Definitions

Can someone tell me if this is coincidence or irony?

I travel to the gulf coast where I spent a lot of time hauling cut up trees. I myself don't get to use the cool Stihl chainsaws. My paltry Black and Decker stays in the van.

Upon returning home there was a fierce windstorm. The next day we awoke to find this:















This thing is about thirty feel long. It snapped off the top of one of our massive pines that was alrady damaged by last winters ice storm. Thank goodness our minivan wasn't parked there. In an attempt to check how stable it was for cutting I gently tuged on it. The tree groaned and began to roll over onto my wifes minivan. Oh fuck.

I stupidly ran over to the van and blocked it with my body. I literally stood on the bumper and threw my weight at the tree trunk to keep it from smashing right through her back window. He's what it looked like when it finally stopped just inches from the window:















At least I finally got to use my chainsaw.

Images and sound

I took some of the pictures from the trip and used Microsoft Photostory. If you'd like to see the trip with music and have a hi-speed connection you can view it here.

Pictures!

For those of you who don't want to bother with all that reading, I have finished the photo gallery of the trip.

Home again home again...

We rolled into Wellington at about 7pm Saturday. We've only been gone two week but it feels so much longer. There's a dusting of snow and the towns x-mas lights are up. I stopped by Checkers pizza for some wings. I needed some comfort food.

The next two days we unpack and restart out lives. Everything we took with us needs to be decontaminated. We were literally wallowing in toxic goo and I don't want that stuff hanging around.

Today I went and fixed a bunch of stuff that I've been meaning to, but have successfully ignored for weeks. I repaired the barn door, fixed a gutter, a light, a door lock. It was some kind of strange compulsion. I didn't get to fix a lot down in Biloxi and New Orleans. I brought way too many tools.

If you ever want to volunteer after a disaster you really don't have to bring much besides yourself. If you are part of a large organized effort they will likely have the tools you need. So I didn't get to solder or wire or construct. I guess that's why I felt compelled to do it today, so that when I was done the house would be in slightly better shape then before. It was a result I could see.

When you gut a building, you don't really get that feeling. In fact for most of the time you are making a huge mess. You toss everything from the inside onto the treelawn. You tear out the sheetrock, framing, trim, everything. When you are done the place is empty. There is no sign of the owners life and the walls are stripped to the studs. It looks like you have actually taken a step backwards.

I tried hard to avoid cleaning houses, but I wanted to get a taste of each kind of recovery work. The first place we did was a small business, the second had already had its contents removed and the third was a Community Center. I was able to avoid seeing the remnants of someone's life. But on the last day in New Orleans we cleaned the street the community center was on. This will be the center of this neighborhood for the next year and we wanted at least the street it's on to be clean. I moved off away from the group, avoiding the waterlogged dressers and boxes of ruined books. I started to clean up trash and roof materials. But its unavoidable. There is debris everywhere. So I found myself looking at the life of a kid who 4 months ago lived here. His school I.D. showed a nice looking kid names Darence. He played some sport, basketball I think. Washed out photos showed him at someones wedding. Smiling, happy. He was working at a store nearby and was looking at attending college. They came back briefly, there were signs that they ate several Red Cross meals here, probably while trying to salvage what they could before leaving again because of Rita. Where is this kid and his family? There's a ruined car in the drive. Did they evacuate to the dome for days, waiting for water or food or some kind of help?

Some thoughts, in no particular order:

There are people down there who are in this for the long haul. They will be fighting for return rights, cleaning houses, distributing aid, giving free medical treatment for the next year at least. And without any payment of any kind. I commend these people for their dedication and am amazed at their strength.

The pole chain saw is one of the greatest inventions of the past 30 years. I am SO getting one of these.

In our time along the Gulf Coast, Rossana and I applied over 2 gallons of Purell to our bodies.

If you want to steal a car, go to Louisiana. They don't seem to have temp tags. Really. Also, these people do not know how to drive. Falling trees, disease and police brutality I can handle, driving on I-10 on the other hand is taking your life in your own hands.

When we arrived at the Hands on USA center they had us fill in a waiver. This thing was so full of scary-ass warnings that it is actually funny. Go look at it yourself.

My wife should be nominated for Sainthood.


People.

