This week's work involved a group of 10 volunteers from Fairfield college working on a home all week. The workscope involved but was not limited to: installing bamboo flooring, ceramic tiles, door trim, doors, window trim, thresholds, subflooring, and linoleum flooring. I had some very dedicated volunteers, and some house captain support which made my job easier. The job this week was delegation, and it really began to wear on my mind. I would get really anxious at night and waking up about what jobs could be done next.
But the result of that brain strain was pretty miraculous, we got so much done and the volunteers and I got pretty close. We all went out for Felipe's burritos which are like Chipotle's and margaritas. It was a lot of fun hanging out with new faces and hearing how a few of them were seriously considering joining Americorps with Rebuilding Together New Orleans next year. They were an idealistic bunch, and they didn't mind talking about it with me. They are a Jesuit college so they dont swear. Margaritas and theology ended up being a pretty good mixture and I made a few facebook friends. After Felipe's, my house captain support drove me to a coffee shop where I could read Stones of Summer then we went home. I found out through texting that the Fairfielders went to Bourbon street, those rascals, them.
Yesterday was an exceptional day, actually one of my favorite all time. I went for a walk at 7 that morning and saw the Mississippi all fogged over, nature dancing in the humid and warm air, and I just sat overlooking the river for about a half hour. I walked by the site of a Rebuilding Together party that was scheduled for that night, I thought, I hope there's no karaoke machine. Like some logical proof in my brain, karaoke plus me equals destiny. Inescapable. And of course the night rolls around and the party gets started, crescendos and begins to die down at about ten or so, when I finally strike gold in the CD booklet and find the Wallflowers' One Headlight. Let's just say me and my buddy Darren have stage presence... and I'm a world class singer. I got complements all night, no kidding, from people I knew and didn't know. Coincidentally this party venue is right across the street from Old Point Bar, the one where I showed some people some dance steps.
After the party, we walked back to the cars, and Amanda, the only person in RT who is under 21, drove us to Mimi's and we had a two hour dance party to some unbelievably bassy jams. I got a text at 4:22pm today from Darren.
"That was awesome," he said, "all of it."
"Yes, it was the lost kids on parade outside city limits and the universe was watching," I said.
"But if only they could run faster, stretch their souls farther-but, alas, Sunday's dawn. And so it begins, their venture back towards the refrain." Darren said.
"I think you're a poet, too" I said.
1 comment:
Organizing all of those tasks to get a house finished would be challenging with a crew of pros. Working with volunteers must add extra dimensions of complication. You're going to be an expert project manager by the time you're done with this.
I have a friend/coworker who was teaching in rural Missisippi through Teach for America when Katrina struck. She volunteered to rebuild homes in New Orleans for a couple of months, when school was out. Her volunteer group consisted mostly of Jesuit seminary students. She also said they were a blast. Who knew those Jesuits were such crazy fun folk?
No one can deny your singing skills. Especially if they've heard your version of Hotel Californa a la Speedy Gonzales.
If you want that sweatshirt back soon-ish, text/email/send us your address somehow, and we can mail it to you.
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