Mama You Got to Move.

September 1, 2005

The Led Zeppelin tune “When the Levee Breaks”–a song that scared the hell out of me as a twelve year old obsessed with Led Zeppelin IV–is all the more surreal and menacing.

My initial thought, when Katrina was a tropical storm about to brush Miami, was a the player-hater’s notion that I hoped it made the VMAs soggy.
The guys in Galactic have in the past tried to convince me to move to New Orleans. Some of those guys own multiple homes in the Marigny which they’ve fixed up and rent out to people.
Just a couple of days ago I was corresponding on MySpace with a girl named Cree who was telling me where to get Beignets and Cajun food when I came through in a couple weeks for a gig at One-Eyed Jacks.
My cousin Kim, a nurse in Jena, Louisiana, has been sending periodic updates. Katrina didn’t do much to her area, but she tells of thousands of fleeing New Orleansese passing through, looking for food and shelter, streaming into her hospital in search of care. She just heard a rumor at her workplace of another hospital, in New Orleans, being commandeered by an armed mob.