Xy flew up to Indiana to visit her family. I stayed here in New Orleans because, frankly, I had enough of Indiana during my evacuation to last me a while. I think this is the first Thanksgiving Xy and I haven’t spent together in thirteen years or so. Nevertheless it was a festive holiday. I went to Mike Kaplan’s house. Last year I also had Thanksgiving dinner at Mike’s, but Xy was there, and it was just the three of us, in the middle of a ghost town. This year, a dozen or more guests, and the surrounding neighborhood shows some signs of life.
The crowd there ranged from 2 1/2 to 70 years of age, folks from Brooklyn and Mexico and Texas and Spain. Mostly it was Mike’s crew, some of whom have worked on our house already and some who are slated to start on our house Monday (knock wood). These guys came to New Orleans for the work, so they will probably be here for at least a decade.
I give thanks to all the workers who have come to rebuild New Orleans. Sure, they’re in it for the money, not the love, but we sure need the help and they sure work hard. On Thanksgiving morning my neighborhood was ringing with the sound of hammers and saws, just like most days.
But damn, Mike does have a talent for hiring psychopaths.