Home for Christmas

Hurricane Katrina irrevocably altered my life. For most people in this part of the world the news footage of New Orleans after Katrina was an abstraction at best, and good television at worst. For me it was abject terror, and utter sorrow. Terror because for several days I had absolutely no idea where numerous members of my family were. My brother, two sisters, aunts and uncles, as well as their families, were all missing in action. Phone lines and cell towers were blown away, so for four stress ridden days I barely slept. I worried that one, or all of them, had perished. I scoured all the news channels hoping to see one, or more, of them, while dreading the possibility that I would. Add to this, the pictures of water flooding into my city unabated and you get the sorrow. It was if my entire youth was being washed away. Twenty-eight years of my life, from birth through college and beyond, were spent walking those streets. I loved, laughed, cried and despaired on the streets that just disappeared. My most cherished memories were swept away in the blink of an eye, and the reputation of the city I love above all others was tarnished forever.

I will not dwell on who was at fault for the catastrophe. There's more than enough blame to go around, but I will say I am sick of those who weren't there, telling me what happened. On the Thursday after the levees broke I finally heard from my brother. He had escaped to his in-laws in Mississippi. The next afternoon I loaded my wife and eleven month old daughter into my truck, which I packed to the gills with bottled water, diapers and baby food, and headed for the disaster zone. Twenty-two hard hours later I reached the edge of the wreckage, where I encountered the National Guard and the Red Cross. I gave them the supplies I had loaded, surveyed my world and then, with tears in my eyes, headed for my brother's sanctuary. By this point I had accounted for all the other family members. My sisters were also in Mississippi. My aunts and uncles were in Dallas. Seeing my brother and his family was relieving, but also strange. It had been five years since last we laid eyes on each other, and I am not really sure how long since last we spoke. There was no reason for this; no animus or schism. We had just gone different ways. I spent the better part of the week in West Point, Mississippi, population 1,500, give or take. We didn't really do anything. There wasn't anything to do, not really, and it was more about being close. They had nothing but what they had managed to squeeze into their vehicles before they ran from the storm. Their bank cards didn't even work because their bank had been washed away. To prevent fraud the cards were all cancelled, and new ones couldn't be mailed out. So, I hugged him and we both cried.

Fast forward to December 26th and I was standing at gate C-26 of the Philadelphia Airport. My brother, sister-in-law and 5 year old niece ran into my arms, and, once again, we cried. They spent three days living at my house. We ate out, visited New York, (where we paid our respects at Ground Zero, ice-skated in Central park, ransacked F.A.O. Schwartz, reveled in Times Square and oohed and ahhed at the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree), and finally, saw Philly via horse and carriage. This morning I dropped them off at the airport with tears in my eyes. In the end my family lost several houses, but all the people and pets were present and accounted for. They have all rebounded. Maybe not quite to where they were before Katrina, but they are all still striving. See, that's what I thought was washed away with the flood waters, but it's still there. As my niece walked into the airport she turned, ran back to me, and hugging me said, "Will you come and see us soon Uncle Chris? We can go eat beignets at Cafe du Monde." At that moment I was home for Christmas; home where Christmas means 68 degrees and outdoor seafood boils. So, once again, with tears in my eyes I said, "You just try and stop me." Too much time has been wasted worrying about my state of affairs, and I have new memories that need to be created. So, though there is much work to be done, it is time to do as the motto of New Orleans orders and laissez les bon temps rouler. That is the only thing that will ever bring the city I love back, and the only thing that will ever let me be truly home for Christmas.

the beads

"While it is good that there be a world full of peace, fraternity, justice and honesty, it is even more important that we be in it." That quote is from a letter written by David Ben-Gurion. At the time, Israel was a fledgling country fighting for its very existence. The surrounding Arab nations were aligning against Israel, with the stated intentions of pushing her citizens into the sea. Ben-Gurion was not advocating inhumanities, illegalities, or an absence of compassion, but rather that Israel must exist. Last week, the U.S. congress in two instances, and the press in one, proposed peace, fraternity, justice and honesty, with no regard for our well-being. The euphemistically named"torture bill," sponsored by Senator John McCain, sailed through congress, the Patriot Act was torpedoed, maybe indefinitely, and the The New York Times revealed the existence of a secret program conducted by the ultra-secret NSA. A program designed to catch those who would destroy us.

I recently met Senator McCain. He is witty, sincere and, I am sure, well meaning. What he is not, is an expert on terrorism. Being tortured does not make you an expert on terrorism, any more than having brain surgery makes you an neurosurgeon. Khalid Sheik Muhammad, the alleged mastermind of 9/11, reportedly broke after two and a half minutes of a technique known as water-boarding. Applied correctly, it works. While I am against using torture as a means of coercing confessions from drug dealers, or other reprobates here in the U.S., I have no such qualms with us using these techniques to garner intelligence from the people who murdered 3,000 of my fellow Americans on 9/11. Our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines cannot expect fair treatment from these animals, no matter what our official policy is. Why then should we hamstring our interrogators when torture is already against the law? This is nothing more than a concerted effort by defeatists to force us into a position from which we cannot fight, and McCain has been co-opted into the effort.