There are so many people we met on this trip. I wish I could remember all of their names. Each one was unique, each had a different story, each had a desire to help that went beyond sending a check. They were driven, compelled. Something put them on a plane, on a bus, in a car and made them travel, sometimes across the country to do the hardest and most thankless work imaginable.

Jojo from Memphis Tennessee. This kid climbed up everything and worked without stop with the chainsaw. It was dangerous work. The nearest hospital was quite far away and I'd bet he didn't have any kind of insurance.

When James from New York told me his job was a Sommelier I had to confess that I had never heard of that occupation. It apparently means that he is an expert on wines. His job is to make sure his restaurant has the right kind of wine and that the staff know how to select the right wine for customers. He left his job and drove down to Biloxi a month ago. "My job isn't exactly making the world a better place, y'know?" I told him that a good meal with the right wine always makes people feel better. "Yep, but there are people here who aren't getting enough to eat. It's kind of a scale thing. I couldn't stand in a 5 star restaurant in New York serving $500 a bottle wine when people down here didn't have water."

Doyle is the kind of guy I would very likely disagree with politically. But he knows how to use a tractor to do any kind of job imaginable. He spent weeks down in Biloxi. Every time his tractor got a flat from the thousands of nails and screws on the ground he paid for repairs from his own pocket. I would buy that man a beer in a heartbeat. He's a reminder that you can't judge a book by its cover.

Jack came from New York. When someone asked him why he was here he said it was his hatred of George Bush that brought him here. "Everything that comes of of that mans mouth is a lie. The moment he said that he would help out and that New Orleans would get help I started making plans to come here".

Starhawk did a Wiccan purification ritual over the taps at the Convergence Center. She then backed this up with a chemical water purity test kit just to make sure. When the results came back that the water was okay, she did a short dance and left the bathroom. Then I finished shaving.

When they introduced Jenka as one of the legal action team I rolled my eyes. She stood maybe 5.1 and was maybe 90 pounds soaking wet. She was wearing an ill fitting army jump suit with angry patches and a multi colored knit cap most likely made in South America by peasant villagers paid a sustainable wage. If I were a crooked landlord and she confronted me I think I might be openly hostile. Who is this teenage hippie freaker and why the hell is she barking at me? But she's tough. And she's fearless. She strikes me as the type who has faced riot police and been arrested a few times. I felt better than she was partnered with Jeremy, who was as big as me and looked like he would mix it up if push came to shove. The flame that burns in most people is like a flare in her.

No one is sure where James came from, he looked retired. He showed up with a big blue truck that made moving trash and equipment a lot easier. There was no time when I did NOT see him tinkering with something. Lights, generators, chainsaws, cars. Given enough time he will fix anything. And he'll do it with bits stuff he found on the ground nearby.


Final Thoughts:

I want to thank everyone again for helping us get to the Gulf Coast to do our small part. And our part really was small. When communities are damaged they have an ability to heal themselves. But what happens when every community is not only damaged, but destroyed? Biloxi was kicked in the teeth. New Orleans was hit by a car. You can survive getting hit by a car, but you don't just get back up.

I went to New Orleans because I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I wanted to see what could be done, what could be salvaged. I wanted to see it being fixed, being helped. I wanted to see the government response and the grassroots efforts.

The government seems almost absent in parts of New Orleans. In my time there I saw maybe 7 FEMA trailers to the dozens in Biloxi, but to be fair, where can you put a trailer when the lot is taken up by a ruined house? And how can you come back when there's no power? Federal Aid is spending billions with companies like Halliburton and yet it cannot seem to get help to individuals. The grassroots efforts have their ear to the ground, know the lay of the land and aren't in it for the money. But they are simply too few in number.

The problem really gets to you when you take it all in. You see all the different people, agencies and resources available. And then you see the destruction at all levels, and the sheer size of the affected area. You try to put the pieces together, you juggle them every which way. You try to formulate a plan. Everyone who has been there has done the same thing. From the homeowner to the Mayor to even the President. And the maddening thing is that you can't figure it out. You can't get the pieces to fit no matter how hard you try. That's the thing that makes your gut hurt.

Epilogue:
I don't know when we'll get back to New Orleans. But we will. And you should go too. No, you don't have to go as a volunteer. You can help New Orleans by going on vacation and spending a little money there. The businesses, galleries and restaurants there are locally owned. The money stays close to home instead of going into the pockets of multinationals. And the French Quarter truly is a very cool place. And if we do go we will drive out into parts of town we would have steered way clear of before. I want to visit the free clinic in Algiers and talk with Malik. And I want to see how that Community Center is getting on. And, hell I don't drink much so maybe when I'm done sightseeing I'll swing by Common Ground and see if they need a hand. Maybe by then they will be building things. Maybe I'll bring my tools just in case.

