10 twin bridges linking St. Tammany and Orleans parishes over Lake Pontchartrain have been “severely damaged” in both directions, some probably knocked out, Louisiana’s highway boss said. “Probably several dozen segments” of the bridges are “either missing or shoved aside,” said Mark Lambert, a spokesman for the Department of Transportation and Development. The damage appears to be random along the bridges and affects both the eastbound and westbound sides. The span is so jagged it looks like “stairs,” Lambert said.

917,000 households were without power in 23 south Louisiana parishes.

In a city famous for its food, there aren’t many restaurants more beloved than Antoine’s, known the world over for its oysters Rockefeller. But the culinary institution couldn’t escape the cruel whims of Hurricane Katrina, which swept away one of its fourth-floor walls, exposing tables and chairs to the world outside.

ABC 13 in Houston just had LIVE coverage with Wayne Dolcefino in Slidell. They showed the boat that is on the I-10, and he mentioned an overpass on the I-10 twin span that has shifted 4 feet. The area between the lake and Old Spanish Trail is a large flood plain with water up to 6ft deep in some area. The Home Depot on Airport Rd. took in 6ft of water.

Federal Emergency Management Agency Director Mike Brown called Katrina one of the worst disasters he has seen, exceeded only by California wildfires. “This is a catastrophic storm,’’ he said. “People will not get back to their homes for several weeks – if not longer.’’

For the latest updates, check out WWL’s blog.

I had another one of those lovely experiences where I get nervous about being the gringo in a crowd of people who don’t speak English and ended up having a lovely time. It was another wedding and, if I were straight, I swear I’d have all the girls.

Enter Denise. At first, she seemed like a bit of a bitch. As I watched from across the table, she maintained a smirk of judgement on her face regardless of what she looked at. I was sitting in the end chair and since the person next to me was involved in the conversation, I just sat looking on for a little while. After the boredom got to me, I made folks move so I could sit in the middle and began talking to Denise.

Denise is a dentist, quite beautiful, and carries herself well. Before she became a doctor, she spent a year working with indigenous peoples and Memonnites in the southern part of Chihuahua. She quickly changed from bitch to fascinating.

This girl has gone to places that you access only by traversing a cable, one for the feet and above for your hands. She told me about all these different groups of indigenous peoples, their clothes, their mannerisms, the differences in their body types. She told me of their hospitality, their simplicity. She’s seemingly been to every remote, backwoodsy area of Chihuahua and a few other places that interest me, most notably Chiapas. We talked non-stop for nearly two hours. Then we danced!

She offered me moments that I relish, when I get to be a gentleman. When she rose to leave the table, I stood up. When she returned, I stood and did the uselessly gentlemanly-like gesture of positioning her chair. When leaving, I offered my arm and walked her to her car.

I fear feminist backlash for saying this, but she was a true lady - strong-willed and intelligent, but… (now I’m having one of those moments which are becoming more frequent when I can’t express myself in English) I dunno… lady-like and encouraging of chivalry. She appreciated all these gestures without making mention of it. The first time she returned to the table and I stood, she simply nodded her head and seated herself.

This fascinates me… not just her actions, but mine. I certainly don’t treat all women this way, but it seems I can sense which women appreciate and sometimes expect these sort of interactions, and I love to indulge them. The weirdest part of all of this to me is that I’m gay, so logic (apparently someone else’s) would seem to make me not really give a shit about gender-based etiquette, especially to a level of formality that’s nearly died out in American culture, gay or straight. What does it all mean?

Enter Martha. Martha is from Los Cabos, has a cute voice, and a great accent. Everything with Martha is “superchida” and the first time I heard the words escape her mouth, I thought “Oh no… fresa girl…” but, surprisingly enough, she ended up being superchida. We came back to my house, and spent a great deal of time speaking of poetry and symbollism.

She’s an avid reader, of which there aren’t many here because small paperback books cost nearly $20 a piece. For comparison, I recently met a special-ed teacher who makes $80 a week.

We went on a clandestine beer run together. When she suggested going for anoter ride to her place to change clothes, I thought she was nuts. She resisted, but I eventually found some clothes that were superchida for her to wear. She told me Cancun was chida, but Los Cabos is superchida. Bjork is superchida, too. Superchida, superchida, superchida. For the record, I’m tan suave AND superchida.

Hurricane Katrina is now a Category 5 storm and I’m worried about New Orleans, my hometown. My parents are headed north to Alexandria with some other family members.

For those who don’t know, New Orleans is below sea level. In some parts, it’s 10ft below sea level. The city sits in a bowl-shaped depression in between the river held back by levees and a lake bigger than Rhode Island. An extensive network of canals and pumps keep us dry.

I talked to another friend last night, when it was still a Category 3, and she said they were going to ride it out. All the reports say that the storm is still increasing in both strength and size and since New Orleans now has mandatory evacuations in place, I sincerely hope the heeded the warnings and have gotten out of there.

