Are folks nuts or what? Post Katrina

It came as no surprise to me that as the Hurricane Katrina approached, anyone who watched the evening news could see the size of this massive storm.



In August of 1969, the week before Hurricane Camille hit, my father, along with his friends had gone deep-sea fishing in the Gulf. The radio on board the boat went out and the Captain said they would have to go back in, especially with the waters in such turmoil.

Arriving back in Gulfport, they received news of the approaching storm and Dad decided to come home, rather than stay for the "party".

Twenty-four hours later, she hit and hit hard. We all listened as news reports defined the devestation of the coast. The weather here in the Delta did not turn bleak, but we did receive some of the outer bands of the winds and rain.

Some six months later, we returned to the coast to see my cousin and team vye for the state football title in the Annual Shrimp Bowl Classic.

I was so shocked to still see the debris left by the ravages of the storm. Many lots were vacant with the homes still standing, boarded up.

I thought back to how beautiful the coast used to be, and how the old and stately oaks were twisted, knarled and bedraggled.

The old Friendship House restaurant was gone where we ate many a wonderful meal. The little hotel we stayed at was gone, as well as the amusement park across the street on the shore side. Things were different, scarey.

On August 29th, 2005, Katrina moved in very slowly, leaving nothing in its path. I watched at a friend's home in awe and horror as New Orleans flooded, leaving the poor to fend for themselves. There was nothing that could stop this force of nature. Yet the people that were abandoned was more confusing.

The night she came ashore, we had some knowledge of its power and strength as the wind and rain pelted the Delta and much of Mississippi.

The lights went out in the middle of the night and remained off for many days. That first and second night, I couldn't sleep as the house was air-tight and opening the windows was out of the question.

I decided to sleep on the porch. The winds terrified me and all I could do was pray that we remain intact. I had never in all my years known of such force.

Its now the beginning of the 2006 hurricane season. With the forecasters not knowing what will happen, I was again astonished at the lack of concern offered by the giants of commerce building new developments along the coast. Will they never learn?

The insurance industry has announced it vacating the states and leaving all without the needed coverage to rebuild.

News reports daily of activity on the coast and that the largest casino planned re-opening on the anniversary of Katrina. How many more lives will be lost this hurricane season due to greedy corporations filling their pockets with the almighty dollar?

How stupid is that? Will we ever learn?

Purpose

A few days ago I realized that all my cynicism from my meager years of experience was nothing more than a search for what was real and what was fake.

A true dichtomy if there ever was one.

I am a realist! I search for the truth vs. fiction. My opinion matters not, but I seek what is true...not just for me, but what is reality.

With all that balderdash said, this blog was created for the sole purpose of revealing what I perceive to be true.

Its my opinion, to be taken with a grain of salt, if nothing more.

Screw up or screwed up!

I loved my parents.

As I realize now, they were truly tolerant and wonderful. Dad was my hero...and Mom, well, as some women know, we didn't get along. I learned how to push her buttons.

I was always vying for Dad's attention. Daddy's little girl and favoring his side of the family, Mother wanted me to be a "little doll". Wouldn't you know, I was a tomboy. Mother couldn't keep me clean enough.

On an Easter Sunday, I was dressed in a special red velvet and white laced dress. While Mom and Dad were getting ready, I went into the kitchen and got out my favorite food, a stick of butter and jar of mayonaise and began "creaming" (cleaning) my face, which got all over me, the dress, the kitchen table, floor, you name it, it was on it. It was probably one of the first "Hansard Fits" that I remember my Mother throwing.

I ruined her Easter. Kind of like telling the world "there is no Santa Claus"!

As I said, it was one of the first screw-ups of my life.

Did my creation make me cynical?

It was my mother's death that gave me insight as to how I got here in the first place.

It seems that when Dad came home from Korea, Mother went to meet the train in Mobile and since they hadn't seen one another for some time, they engaged in intercourse...without a condom. Yes, they had condoms in 1952.

Nine months later, you guessed it, I was born.

Mom and Dad had been married for seven years when I came along. As I was the first and the last, I was ruined as an only child. The first grand-daughter on my father's side didn't help either. So much was expected of me, little did I realize that when Mother enrolled me in ballet lessons, that my Aunt Hazel would throw a fit. Simply, a Southern Baptist, had high moral standards and she told them, "Frankly, you are condemning her to hell!"

Getting here wasn't a walk in the park. Mom was a slender anemic woman who was sickly. First, she contracted food poisoning from bad chicken salad. Then she was bitten by a scorpion...Dad was stationed in Fort Hood, Texas and the night I was born, the doctors asked Dad which he wanted.

Since was a Frank Breach birth with the umbilical cord wrapped around my throat coming out foot first as the other foot was caught up in the womb, it wasn't an easy delivery. After my treacherous arrival, I had a club foot which they discussed my having to wear a brace to straighten it. Fortunately, and by the grace of God, I was healthy and never had to wear the brace.

Ok, enough of the arrival. Although the foot straightened out by itself, many times during my childhood I made it my goal in life to walk a crooked path, thereby screwing with my parents lives and mine.

Defined as is - Cynic

From the internet's Free Dictionary -http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=cynics

Latin cynicus, Cynic philosopher, from Greek kunikos, from kun, kun-, dog. See kwon- in Indo-European Roots.

Word History: A cynic may be pardoned for thinking that this is a dog's life. The Greek word kunikos, from which cynic comes, was originally an adjective meaning “doglike,” from kun, “dog.” The word was probably applied to the Cynic philosophers because of the nickname kun given to Diogenes of Sinope, the prototypical Cynic. He is reported to have been seen barking in public, urinating on the leg of a table, and masturbating on the street. The first use of the word recorded in English, in a work published from 1547 to 1564, is in the plural for members of this philosophical sect. In 1596 we find the first instance of cynic meaning “faultfinder,” a sense that was to develop into our modern sense. The meaning “faultfinder” came naturally from the behavior of countless Cynics who in their pursuit of virtue pointed out the flaws in others. Such faultfinding could lead quite naturally to the belief associated with cynics of today that selfishness determines human behavior.