New Orleans - Thanksgiving Day

Last night the temperature did NOT drop into the thirties so I got some better sleep. After breakfast our crew went back to the Community Center we gutted to remove the rest of the trash. There are signs that debris removal crews have been through, but very sporatically. The best way to get trash removed is to physically take it to the end of Franklin St and dump it there.

Once we removed the last of the trash from the front of the Community Center we just seemed to keep going and cleaned up the rest of the street. It made an amazing difference. Only one other house on this street has been gutted so far. I don't know if any other houses will be saved or who will be coming back. But their front yards won't look like a landfil when they do.

We changed and cleaned up back at the Convergence Center warehouse (they are BIG on decontamination here) and headed over to the Distribution Center for the big Thanksgiving feast. And it was large. All us volunteers plus a few from other groups, some media and maybe 20 residents of the neighborhood. The street had been closed off and xmas lights hung. There were tables, chairs and a mess of food. At one point things seemed to get tense when a Sherifs department SUV pulled up with its lights on. You could see people pulling out cameras to document anything that might go down, but it turns out he was just escorting a pick up truck from a church volunteer group who was donating even more food to the feast (sweet potatoes and pecan pie I believe). Stranger still the Red Cross stopped by and delivered water. We've seen them twice here in the ninth offering hot meals of dubious nutritional value. "You guys want a hot meal?" they ask over the loudspeaker, but we're usually eating our bagged lunches. This time we offered them a hot meal and WHAT a meal it was. After a few brief words we dug in and it was very good. Deep fried turkey with all imaginable fixins. We stuffed ourselves. Kerule, who helped organize this week long work event sat next to us. She was amazed how well everything came together. The Sheraton Hotel had lent us the tables, the National Guard lent the chairs. The police had made no fuss about closing off the street. I told her my new philosophy.

"Companies, governments, armies, police forces...whatever, are made up of people. And most people are actually pretty cool or are at least, not total assholes"

"You believe that?"

"With all my heart. And it will help lower your stress level if you look at things that way too."

I have no doubt that she has seen and experienced things far worse than I can imagine. Things that can make you believe that some people and institutions are bad thru and thru. She confided that her own Grandfather had been a grand dragon in the Ku Klux Klan. The Klan had a strong following in her home town. But her father regected the Klan and had coached the first integrated football team in her state and now here she was working with a former Black Panther in the 9th ward. People learn and grow. New Orleans has suffered at the hands of nameless, faceless agencies. It has suffered at the hands of corrupt or criminal individuals. But its statistically impossible for everyone at FEMA, the Red Cross, the State Gov't or City Hall to be a racist, corrupt or an asshole. And the proof was our dinner.

We left New Orleans early and headed back to Biloxi. Vlad let us crash and get our first decent shower in a week. It was a gift from the gods. We need to get a tire fixed before heading home. We picked up a screw somewhere and I don't want to drive home with it. It's amazing we didn't get more flats considering the derbris we've been driving through.

I will post more pics and thoughts when I get home, where it is apparently 12 degrees. Sigh.

New Orleans - Day 4. People are people

New Orleans - Day 4. People are people
Originally uploaded by stevepack.

We finished our flyer duties with Sean, the coordinator for the project. He's a local who moved here from Canada to attend school here and fell in love with this city. He works as a librarian at the University, or will once it reopens. Then he has to survive the layoffs due to low student attendance.



Dinner tonight was a rehash of yesterdays rehash. Now with more rice! We yearned for some politically incorrect food so we hoped over to the French Quarter to a little dive the locals frequent called the Deja Vu'.



I ordered a cow between two slices of meat and Rossana ordered catfish. She went off to the bathroom and was gone quite a while. When she did come back she had an older women in tow who she introduced as Camille. Rossana asked if we had any of the eviction flyers on me. I found one in a back pocket that I was using to take notes. I gave it to her and gave her a rundown of the recent court actions and how she can reach the action hotline. She thanked us profusely and went to sit with her husband. After she left Rossana told me she found her crying in the ladies room. They had just come home and were seeing the damage for the first time. She thinks shes okay with her landlord but her best friend is being threatened with evicction so that he can move in a crew of immegrant contractors. I hope we were of some help.



