Yeah, I’d just like to give a quick shout out to all our neighboring countries who’ve jumped right in to help us in this time of crisis. What’s up, Canada? Hey Mexico – how you doing? Hey Germany, how’s it hangin? Remember all them boats full of supplies and food and medicine and doctors and clothes and toys and blankets we sent in the wake of the tsunami last Christmas? Yeah. What’s up?
I’d also like to see some interior congregation of goods and services offering. I’d like to see a hotel chain like Hilton offer up ten thousand rooms all over the country – at cost – for some of the million families to stay in for a while. I’d like to see a Luby’s chain open up and say, “What’s up, New Orleansers, come in here and grab a hot cajun meal.” I’d like to see a Wal Mart or a Ross Dress For Less say, “Hey, chiefs, come in here and get some dry clothes.” I’d like to see gas prices hop up over four dollars a gallon so the oil industry doesn’t have to suffer.
Imagine what these people are going through. Yes, I’m a little sidecocked that they waited along, arrogantly touting “Meh, that hurricane ain’t gonna hit us – we’ve been here fifty years. We know better!” Yeah, you were right. It missed you all right. It’s expensive being right though, ain’t it? But the other side of me does feel for these people. That humanity is screaming inside me saying, “We have to save them all!” Hell, why can’t Chris Craft send a hundred boats out there to go trolling through the streets for people?
But back to what I was saying: imagine what they’re going through. Trapped in your attic because your house is flooded. A hundred degrees outside. Stagnant, stank ass water pouring through the streets, filled with snakes and oil and chemicals from the busted chemical plants, sewage, snakes, alligators, entire colonies of fire ants (I’m not joking here), dead bodies, bodies from the local above-ground cemetery… It goes on and on. So you finally kick a hole in the roof and climb out to get some fresh air. For what? To what end? You’re greeted with the foul odor of death and destruction, and the sight of your neighborhood being transplanted into a lake. And it’s only getting higher. Deeper. Dirtier.
Take a moment off your busy day of sitting there in that lush office, staying dry in your air-conditioned building, feeling full from the good meal you had for lunch, and say a prayer for these people. It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in God. He still hears you. Then go give some blood, send some canned foods, send a check to the Red Cross. Anything you can do. These are our neighbors, friends. They’d do the same for us.