The Patriot Act, which has been shown to be effective in combating terrorism, was tabled. This when not one abuse by federal authorities has been reported. You can believe that The Washington Post, The Los Angeles Times and The New York Times would have reported it ad nauseum had it occurred. What has happened is that a handful of local jurisdictions have used it inappropriately to prosecute drug dealers, and the like. In that instance, those jurisdictions should be dealt with harshly, and to the fullest extent of the law. Civil liberties have always been suspended during wartime, and quickly returned when the threat was vanquished. Lincoln did it during the Civil War and FDR, the hero of the Democratic party, did it during WWII. I am not suggesting we make the Patriot Act permanent. I applaud the "sunshine" clause. When the threat is removed so too should the Patriot Act be removed, but not before.

Finally, it was reported that the NSA, an agency so secret that its employees refer to it as No Such Agency or Nobody Says Anything, was revealed to have been tapping the phones of people in the U.S. who were talking to people with known ties to Al-Qaida. Multiple members of congress, both democrat and republican alike, as well as a judge specifically tasked with intelligence oversight knew of the program, had in fact, been consulted both before it began, and every six weeks thereafter. This fact though was curiously omitted from The Times report. No, it was reported as a secret move by the President. Curiously, it was released in time to coincide with the congressional vote on the Patriot Act, as well as the release of a book by a Times reporter. Personally, I do not care one bit what communication mode we tap when it comes to those who have publicly stated over and over again that their entire purpose for existing is our violent demise. Had this program been in effect in August of 2001 Muhammad Atta's calls could have been intercepted, and 9/11 averted. Ask the 9/11 victim's families if they would trade their loved ones lives for the perceived loss of civil liberties by those who are not citizens of this country.

On that clear Tuesday morning in September of 2001 we reacted as one in horror, and then with sadness and rage. We railed against those who had so cowardly attacked us. We were united in a way not seen since the dark days of World War II. We were prepared, as one people, to fight those who had bloodied us so reprehensibly. When we are thus aligned, no country, no organization, no concept even, can defeat us. Militarily we cannot be beaten, but we can lose. Here at home we can lose, and abroad be forced into retreat. The Islamists have repeatedly stated that first they will drive us from Iraq, then the Middle East. Then they will establish a caliphate, an Islamic theocracy that spans the Islamic world, before once again commencing attacks on Europe and us. World domination is their none-too-secret goal and it can only be achieved with our help. Honest critics of our actions are patriots, and have a place in the discussion, defeatists do not. That, is the only choice left.

Thank You America

I dyed my index finger a deep, purplish-blue yesterday. Why I did that will be evident to those of you reading this, but to the overwhelming majority of people I encountered yesterday it was foreign. Most asked how I hurt myself. I dyed my finger in recognition of the birth of democracy. Regardless of what you think about war in general, this war in particular and the hows and whys of our participation, yesterday was a momentous day in history. A new democracy joined the world's ranks. People stood up to be counted. Today's New York Times reported the statements of a 38 year old teacher, Emad Abdul Jabbar, "Before we had a dictator, and now we have freedom, this is democracy. This time, we have a real election, not just the sham elections we had under Saddam, and we Sunnis want to participate in the political process." Lest you think this was an aberration, his quotes were not alone. The very last paragraph quoted a Mr. Saleh, himself critical of the American troops, "they came as liberators, but stayed on as occupiers." When the reporter pressed others on the question of troop withdrawal, most seemed cautious, favoring a gradual drawdown. "Let's have stability, and then the Americans can go home," said Mr. Sattar, a shop owner. When he was told by the reporter that this sounded similar to President Bush's formula for troop withdrawal, he replied: "Then Bush said it correctly." An online video showed long lines of Sunnis literally braving death to vote. As the camera panned across one well-worn Iraqi he stood up a little straighter, put his hand over his heart and said, "Thank you America." Some have told me how cornball that moment is, but to me it perfectly encapsulates what yesterday was all about. Whatever you think about the war, yesterday's events were good and beneficial to us and them. On my lunch break I went to a lunch cart I am in the habit of patronizing. The owner and workers are Pakistanis. The newest worker noticed my dyed finger and, in broken English, with a large smile lighting his features said, "Is good democracy, yes?" Yes my friend. Is good democracy, is good.