On arriving back at our tent I met four young lads from Madison Wisconson. They had heard a speach by a fellow Madison native who had volunteered here and decided on their own to come down to help. These kids look all of 19 or 20. thats balls.



We spoke at length about what we'd seen and what the prospects were for the ninth ward. We agreed it w as going to be a difficult process and we will need to see what happens when the federal shelters close Dec first. Indeed we will.

Crap

Crap
Originally uploaded by stevepack.

So our quarry didn't show. We've been put back on flyer duty. We are in the fifth ward now. Lots of damage, but also a great many homes that are in good shape. Some are real gems. But its mostly empty. Where are the people? Yesterday a judge effectively stopped evictions by declaring that land lords had to track down their renter and give them 45 days instead of five to vacate. The details are sketchy right now. Of course thats not stopping the illegal evictions.



I felt a little guilty not going on one of the heavy work crews. But the lack of good sleep, hot water and general fatugue have taken their toll on us. We will likely depart friday for home. There's supposed to be a Thanksgiving feast tomorrow for the neighborhood. We'll see if we can help clean up the street for it.

We're on stakeout.

We're on stakeout.
Originally uploaded by stevepack.

No really. We put up flyers this morning alerting people to a meeting to help stop illegal evictions. Now we're staking out this place waiting for the landlord who will try to throw the tenants stuff out and change the locks while he's at work.



Our orders are simple. I.D. The landlord or his hired goon, get his plate number, call it in to our attack lawyer who will come running with a camera and scary looking documents. Sweet. I asked but they wouldn't give us guns.

New Orleans - Day three. Surreal on many levels.

We turned in at about 7pm last night and got a solid 11 hours sleep. It wasn't enough.

More campers at our site now. Still no wifi. Or showers. Same story at Convergence center. Its baby wipes for now. We eat and break into groups. Well we try to, but the announcements drag on and on. Our leader isn't around so I gather up the crew from yesterday. We gather the tools we will need. The trailer appears and we load up and head out to finish the Community Center. More signs of life as city sewer crews are seen. The red cross swings by and offers us hot meals but we have bag lunches.

At 11 we leave the site to attend a protest rally at a public housing project. The city is evicting tenants and is planning on razing the structures. The first floor was flooded but the rest of these units wasn't and other projects survived without damage. These are brick structures more sound than most buildings in the area but the city would very much like to raise the tax base (bring in whites). Several reporters are there amongst the fifty or so people holding banners and signs. Of course, no one could see these signs so Rossana and I went out to the central divider for the street and waved nice and friendly at people. Common Ground has two legal advocates working to prevent illegal evictions. Its going to be an uphill battle.

We finished the tear out at the community center and bleached the studs. Hopefully on friday they can start laying in sheetrock. There is a ton of trash in front of the center. Yesterday we managed to get some FEMA contractors to haul away about half of it. A first, I am told. They promissed to come back today but didn't.

We returned to base and finally ate. Tonights meal was chicken rice with curry vegetables and beans. It was at best so-so. Feeling unfulfilled and dying of curiosity we drove into the French Quarter. It is physically little changed from when last we visited. A few businesses are boarded up and others say 'open soon'. But its a different place. There are cops eveywhere. They gather in clumps and their cars clog intersections. We drove down Decatur I believe and a huge tent complex has been erected. There are large mobile kitchens and lights. We look closer and see signs saying. 'This a FEMA facility. NO public services. ID required.' inside were National Guard and more Police. Outside half a dozen Military Police Hummers sit looking serious. What exactly are they guarding? Of course almost half the police force was fired for corruption, looting, or abandoning their duties so I suppose they need the help.

We found the Cafe du Monde open and ordered the first good cup of coffee we've had this trip along with a big order of Beignets (my addiction of choice). On the way back to the van we stoped by a small hotel we stayed at last year just to see how they were doing. They were open and the nice manager chatted with us freely. She winced a little when she found out we were working in the ninth ward. When I asked her what she thought the National Guard was doing she told us that she believed they were there to keep the gangs out.
'You know just before the hurricanes hit they tried to come down here and take over. The cops had a shootout with a big group and killed ten of them.'

