A Day or 3 After the Fact

There are 5 pages left in my journal. Usually, that sparks an immediate search for a new one and a generalized anxiety that makes me ready to abandon the last few pages for any new journal. That impulse to run at the end is deep, well-ingrained and often counter-productive. Job annoying? Don't go back. Who gives a fuck about rent or food? Friend shows a never-before-seen strain of narrow-mindedness? Never call back. Run in the opposite direction until the focus is no longer a job or a friend or obligation but my own panting and trying to figure out where the hell I've ended up.

***

Now that the Superdome is open and lovely-fied, the Saints won a game, the nation has seen something in NO that isn't broken, blighted and/or water-stained, it will be nice to refocus on the situations at hand. I'm glad the Saints won, I'm glad the city (right around the Dome) looks good to outsiders, I'm ecstatic folks had a damn good time but can we get back to the business at hand now?

***

Yeah, I voted. The Girl and I had another of our excellent discussions about democracy, voting and voting rights, civil rights, poverty and housing on our way to and from the poll. I love taking her with me to vote.

I haven't seen details on voter turnout yet though a few good amendments passed. What I usually feel like voting in NO and LA is like I've already shit my pants and 5 men have guns to my head telling me to take my time, relax, make the right choice then get ready for my comeuppance--more of the same from the same people to the detriment of the majority. It's not democracy if you have no choices, if your vote doesn't cause at least minor change for the better, if the chance to finally have your say is secreted away (instead of divide and conquer, it's hush-hush and bumrush) then you are told you made your choice now carry it to term for us.