Grin Like A Dog

"If you are not in this room, if you are outside those doors tonight, YOU DO NOT FUCKING EXIST!" That statement led off last night's ShineDown concert at the House of Blues in Atlantic City. The front man, Brent Smith, is a terribly brooding, angst-ridden kind of rock star. He also plays crazy a little bit too well. He waxes profoundly between each song on the ills of society. There are no macrocosmic events in Brent's life though. He remembers every slight ever committed against him, and wants nothing more than to get even. If this were purely spoken word it might wear thin, but the bands power chords and edgy, nearly dark lyrics provide the proper backdrop for the show. Think The Doors sans acid, plus bipolar disorder and a healthy dose of obsessive compulsive and you approximate ShineDown. 45 is their Black, with people yelling for it nearly before the band had taken the stage. The stage show has come a long way since I first saw them open for Default at the Stone Pony a couple years ago. Late '70s/ early '80s hard rock band light shows and loud, guitar riffs fill the space between the audience and the band in a way that makes the crowd's energy seem to propel the show. Most of the current song list is entertaining, even good, but without any true staying power. 45 though, has the power to be good twenty years from now, provided the band can manage to keep their synapsi from imploding. All in all, at $20 a ticket you cannot go wrong with a ShineDown performance. The last few times I have seen them Silvertide, of Northeast Philly, has been the preceding band. The boys from the Northeast are enjoying themselves being rock stars, which perfectly balances the "I'm so deep" aspect of ShineDown. Halestorm, a hard rocking band from York, PA, fronted by an ambitious female rocker, who growls and screams better than anybody I've heard lately but Chris Cornell, provided the opening salvo of the evening. After the show I approached Ms Hale and said, "You know my wife doesn't let me date, but when you screamed I fell in love." Leaning in, taking my hand in both hers she looked deeply into my eyes and said, "That's the sweetest thing anybody's ever said to me. I really appreciate that." The band needs a little polish, but get close to their lead singer and you'll be willing to see any bill their on.

War, What Is It Good For?

Gomer Pyle, USMC was televised, in prime time, from 1964 to 1969. Although it was the height of the Vietnam War, no mention of war, or Vietnam, or body counts was ever made. This blog will not be so squeamish when it comes to discussing the news of the day. Okay, so I am a veteran, which will convince some of you that you know exactly where I stand. Well, you would be wrong. I do not believe that Operation Iraqi Freedom was particularly well thought out. The intelligence that sent us there was wrong. That does not mean that President Bush lied, anymore than it means President Clinton or the United Nations lied. What it means is that the intelligence was wrong, period. Saddam bluffed, and lost. He did not have any measurable weapons of mass destruction. That does not mean that the war there has been for naught. Things are not going perfectly, but neither are they going as dismally as the sound bites would have you believe. Today's New York Times published a "State of Iraq Update." On this, the eve of an historic election, in which the previously separatist Sunnis are poised to vote, there is good news. 87% of Iraqi households have fuel, average electrical power is only 3/10 of 1% below prewar levels, unemployment is down to 32%, from a high of 50%, there are 5,000,000 telephone subscribers, from 800,000 prewar subscribers, annual GDP is a statistical match to prewar (and climbing), felony court cases are being prosecuted, the number of registered cars has doubled to 3.1 million, and the suspected number of terrorists is down 2,000 from this time last year; hopefully due to termainal lead poisoning. All this comes courtesy of the Times, you need not believe me. Okay, so people, American men and women, are still dying, and as a soldier that hurts my heart, but the number pales in comparison to the number of Iraqis who are dying. That's the most telling number. The Iraqi government is the most threatening enemy of the terrorists, and that's why bombs explode daily where men and women are standing in line to become soldiers and police. Each day these lines are targeted, dozens, if not hundreds, are killed and yet they line up again the next day. The reason is simple: the average Iraqi wants democracy and self-determination, something we take for granted. That is why our troops leaving immediately would not solve the problem. The bombings would not stop. The Iraqi government is the real target of the terrorists. We are just it's most visible proponent. Millions of Iraqis will go to the poll tomorrow, risking their own lives, to participate in democracy. That's what we are protecting and that's why the war is so important. Civil war in Iraq is not a given. Stability can be attained, if given time. The prediacte for war was faulty, but that does not make the end result any less noble. Eventually the Iraqis will have to provide stability, but they cannot, at this point, do it alone. Success, not just militarily, is within our grasp, within the grasp of the Iraqis, if we can just hold on long enough to give it to them.

the beads

It occurred to me lately that life is too short not to put my thoughts into the air. On a daily basis I rant, and sometimes rave, about life's daily trials and tribulations to anyone who will listen, and some who won't. I have considered myself a writer for as long as I can remember. Not many others have seen the wisdom of this notion though. So, more as a means of shaking my fist at the universe and screaming, "SIR, I EXIST," than a desire to perfect my craft, I have decided to join the 1990s and start my blog. My goal is to put into words my weekly, if not daily feelings on things I deem important. Frequently these thoughts will be, by nature, political. Often they will be social, and, as regularly as possible, they will be purely whimsical. This will be my space, for me, but I truly hope that anyone who reads these thoughts will be, at the least, engaged, if not occasionally outraged. Therefore, the segment I deem the most important will always be "the beads," as in predestination. Hopefully, I will find a way to become better simply by being, and hopefully so too will you.