I would really like to find out if that shootout story is true. It makes so little sense. Why would gangs come to New Orleans right before a hurricane is set to devastate the area. Maybe they came to loot. But you dont use guns for that and this area is piss poor for good looting. You want the burbs with those WalMarts and Best Buys.

Then again, this woman firmly believes the popular myths about shootings and killings at the superdome. Its hard to change peoples minds here. But that is really what is needed. Some fresh thinking.

The foot feels much better. I grapped an ice cold shower after dinner just to get the worst filth off me. I pray they get the solar showers working but I'm not holding my breath.

New Orleans - Day Two oops

Dear blog, please excuse the missing day. My phone ate my blog.

Really. I wrote this great report anf then pfffft it went somewhere and didn't come back. Too much to report. Our first day was spend clearing out a community center. This had been a great place with a computer lab, kitchen, q small stage. But they didn't have insurance. We cleared it and began gutting it. This is the suck work and the gear reflects it. Tyvek suits, rubber shoe covers, gogles, respirators. We took out our first fridge. Some of these kids didn't know not to open the door lest the evil contained get out. We duct taped it and got it to the curb. By the end of the day I could no longer raise mu arms to hold a hammer or a prybar. Turned in at 8 pm. I've seen so much. There is life in the ninth ward. Not much, but its here, struggling to exist. Large swaths will be demolished, but much is savable.

We're awaiting diner outside the Convergence Center where the peace of the evening is shattered every ten minutes or so by the trains which move back and forth hooking up cars with a great screeching and horn blaring. More people here now, maybe 100. Rossana started to feel unwell today but stuck it out. Tomorrow we will find something else less physically taxing to do. Need a rest.

New Orleans - A whole different ball game

We enjoyed our last breakfast in the bright, clean common room of Hands on USA and said our goodbyes. We drove the short distance from Biloxi to New Orleans and pulled of Rt 10 onto Franklin Blvd at about 10 am.

What we saw was nothing like Biloxi. I really don't know how to describe it. This was a poor community before the hurricanes, but it was alive and filled with people. As we entered the 9th ward it felt like we were driving into a ghost town. Where Biloxi had maybe 60 percent of its businesses closed the 9th looks almost deserted. Lots of damage, less violent than in Biloxi but most of the damage and debris looks untouched. Most traffic lights are out, not that there's any traffic.

The Common Ground 'Convergence Center' is meant to house the mass of expected volunteers and act as a central dispatch for work crews. The center is located in a warehouse that has had hasty repairs made to it. No power. Showers are half done. Xmas lights strung through the halls are powered by a touchy generator. Its disorganized, but we are also early.

The good news is that I get to use my tools right off. Rossana and I help on half a dozen projects to help get the center up and running. We set up the car port we brought with us and instantly doubled the cooking area. Sleeping arrangements consist of several open rooms with matresses obtained from some prison. The place HAS been cleaned and still reeks of pine scent. We decide that some privacy would be very nice and spend an hour trying to find the area set aside for tenting. In the end we found it, a former day care center that CG cleaned out and renovated in exchange for free use for three months. It's empty as few people seem to have brought camping gean. We set up and drove back for the orientation meeting. It started late and was poorly run. These are mostly college age kids here. Lots of energy and enthusiasm. They want to make the world a better place. Some have hippie names like Starhawk and Sunshine. We cover the group, it's mission, what they hope to accomplish!
and the general plan of attack. We were told that indeed the cops here can be assholes. Several CG people have been arrested on BS charges.

Tomorrow will really tell. We saw and did a lot today. After the meeting we had an healthy meal prepared by an organic farmer to thank us for our work.

No pics as there is no wireless, just my phone. I got my first scare just before turning in. Rossana went to use the porta john while I carried our backpacks to the side yard where our tent is. Suddenly I see the bright blue strobing lights of the NOPD by the front of the house. My heart skips a beat and I run for the front of the house tearing my utility knife and leatherman tool off my belt frantically so I won't be percieved as 'armed'. But by the time I get to the front I can see that the cop has actually pulled over a black motorist a bit down the road. Rossana was shaken too.

This is a whole different ball game.

Day 7 - Last work day in Biloxi

We worked with the tree crew again today. A good crew. Jojo is the lead and will climb up anything with a chainsaw. We call him monkey-boy. He's all of 5 ft tall and his energy is limitless. We were also with Carl, a retired elementary school principal from California. He was the oldest member of the crew but more than pulls his weight.

