My Birthday, Bob Reily & FEMA Trailers

I've decided.

I received the A-OK on using my friend's beach house near Pensacola for my birthday, so that's where I'm headed. I am SO excited! Woo! Hawaii is nice, but truth be told, I prefer Florida. Is that weird? I don't care.

I booked my rental car and need to book my flight. But prices went up since I looked last, so I think I'll wait until mid-January to book. Prices go down then because people stop traveling after the holiday rush.

I can't wait for this. I've been before. Several times. For a brief period of time I lived in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Truly. For about three months. I took a job down there that wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Ocean Springs is about 2 hours west of my destination. When I decided to move to Mississippi, I called up my old College roommate Bri (AKA, My ninja) and told her I was headed South. She was living in New Orleans with her Husband Chris (who was going to school at UNO). We were both ridiculously excited and I planned to stop at her place and visit on my way to Mississippi (I drove!)

It was nearly one year after Hurricane Katrina. Bri and Chris had lived in Student Housing in the heart of the city during the Hurricane. Luckily, they'd been in their car when the warning came through and decided that although Hurricane Warnings were routine and annoying, they'd heed it and headed to Chris' parent's place near Shreveport. They had the clothes on their back and whatever was in the trunk of their car (not much!). After the hurricane, Chris and his older brother ventured down into the flooded city, "borrowed" a boat and went to their flooded dorm house to get their birth certificates and other personal items. Chris' brother stood on the back of the boat with a loaded shot gun while Chris steered the boat. It was not a good time to be in New Orleans.

Crazy, eh?

So that brought me to staying with Bri and Chris in their gotten-with-much-difficulty-because-they-were-white-students FEMA trailer. What an adventure. What an exercise in government waste, corruption and horrific management. Wow. The trailer park was chalk-full of brand new, empty trailers. They sat, chugging electricity, completely unused. Amazing. The ones that were in use often had a brand-new Escalade or some other ostentatious luxury car parked outside. You see, the families that lived in the trailers also receive(d) a monthly stipend. Families that were rebuilding homes down in the disaster zone would park their FEMA trailers on their land while "rebuilding" so they'd get their stipend. I say rebuilding with quote marks because by the time I got there, many of the houses were completely rebuilt (many were NOT) minus one wall that was covered in plastic. So long as the house remained unfinished, the stipend checks kept coming. And what about those lovely government officials who were appointed to inspect the homes in-progress? They gladly accepted bribes and checked on their survey sheet "unfinished."

Yah.

I grew up in a city in Northern California that is notorious for gang violence and also for generally being a "rough" city. Vallejo. Maybe you've heard of it?  I've traveled the world and narowly missed riots in Caracas, shootings in Panama and gang violence in Poland. I've never in all of my life felt as uncomfortable as I did spending one night in New Orleans. Martial law had the run of sections of the city. Tanks rolled through the streets and soldiers marched around with very large guns. Mind you, this was a YEAR after the hurricane. One whole year.

So while I was chatting with Bri in the FEMA trailer, she mentioned that she and Chris were actually moving the following weekend. Chris was finished with UNO) and while he was waiting for his Dental school acceptance they would be living in Bri's Mom's beach house near Pensacola. What a life! I was so excited that they'd still be near enough to me to visit. It turns out that Bri and Chris and that beach house (so really, Bri's Mom was a lifesaver too!) gave me a place to go and clear my head, get away from my crumbling career and the utter directionless-ness of my life at the time. I went there on the weekends. We ate and played in the sand and played with their little chihuahua Lilly. We took their boat out on the sound and watched the Dolphins jump and held Lilly out over the water to see if an Alligator or big fish would snap her up. It was such a fun time amidst the chaos of my life! And when I eventually quit my awful job, I spent a week in that house (Bri and Chris were in Indiana for the week), working on my resume and demo reel, applying for jobs and every day I'd go and walk on the beach for hours. I'd watch the pink and green sunsets and see large white cranes, starfish, soft-shelled crabs and jellyfish and enjoy the solace of that place.
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And how does Bob Reily fit into this story, you ask? Well, driving from Mississippi to Pensacola takes you right through Alabama. And on that two-hour drive, just before the 'Sippi/'Bama border, I'd call up my Mama. And as I crossed the border, I'd read the sign (in a verrrry exaggerated, mock-southern accent) "Alah-Bayumuh da Beeeauteeful, Gub-eh-naw Bahb Riiilee" (sound it out). And Mom and I would laugh and chat for most of the remaining hour of the drive. That's where Governor Bob Reily comes into play.

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So now, I'm headed back. My life has turned around 180 degrees. I'm not directionless. I have a lovely career (for which I am so very grateful!) and enjoy my life immensely. I have been very blessed.

White sandy beaches, amazing sunsets, sea kayaking and warm weather here I come. And I've decided to go to Hemmingway's in Pensacola for my birthday dinner. Yum! Good food, great ambiance and an amazing Key Lime dessert.

Hemmingway's Island Grill

See you in June, lovely Florida!