FROM THE QUARTER

By Debbie Lindsey

Forever Home, Forever Dreams, Forever Expenses

The American dream of home ownership can be perilous and an adventure to say the least.

There’s a mysterious pop sound. Then, twenty minutes later, another. Then a flash/spark of light burst forth from the electric wall heater. Oh! and all the electric outlets on one side of the house don’t work. They did; now they don’t.

Welcome to Day Two of home ownership. And why am I only prescribed ten itty bitty strength valiums a year? Sure the electric stuff will be replaced, repaired, and made safe, but then there’s the roof, foundation, sewer lines, not to mention the rain gutters. Ah! but it is all ours—not counting the bank and natural disaster’s first dibs on it.

I will never be able to enjoy hurricane season again. Instead of panic-shopping for beer, wine, stockpiles of toilet paper, and pet food, I will be buying tarps, fire extinguishers (actually always had this item), and regretting not having storm windows. I can picture myself flung across the roof to protect the shingles. No more hurricane parties. I will just be staying alert all night reviewing my flood insurance policy by candle light—nix the candles, they’re a hazard.

Winter freezes will be another thing, too. I never ever enjoyed approaching cold fronts, but now I will really hate them. As a tenant, we always did our utmost to protect the pipes, the outside washer, and water heater. Last big freeze, I went outside during the night with a blow dryer to warm exposed pipes and ran the dryer to warm the washer. But now all the cats, our dog, Philipe, and I will have to sleep under the house to warm and cuddle the pipes. And you think I am kidding.

I have never owned a house, never uttered the word escrow. Now terms like mortgage, title, lender, estimate, discloser, promissory, and security instrument are nails on the chalkboard to my ears. And the word “documents” fills my heart with dread and my brain with ADHA confusion and overload. Just writing about this has the chronic stress-triggered pinched nerve in my back vying for attention. I have writer’s cramps from signing my name in full legal and legible form.

But not all this house hunting and house buying has been painful—much of it has been educational and eye opening. And while it has always filled me with terror to see termite damage on any building anywhere, I now go weak in the knees when I pass a sagging roof, cracked rain gutters pouring water over unprotected window sills, or vinyl siding camouflaging rotting exteriors with lead-based chipping paint. I even look under random houses and shudder at the foundations. But as I said the house hunting has been informative and I walk past buildings now with a curious and keen eye. I notice slate roofs, eaves (closed, boxed and open), gutters, different types of porches and stoops and does the rental side of the double include a handrail (required by insurance). I already had a bit of knowledge of the various styles of architecture found in New Orleans, but now I look to see what kind of attic ventilators adorn the roofs. And my observation does not stop with the houses themselves: Are the trees planted too close to sewer lines? Of course I look to see if the AC compressor is mounted on the roof or ground level. Oh the slippery slope of house gazing—speaking of which aren’t those tile steps a liability when it rains?

Clearly I am not totally on board with this home ownership thing. Most folks congratulate us with enthusiasm and seem a bit saddened when I respond with my POW look. I feel trapped and frightened beyond belief. Husband sees a “Forever Home,” and I see foreclosure documents. He wants me to take a leap of faith as I teeter at the edge of a cliff. But a leap was made and the hurdle is high and there are and will be plenty of scraped shins as we climb into home ownership.

Oh! Did I tell you? We are now landlords. As you may know most of our New Orleans houses are doubles (duplexes). Used to be this set-up would provide the homeowner with income via the tenants’ rent—not so much the case anymore. If you want to not be a part of the problem that renters in this town now face, you can only raise the rent just enough to break-even with the ever rising expenses of ownership.

There is no denying the house has good bones despite a bit of osteoporosis. She is 130 years old but a tough old bird. Yes, she is a lady. I view most houses as of the female persuasion and skyscraper type architecture as male what with the obvious phallic look. She has retained so much of her original charm and despite my best efforts to wish away this purchase it seems this house wants us—like it was simply meant to be (or it’s akin to a staph infection that won’t go away). Regardless, she is ours now and like a feral cat, we simply must nurture her back to health. She will from now on be named Miss Money Pit. This name, this title, is given with a degree of affection and is most befitting. I will do my best to tend to her and respect the history and craftsmanship of this house. I will make it our home.