Her house survived Hurricanes Betsy and Camille, but as of this writing, Katrina is a more powerful storm than Betsy and at 175mph sustained wins, isn’t too far off from Camille which had 190mph sustained winds. It’s projected path hasn’t moved in 48 hours from being a direct hit on New Orleans. This scenario is the one we always feared growing up. Police and fireman have been given the authorith to commandeer vehicles to aid the evacuation. This is serious shit… not superchida in the least.

Y’all send some good vibes over there and let’s all hope for the best!

I’ve survived another year! Hooray!

Last night I went to Spazio with Miguel, Vanessa, and Alejandro. We saw Iván play and then went over to Chamuco’s. There were far too many people there for a Wednesday night! It was a good time, though. They got me good and drunk and we went for burritos afterwards. All told, it was a good night.

What am I gonna do tonight? To be honest, I really don’t feel like doing much of anything. I thought and wrote a lot today and feel a little lazy now. Besides, all my sunburn is peeling (including my scalp) and that’s kinda gross.

What cultural tidbit can I share today? How about… The Méxican Birthday Song, Las Mañanitas. When you click that link, a MIDI file will play. It’s a bit faster than it’s actually sung, but you can get an idea of the melody.

Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el Rey David.
These are the little mornings that were sung by Kind David

Hoy por ser tu cumpleaños, te las cantamos a ti.
Because today is your birthday, we sing them to you

Despierta, mi bien, despierta! Mira que ya amaneció!
Wake up, my love, wake up! Look, it’s already dawn!

Ya los pajarillos cantan, la luna ya se metió.
The birds are already singing, the moon has already gone

Is there an actual term in English for the moon goes away? There’s sunrise, sunset, the rising of the moon, and… ? My words fail me, but that’s my best translation.

What words of wisdom from my advanced age do I have to share? Here’s a snippet from an email I recently sent to Frank:

I’ve analyzed myself deeply for years and when I started doing it Mexico, I realized that I haven’t really come up with anything new. I know who I am already and I’m aware when I’m changing. I’m not that complex. I’ve spent far too much time in my head and now I want to live. I’m a much happier person when I indulge in things other than myself.

The Latin ideal of living suits me better than the American. I grew up in a culture of joie-de-vivre, then moved to a culture of workaholics and being scheduled in to people’s social lives via palm pilot, and now I’m in the land of pura vida. I don’t feel this outside pressure compelling me to do anything and it makes me want to do more.

Happy birthday to me.

What a great weekend! I took lots of pictures so you can see where I was, who I was with, and how my tan is looking these days.

Highlights of the weekend were a flat tire and spending the three hours waiting for a spare tire collecting cool rocks and meteorite fragments. I got to ride in an 18-wheeler for the first time and nearly fell out twice because of a door that didn’t close securely. I’m not being sarcastic… all good times!

I also got to see Cd. Chihuahua which is a hell of a lot nicer than Juárez. Sadly, there wasn’t anymore room on the camera for pictures, but I’ll get some more on the next trip down that way. There are many colonial-era buildings and I saw more cafés in one block that I’ve located in all of Juárez.

The trip to Los Filtros was great! The water was clean, clear, and a delightful temperature. The surrounding area was also nice. San Francisco de Conchos is a very small, but delightful little village with a lovely central plaza. We went in to town on Saturday night and feasted on delicious tamales being sold by a nice old couple. Thankfully food is cheap, because sunscreen costs around $15. It’s strange to me how some things are so inexpensive while others are more costly than US prices.

Washington Mutual is fucking with me yet again… I went to buy some airtime at the ATM and it kept spitting my card back at me and telling me to phone my financial institution. I came home and looked online at my transaction history, and the three debits are listed, but were immediately credited back. I’ve already written them twice letting them know where I am and for what length of time and to nix any fraud prevention bullshit. This is now the third time I can’t access my money. I hate them. Free checking my ass… I had over $40 of ATM fees the first month I got here. Now, I take out the max each time. Is there any such thing as a good bank?

Speaking of money, thank you to all my loyal friends, family, and readers who I don’t know who have sent me birthday wishes and birthday donations to Help Duckie Fly (should I start a fundraising campaign with that?). August 25th and my 29th year in this life fast approaches!

I’m still not quite sure what I’m going to do on my actual birthday, but it’ll likely end up involving beer and music. Iván and the boys are playing at Habaneros on Thursday, so I might invite folks over there for some dinner and tunes. I seem to have this terminal indifference to my birthday. I’m more in to Thanksgiving and Christmas, but only because they involve cooking and eating mass quantities of food. Perhaps I should usher in a tradition of birthday feasts… once I have an oven.

I ordered a copy of Lonely Planet: Mexico from Amazon.com and have been reading about all these different places and am delighted that I can stay in safe, but substandard motels for between $10-15 dollars in most of the places I want to go. Now I’ve gotta make some money, honey!