Posts Tagged ‘Irish Channel’

I’m not going to get into a whole 5 year hurricane retrospective, but if you’d like one, they’re everywhere. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to commemorate the weekend, but when the neighborhood association decided to build a new Kaboom! playground for the anniversary, that seemed just about perfect. Better to get out, work with neighbors and do some lasting good rather than navel gaze, right?

This build came together much faster than the others we’ve done, because we had this very specific target date that wasn’t very far away. It seems we’re all old hands at this now- we’ve done 3 others in the neighborhood, one also with Marriott, and Kaboom! has this down to a science.

The hotel has been amazing- after things went to hell here, the Marriott family put out the call to their employees around the world and took donations to insure all of their affected employees had the money and the shelter they needed for as long as it took to get back on their feet. When everything was done, many millions of dollars were left in the pot and they’ve been using that money to fund community improvement projects where the employees who received the help do the work while the donations pay for the logistics and materials.

The organizers were out there around 6, with another 275 volunteers arriving at 8 to build a playground from the ground up in one day- not to mention making picnic table & shade structures, fixing & painting everything in sight and more. Plus the neighborhood raised well over our goal and will be able to buy the kids new football uniforms in the fall.

Kaboom!’s founder was there in person, as were Marriott execs, the police chief, City Council president and more, and everybody had the same message: Forward. I couldn’t agree more.

Although it poured for awhile in the afternoon, everybody kept at it, and even that is pretty symbolic, no?

Walking home from getting coffee on Magazine Street, we came across this gorgeous bunch of Wisteria:

The day was grey and threatening rain, which would knock the delicate clusters off, so I grabbed the shot while they were still there.

I will admit to a certain amount of jealousy here- we have the stuff in our backyard, but it’s never really bloomed at all, although it spends the entirety of the warm months trying to reach out and strangle anything it can. I swear I’m going to do a time lapse over the summer to show just how fast the stuff grows. I’m constantly wacking it back, and for a show like this it’d be worth it. Around August I’m always wondering if an execution is in order, I’m so tired of it…but hope springs eternal and I always think “maybe next spring- maybe this will be the year!”

At least now I know where I can go for my spring purple fix.

We had 2.5 inches of rain on Saturday…but no thunder, so the parade rolled!

Actually, there was one bit of thunder- the marcher’s Mass let out less than a minute after the hardest downfall of the day ended- when they opened the doors the cheer was so loud I heard it 5 blocks away.

BTW, just how Irish is this guy?

ALL the Irish. That’s how Irish.

Still, a good time had by all. The Mardi Gras Indians didn’t fare so well- their Super Sunday parade was to be this weekend, but they got rained out. That’s alright- gotta save something for next weekend, right?

I’ve meant to go over and really take a look at these two beautiful structures for a long time, but they’re usually shut tight. On St. Patrick’s Day I got lucky- while the marchers were having Mass at St. Mary’s, St. Alphonsus was open and I got a wander around.

These two massive Catholic churches stand across the street from each other- St. Mary’s built by the Germans in 1845, St. Alphonsus by the Irish in 1848. Originally the explanation was the language barrier, but soon things gained a life of their own and it became a competition between the two ethnicities to make their church the best one in town. *

A slideshow and more info after the jump.

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The St. Patrick’s Day parade was this Saturday, and I’m just now getting around to the photos-but not becuase I got so drunk I couldn’t function.

Seriously! No laughing! I’m mildly embarrassed to say that I didn’t have a single drink the whole day. I didn’t even watch the floats this year. Instead, I functioned as the gang’s facilitator, thus having the title of Uber Goddess very kindly bestowed upon me. (Accent charcter was throwing off some browsers, so I have to be umlaut-less, I’m afraid.)

Hey, you bring a bunch of guys extra beer and beads and their ‘goddess’ standards aren’t as high as they might be, what can I say? There’s no chance of it going to my head, though. I’ve got a 16 year old, remember. I told her about it and she laughed so hard I thought she was going to pee herself.

