Houston, here we go again

Ay Dios,

Poor Houstonians, open their hearts and homes to Katrina only to have to flee from Rita.

I know my huband and he loves Houston. He is a UH Cougar all the way. I moved there to be with him and got to know the city through his eyes. One thing that surprised me about Houstonians was their attitude. They could be fiercely proud and tough–there was more than one time when I heard people say stuff like “This is Houston baby, get used to it.” Houstonians are known for being the toughest most “ghetto” of all Texans. Texans know this, when somebody askes a person what part of Texas they are from and the person answers “I’m from Houston”, that’s instand respect cuz nobody messes with Houston. Austin is the weird town, or our San Francisco if you will. San Antonio is the sleepy town full of raza and familia. Corpus is our beach town while Dallas is our metropolitan high-society place. The Valley, well most everyone forgets about the Rio Grande Valley unless you have family ties there. Nobody forgets Houston.

And yet, with all it’s so called rudeness, the nicest bosses I have ever had in my professional career have been the directors in oil companies I worked for. Sure I had some rude co-workers, and some mean ones to boot, but I also had the pleasure of getting to work with some of the nicest, most wonderful people I have ever met. I miss them. I hope they are safe.

Seeing what the city might endure makes my heart ache. I worked in several high rises in the Houston downtown area as well as in the Greenway Plaza area and feel like, I don’t know, sadness I suppose. These buildings will most likely sustain major damage from the winds as they are constructed in the “skin and bones” architect style made famous by Ludwig Miles van de Rohe; not to mention one of the building of the Houston Fine Arts museum was designed by the maestro himself.

Let me tell ya, there are many, mant high rises in Houston and they are spread throughout the city not just in the in downtown area. Shell, Exxon, El Paso, Continental, Halliburton, Schlumburger and many others all have their headquarters in Houston. In fact, Houston was just starting to boom again as a lot of the oil companies that left in the oil bust of the 1980’s were moving back to the city.

The tunnel system of stores and shoppes that link the downtown highrises to each other like a never ending umbilical cord will probably be ruined by the flood waters. The new light rail system that I took to work will most likely not do too well either. We lived south of Bellaire in Meyerland on Braes Bayou, I know that our old neighborhood will not survive this without massive flood damage. Meyerland is known for it’s Jewish community and I so enjoyed their celebrations, especially Hannukah. In my apartment complex, the Jewish people proudly put up their Hannukah celebrations up with bright blue lights that at times seemed to outshine their neighbors’ Christmas decorations. I loved it all and I miss it.

I fought my husband’s decisition to move to Houston with everything I had. I even had a saying that I would live anywhere in Texas but Houston. Now I realize how much Houston has become a part of me.

God Speed Houston. My heart is very heavy tonight.

Get Real Dr. Phil

And this little ditty is about Doc Phil, you know the advise guru who is all about being an ADULT and taking responsibility and appropriate behavior. Looks like the Doc needs to listen to his own advice.

According to the NY POST:

So, what’s gotten into America’s lovable, rationalist pop-culture shrink? I do mean Dr. Phil, a man who was unknown before Oprah gave him a forum. Now he is behaving like a Diva Deluxe. Last Friday, the good doctor was to speak at an obesity forum being held by California’s first lady, Maria Shriver. As a condition of his appearance, Phil insisted the governor introduce him. In between, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s calendar filled up and he felt he had to cancel.

Maria had Dr. Phil called, not once but twice, telling him the governor could not introduce him, just in case he wanted to back out. The day of the symposium, she arrived to find Dr. Phil sitting, pouting. He refused to speak. Finally she insisted he talk to her, and he said, “I am not happy.” Maria said she was so sorry but they had called twice to advise him of the change. He stormed, “No one called me.” An aide said nervously, “Yes, Phil, they did!” Dr. Phil was still irate: “No one told me!”

The great analyst of “getting along” continued to huff and puff. Someone said nervously that perhaps the governor could come by after all. Maria said, “No, we are not redoing the governor’s schedule. Phil, I suggest you just leave if you feel this way.” Dr. Phil insisted he had to use the bathroom first. Maria indicated it was down the hall. Dr. Phil said he could not use a public bathroom. Maria said calmly, “Well, that’s the only one we have. Use it or not. Take your camera crew and go.”

After the doctor availed himself of the facilities, he came back sheepishly and said, “I might as well stay now that I am here.” Maria told him he didn’t have to and she advised him, “My 7-year-old doesn’t act the way you do.” When Dr. Phil pled exhaustion from being absorbed in the Katrina rescues, Maria told him, “You’re tired? How do you think those people feel?” So just in case you wonder, this exchange was not leaked by the first lady. Many people experienced this exchange, and it’s the talk of California and TV land.

I used to like him but then I dunno, he and Robin got to me. I admit it, I keep waiting for the proverbial foot to drop. Maybe he will be found with hookers from Hollywood and Vine, or better yet, hookers from Santa Monica. Get Doc Phil in tight leather pants and a pink boa wrapped around his kneck.