My right foot is pretty messed up. I took a pic but I don't think you want to see it. I've tried to keep it clean and dry but working 8 hours in combat boots means they sweat. Rossana applied some antibiotic cream and a gauze pad. It really needs some air. Rossana is sporting some nasty bruises and a couple of mean scrapes from tree limbs. No serious cuts or punctures so far (knock on wood) although I have developed the 'Katrina Cough'. I'm told a lot of people pick it up but it's not serious.

When we got to our second job I started to feel bites on my arms and neck. There seems to be some kind of mite down here that finds people mighty tasty. Very small, but they hurt like a bitch. I started to get paranoid and thought I felt them on my scalp. I seem to do more damage to myself hauling debris than any other job. It doesn't help that the area is littered with hidden holes which I seem to find with amazing regularity. I have so far avoided seriously messing up my ankles thanks to my trusty Army surplus boots. Best money I ever spent.

We finished our jobs a little early and dropped 2 of our crew over at a house clean out, The crew leader was unhappy because a Senator and some other political hacks came by for a photo op earlier in the day. The problem is that our crew had already mostly finished. But the senator wanted the photo op so several heaps of debris here hauled back into the house so the could haul them back out again for the cameras. Is this news? Does this count as compassion or solidarity? Are they really helping by using some poor bastards ruined house as a prop?

We finished the day and I went straight to the showers to scrub the little bloodsucking bastards off. They collapsed for a nap. We decided to miss the evening meal. Rossana doesn't want to say any public goodbyes, she just wants to slip away tomorrow. We'll say adios tomorrow after breakfast to the people we want to and then pack up the last of our gear.

We went to dinner at a Chinese buffet with Vlad and Liz which was great. Good food and great company. Vlad is a total geek and it's fun to talk geek with someone.

tomorrow we hit New Orleans. I don't know what kind of connectivity will be available. I may be making these posts from my phone which means they will be drastically shorter. I'm also not sure still about the camping situation. Emails from Common Ground have been vague.

It's great that 2-300 people are coming in to help. But does Common Ground have enough equipment to give them? How will they get to the work zone? Have they set up specific projects? Here at Hands on USA there is actually a whole admin department that supports our teams. They take requests from people as well as scout out locations where we can be of use, they write up work orders and allocate (in a very loose way) resources to get everything done. Is this system in place in New Orleans? I guess we'll find or very shortly.

I feel good about heading out. A whole new crop of volunteers flew in today as well as some hippie types who arrived in a psychedelic school bus 'powered by vegetable oil'. New blood and renewed energy. They'll do a great job I have no doubt.

Photos

I found a Flickr photoset of HOUSA in action here.

Day 6 -Distribution again

No pics today. We were too busy moving food. Our crew was smaller than last time so we had to stay on our toes. We again distributed a mess of food, water and cleaning supplies. Lean, our crew chief said that she didn't see anyone come back twice.

We had no ice today. The SA rep said we officially never get ice but he knew a guy with FEMA. We had stuff they wanted and they had ice so every few days a truck of ice was misplaced and everyone was happy. Unfortunately someone higher up in the SA noticed that we 'didn't have ice' and tried to go through channels and had thus cocked everything up. Our guy said he should have it straightened out by Monday with his buddy. There's always a way around the system.

I don't know what crew we'll go out with tomorrow. The SA screwed up their schedule and discovered they had no one to cook for this weekend. They asked Hands On USA to help. I considered it but it would require leaving base at 5am and working till 3. That's just too brutal for us right now. I came down with an unstoppable itch on my feet yesterday. I could not stop myself from scratching them and today my feet don't look so good. I'll try to keep them clean and dry and get them some air to heal up before we head out on Sunday.

Our great treat was having a home cooked meal at Vlad's tonight. Pot Roast, with potatoes, carrots, biscuits and pumpkin pie. Sheer joy. We swapped Pennsic stories into the night. Too tired to type more. Shoulders hurt from lugging food boxes all day.

Thoughts

We're back at base after a day back at distribution. I keep finding ways to get filthy no matter what job it is. I grab a nap on one of the couches in the main building. In the kitchen they are preparing dinner and listening to Paul Simon's 'Graceland'. It really is one of the best CD's I can think of. It's just great to listen to. Not a bad song in the lot.