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Father’s Day 2008 June 15, 2008

Posted by The Typist in Toulouse Street.
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I browsed onto You Tube to watch this video with one particular father who is not with his children today in mind. I kept it looping in the backround as, after battling with right wing golem Big Dog and his stupid Iowa versus New Orleans nonsense, I found myself this morning finally assembling a lot of Federal Flood pictures I had collected from September 2005 over the audio of Eliza Gilkyson’s Requiem, a small task I had long planned but never done. I will post it later. Going through those photographs is a painful experience. Remembering the dead is a geis I have placed on myself after the Flood, and shouldn’t needlessly impose on others. I was not going to share this video up today. But as I went through those photographs with this song playing in the background I decided I had to post it.

This is for all of the father’s who are among the 4,000 lost, who are not with their families today in New Orleans.

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1. New Orleans News Ladder - June 15, 2008

I am glad that I got out before all those bombers came as it was bad enough without any special effects.
The day after the produce company exploded a few blocks from where sat, lungs still burning from the 300 year old toxic waste dump beneath the produce company, I went walking through the Quarters truly dispirited and quite ready to die. It was there in the Market that I discovered that the old Huey Long era pay phones still worked. Go figure. I tried to imagine that they had a hard-line which stretched under the lake. Their were furtive little knots of people standing around them trying not to draw attention. So I went and got my quarters and called my father in the MS delta. My Louisiana relatives were there. Everyone was there but my brother who lived in BR and was waiting to hear from me. They were all so freaked out that it took a while to get my father onto the phone without anyone listening in and shouting suggestions like:”Go find someone in uniform!” or “Walk over the Bridge!” or “Your going to have to leave that dog!” To all I said, “Yeah right.”
Finally I got my father alone on the line and proceeded to go over my last will and testament. He said No. I said Yes. I told him to cut me out of whatever place I might have in the family will and remember that I tried…as the youngest, to be his son despite everything. I told him that I had probably killed a man the night before with a sword and another one the night before that. I told him that I was going to Hell once I get through the gates here in New Orleans. I told him that America is gone. I told him that the President he voted for has left his son to die on American soil.
This former engineer-turned farmer republican man who fought the Bush/Walker family in WW2 agreed.
I told him I wasn’t going to leave my dog.
He said finally, “Fine. Then Get your Dog and Your Ass and your guitar on the goddamned levee to the highway north and we’ll find you.”
I said OK, I love you Pop.
I did not see him until the following December in Memphis where I finally landed after Rita came.
He had a stroke the following spring.
We can’t talk any more. At least we got everything worked out though, even before the storm. At least I can say that I have no more problems with my old man.
Bruce

I would like it noted that during the last 15 years of his life, after retiring from farming, my father put on his Ramblin’Wreck from Georgia Tech engineering hat and battled the Corps of Engineers over the Sunflower River MS Delta Flood Control Project (The Big Pump) to the point that they allegedly had a picture of him in every cubicle in every office in Vicksburg. They fought the Corps to a standstill in the 90s–and of course, though we know how the Corps will just wait out any opposition to die, it is due to those efforts that that fucking Pump was finally put to bed this year…we hope.
He resonated the American Thing, the Frank Loyd Wright USONIAN creative mind, which showed me what the Corps is Not…a real engineer.

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2. New Orleans News Ladder - June 15, 2008

I reeeeaalllyyy love U2. Thank you very much, Noble Wet Guy.
As big as he is even Bono couldn’t haul my sadness to the dump right now. But he’s trying…and I appreciate it every time that video plays LOUD!

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