Look, I don’t know the man or have anything against him but something about him has always creeped me out a little bit. Maybe it’s his good ol’ Texas boy attitude, or his Texas twang or shit, maybe it’s his bald head. Whatever it is, I do hope this story embarasses him enough to come back to Earth.

Hehe.. I am happy this has gotten out. And way to go Maria for putting him in his place…

I’m goin’ back to Texas

I’m going to Texas for a business trip. Not really wanting to go because my family is nuts and they are going to aggravate the crap out of me.

I’m convinced some of my relatives are sociopaths. My husband knows them and he agrees. I gotta go take care of estate stuff for my deceased sister, meet with lawyers, maybe an accountant and a real estate agent. This stuff was supposed to be done by a relative, but of course, it has not been done. That has not stopped said relative from criticizing me behind my back for not doing what she should have been doing, but well, sociopaths are like that. Oy, Familia.

On a positive note I will get to:

• See the relatives I like
• Spend time with my abandoned fat cat Audrey
• Eat a Whataburger
• maybe eat Chinese food that has more ingredients than soy sauce and garlic
• stock up of foods that are not to be had here in Mexico and smuggle them in.

What kind of foods/items are not found here?

• Jif peanut butter (hubby’s favorite), in greater than 1 cup (for $3) size
• Kit Kat candy bar
• 3-way light bulbs
• coasters (cheap ones anyway)
• granular Splenda (way expensive here and no big bags either, just packets)
• Whole bean Decaf coffee
• Hershey’s chocolate (the unsweetened kind)

We are going to an American store (what I call it) that supposedly carries all types of products from the US later this afternoon. There are loads of other stuff I need to get but that is all I can remember right now. I am taking 2 big suitcases and packing them lightly. Need room for the return contraband.

Where was Condi?

According to Gawker.com, Condi was well….

SHOPPING and enjoying a play while Americans were dying.

Nice.

What about the little guy?

My husband addressed many of my thoughts perfectly so there is no need for me to regurgitate what he has so eloquently penned below. I do however have some thoughts that I must get out or else I feel like my head will explode.

I was born and raised in one of the poorest counties in the United States. A county that is close to the Rio Grande River and the Gulf Coast. We grew up with the threat of hurricanes and knew the drill well. First you tape the windows, fill up the cars with gas, buy the water and groceries then get ready for it. What, evacuate you say? Not an option.

My father was a hard working man who worked well over 40 hours to make sure we had food on the table and clothes on our back. My parents never received public assistance even though we were a large family of 11, and both he and my mother made sure we were good citizens.

We would not have been able to leave because you need money to leave, you need a reliable car to travel and then you need to spend quite a bit of money to buy the tape, the plywood, the nails to secure the only possessions you have. Then after all that, you need money for hotel rooms and food for several days if not weeks.

Had the big one hit, and we were left stranded, should we be judged because we did not evacuate even though we knew better? Should we just accept that we would have no food or water for days and days until FEMA came around to check on the small towns after they got dealing with the big ones? Do citizens who live in small cities matter less than the ones in the big cities? How bad are these areas that that according to the Mayor of New Orleans, those people are being brought into NO for aid? Let me tell you something, it is a totally different animal to be poor in a small rural community than being poor in a large city.

Large cities get all the attention in these natural disasters. I understand why that is–the loss of life is higher, the damage more costly and the recuperation more extensive. I get that. But I must admit that I got a chill down my spine when I heard that almost 1000 miles spread throughout different states had been devastated by Katrina.

Reporters are now talking about the other parishes and the level of destruction found in those areas. I remind myself that parishes are counties with many square miles, not neighborhoods with many square blocks. Counties full of citizens, many of whom had less than the people in New Orleans before this disaster. These people go to New Orleans to find the jobs that are non-existent in their rural town. It is mind boggling when you think about it.

In Houston I worked with many, many Louisianans. I wonder how their families are. These people’s brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers were residents of Louisiana–many from small towns. I grew to adore these people because I recognized the close relationship they had with Texas, especially Houston. They were so much like us and yet so wonderfully different from their accents to their celebrations. They were so full of life, vibrant and always lending a kind word to me and never rude nor abrasive.

How much lost life will be discovered in the next few weeks when the news from these small towns starts to get reported? Yes, the mayor of New Orleans was correct when he said thousands will die, and he was only talking about New Orleans.

Look at the map of the devastation in the gulf coast and imagine tons of small towns with populations between 5 to 25 thousand people that peppers the affected area from Louisiana to Mississippi.

Right now, the people in the bigger areas feel abandoned by the government. They feel forgotten, discarded. Imagine being from small town and knowing that your area is so low on the priority list that not even the reporters are paying you any attention.

Is their hunger not the same, is their thirst not the same, and is their devastation not the same? It took the President 5 days to get to the major areas, 5 days for the National Guard to start arriving to New Orleans. How long is it going to be before the rural areas get help?

Who is looking out for them?