PO-BOY VIEWS

By Phil LaMancusa

Love and Death or M*A*S*H

Humor me. Think about yourself and your life as a pair of lovers (even if it’s just you and yourself) holding hands and walking through Armageddon, seeing each other in each other's eyes, and picking your way through the rubble of destroyed buildings and broken bodies, heedless of cries for help and succor, as you make your way to sanctuary—a place to make gentle love. Life is like that if you’re lucky enough to see the turmoil happening around you from an unscathed vantage point. Happy Valentine’s Day. You deserve it.

Death and destruction around us is viewed either subjectively or objectively, and we can watch and read the news of hell on earth and either be touched deeply by it or be impatient for the next feel good story. We can be callous because of our need for self protection. No one needs to be empathetic and live. That much pain would be unbearable.

Oh, we’re not apathetic, by any means. It’s called psychic numbing. Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows (Melanie Joy, Ph.D.) cites that our system works this way. We love animals (insert people), and we don’t want to see them suffer. We have three choices (insert when we witness or participate in misery and/or cruelty). We can change our values to match our behavior, change our behavior to match our values, or we can change our perceptions of our behavior so that we appear to match our values. The third option is the way our system works when we can love on our pets but allow ourselves to rationalize forty million turkeys being slaughtered for our holiday dinners.

I’ve been watching a lot of M*A*S*H lately; actually I’ve just finished all of the eleven seasons. I’ve taken away two things from M*A*S*H besides the terrific acting. One is that Hawkeye, Radar, Klinger, and Hot Lips (and the rest of the cast) are some funny, funny people. The second is that the underscoring their antics from virtually the first episode is they view the war as senseless, but their view cannot stop the bodies that continually wind up coming in, necessitating them to repair them (when they can), and, if they’re well enough, send these unfortunates back to fight in this senseless war. All through the mud and the blood and the beer, there’s the senseless war.

That’s what we have here.

People are dying senselessly all around us, and we, as individuals, can do nothing to stop this from occurring and continuing; paying attention to this only brings me a feeling of impotence, yet I cannot turn away. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Here’s a quick quiz. I’ll give you the situation, and you fill out the location:

Starvation in ___? War in_____?

Hurricane____? Earthquake___?

Tornados___?

Environmental disasters ___?

Mass shootings____ ?

Homelessness ___? Poverty ___?

Prejudice ___? Greed? ___?

That last one’s a ringer and the answer to that one is “everywhere.” You might consider that some of the conditions of those other quiz questions can be due to greed.

It works due to your greedy politicians being given campaign money by a greedy polluter, manufacturer, real estate developer, and/or power-hungry wealthy donor. The politicos use that money to further their ambitions for power (a type of greed) while getting legislations passed that perpetuate the businesses and ambitions of the donors and/or turn a blind eye on their inhumanity, or, simply put, money talks.

Who takes it in the shorts? The answer to that is really simple—the whole world. What can we do about it? Nothing. It’s too overwhelming. It’s frigging crushing to even think about it. How do we, as a society, create enough Mackenzie Scotts to counteract all of the you-know-who’s?

Well, Hawkeye Pierce and B.J. Hunnicut would know the answer: be kind, sarcastic, a pain in the ass, and complain, point out discrepancies in the system, and refuse to participate in its inequities, as well as vote, get involved, do something useful for no reward or recognition, and pay attention. Be better.

Sure, on M*A*S*H most everybody’s getting laid (or trying to), playing practical jokes on each other, getting drunk, eating lousy food, and living in lousy conditions, but, in spite of all that, when the wounded come in and the broken bodies get to the operating room, there’s no monkeying around. It’s all business. That’s another lesson to learn—put people’s welfare and wellness ahead of our selfish convenience. Which would you rather see: a pig drinking beer or a hog getting its throat cut (or a dog, a horse, or a person)?

Valentine’s for me is not only a celebration of love, but a time for pre-spring evaluation of my habits and behavior. Say what you want about January 1st, my new year starts with the Vernal Equinox (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ with it). So I think this year I’ll adopt the Hippocratic tradition and think of myself as a person who will conduct their life by “[f]irst, do no harm,” and second, refusing to support anyone who does harm.

That’s a tall order and a noble thought. It's gonna take a lot of will power and strength. Therefore, I will go to another source of courage, fortitude, wisdom, and instruction. I am now committing myself to watching all the episodes of Golden Girls

After that maybe Frank’s Place, and then maybe Will and Grace and so on.

A joyous Valentine’s to you. May you, by day, enjoy nature and, by night, take life lessons from Sophia Petrillo