A mandatory evacuation of New Orleans has been ordered -- everyone is supposed to leave. The whole city is under water, the bridges into the city are, from what I understand, down, the place is wrecked. I've been looking at pictures all morning and trying to grasp all this -- my university, the University of New Orleans, on the lakefront, it's probably gone. The library out there, certainly. The zoo? The aquarium? The art museum? Surely they packed and stored all the paintings? Surely the art is safe?
Jackson Square? All those lovely houses in Old Metairie? The Central Grocery? The Cafe Du Monde?
Mr. delagar is upset about his used record store. We got a record from it two days ago. "The last record," he mourned. The store was down on Decatur Street. It was run by an ex-Brit, and full, oh, just full, of used vinyl. The owner never wanted to sell him anything. He would beg mr. delagar not to buy records. Now they're all drowned, no doubt.
The kid says: "What about Grandma's teddy bear collection? What about the Green and White Street?"
We're all in mourning here.