I volunteered for duty, but hadn’t really considered a few basic things:
1) It was HOT. Low 80s, but it was the first hot one of the season and seemed traumatic.
2) Beads are heavy.
3) Beer is heavier.

It was, of course, a hell of a fun day. Too much was drunk by (almost) everyone concerned, and the guys looked great in their kilts- Charlie’s going to have to get one for next year. At least the kilted ones had a little ventilation going on…lol

Here’s the gang that Chris Horrell has gathered in front of St. Alphonsus’ church before they set out.

Lots more photos after the jump, and also in the main gallery.

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So last week we had the neighborhood party at the house, and I’m just now getting around to editing the pics. It’s an open house, potluck sorta thing, very low key.

We also have a White Elephant ‘gift’ exchange- it’s just an excuse to get rid of some crap somebody gave you that you didn’t want in the first place. Charlie wasn’t going to participate, and people were bitching, so I gave him my prezzie to give, and with some drunken encouragement, I plucked something out of my ‘new,’ adult inventory to give.
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So I just put up another Inappropriate Mardi Gras Bead post, and while insuring the second picture was properly hidden from those with delicate constitutions, I scanned the page briefly.

Among other things we’ve got a murder, a scammy neighbor, and now a frog with an erection. I guess you never know what’s going to catch my attention.

Anywho…

I’ve been recovering from the culmination of the last few weeks- the neighborhood’s second KaBoom! playground build, this one at Soraparu Park in the Channel.

In one day, we took the park from this:

To this:

Without Marriott’s sponsorship it could’ve never been- the actual build was on Friday, and in addition to a big-time bunch of cash, they brought volunteers, breakfast, lunch, drinks, and serious amounts of enthusiasm.

The leaders were there at 6:30, volunteers arrived at 8, and we were doing the ribbon cutting at 1:30. It’s taken me three times as long to recover as the damn thing actually took…and what I primarily did was take photos and co-ordinate. Can you imagine how much I’d be whining is I actually had to work? lol…

More pics here if you’re interested

Murder #164 happened tonight, just outside our house.

Ten shots. Large caliber.

It was one of the most horrific nights of my life, and how selfish is it of my to say that?

After all, he wasn’t my boyfriend- though it was that poor girl’s shrieks that told us the shots had found a target.

And he wasn’t my son- though I’ll never forget his mother’s agonized wail when she found her boy.

But all the same, he was ours. He belonged to all of us in the neighborhood last night. We were there before the police, as he lay dying in front of the church where we hold our neighborhood meetings.

The Reverend came running from his Bible study class, kneeling in the young man’s blood, offering comfort and prayer until he was gone.

And he was gone before the police had even arrived. He stayed there, uncovered in the drizzle, for a long, long time, lying impassively on his side as measurements were taken, evidence collected, interviews held.

In the meantime neighbors gathered, comparing stories. Charlie gathered phone numbers as part of an effort to get a Neighbor Watch program started. I checked on some elderly neighbors, knowing they’d be frightened by wouldn’t step outside after dark.

Gradually, a story emerged. A stupid, goddamned infuriating story.

He was in a fistfight in the neighborhood park. I didn’t hear who got the better of whom, but four teens caught up with the victim and shot him down. There were many witnesses to the original fight, so theoretically it shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out who would be angry enough to go after him.

And so what? Where does that leave us? One dead, four incarcerated- and that’s the best case scenario. (Given our DA’s track record, who can say?) And over…what? Testerone? Ego? Teenage bravado they’ll never have a chance to outgrow?

People here have gotten jaded; it’s easy when your city’s a wreck. There’s a tendency to look at the crime stats and say, “Well, almost all of that is one thug plinking away at another. It doesn’t really have a lot to do with me.”

Normally, I could rattle off a dozen reasons why that ‘reasoning’ drives me bats.

Tonight, though, the only reason I can think of is his mother’s heartbreak.