13 Chapter Ideas For 9th Ward Book

I GET IT. YOU'RE ON THE FENCE ABOUT DIVING into this book idea I've cooked up. Sure, it's true. You had an unforgettable experience in New Orleans. Whether it was volunteering in the 9th Ward or simply surviving Katrina. But to write about it now? With a deadline looming in 2 weeks?! "There's so much I could write, so much I want to say," you've been telling yourself. "But it's all overwhelming. I don't know where to begin."

Maybe this will help. What follows is a list of the 13 chapter titles I'd like to pursue. In the course of explaining what I'm looking for in each chapter, maybe my specific questions will jog your memory or even inspire you to write something.

1. SHOWING UP What brought you to New Orleans? What inspired you to make the trip? How'd you hear about Common Ground? What was your trip down to New Orleans like? Did you go straight to Common Ground? If not, what'd you do in NOLA before you got to Common Ground? What was your 1st impression of St. Mary's? How were your 1st few minutes and hours spent at Common Ground? Did anyone or anything leave a particularly strong impression from your initial moments at the place?

2. SYNCHRONICITY Did you experience a symphony of synchronicity and serendipity? Was there an abundance of coincidences and good fortune in your world? New Orleans is famous for its black magic underbelly. Did you experience any of that? Any ghost encounters? Mystical visions or encounters?

3. MUSIC There was an abundance of music in the air at St. Mary's and around New Orleans. Do you have any music related stories? Songs you wrote? Songs you remember hearing someone play or sing at St. Mary's or at a bar in the Quarter? One of my fondest memories is gettting awakened by some nameless banjo player picking his way through the halls of St. Mary's at what seemed to be some ungodly hour. I'm not an early riser, so that was an especially sweet wake-up call. It was several day later before I learned that banjo player was Josh, the endlessly patient North Carolina dude who seamlessly got the gutting teams going every morning during my 1st tenure in the 9th Ward.

4. CHILDREN There's no possible way you could've spent any time at Common Ground without crossing paths and having some kind of interaction with the local kids. They were abundant and adorable. Tell me about some of the kids you met.

5. LOCALS Same goes for the grown ups in the 9th Ward. I was floored by how friendly all the locals were to some curious white dude from California. My experience was rich with encounters with the locals. Who are the locals YOU'LL never forget? Pick one. How'd you meet this person? What was their story? What made them unforgettable?

6. THE WORK Let's not forget what we were down there for in the 1st place. We worked our asses off. Some of us harder than others. I'd love to read your stories of your work days. Who'd you work with? What did you do? What did you find gutting houses? Did you ever talk to one of the owners of the houses you gutted? Were you worried about the mold? Do you still worry about getting sick from it? How'd the work make you feel? Was it exhausting? Did you feel like you were accomplishing something? Or did you feel like you were in the way? Anybody get hurt on any of your work sites? If you worked a non-gutting job, I'd love to hear about THAT.

7. POLITICS This could be anything from national politics and the U.S. government's response to post-Katrina New Orleans. On down to group politics at Common Ground, where there always seemed to be some kind of behind-the-scenes drama going on. Did you experience a political awakening in New Orleans? Or did the conditions simply confirm what you already knew? What did you learn about the politics of what's happening down there? Did you ever get angry when hearing a story of govenment neglect from some local, who usually shared their story of federal malfeasance with a smile and a shrug? Did you witness any power trips or rampant hypocrisy amid the pecking order at Common Ground and St. Mary of the Angels?

8. SAFETY These stories/anecdotes could be about how safe you felt walking the streets. Did you ever stroll back to the 9th Ward from the French Quarter? What was THAT like? Your story could be about how safe you felt living at St. Mary's. It could be about how much shit you had ripped off out of your room. Or it could be about all those safety meetings you went to. How 'bout this? Let's hear a story about your favorite safety meeting...if you can remember it.

9. SEX & CANDY The stuff was abundant. In many forms. Tell us about YOUR experience with it.

10. PARADIGM SHIFT Any epiphanies? Revelations? Insights? What did the experience do to you? DID it do anything to you? And if it did, WHAT exactly was that? What did you walk away with from your time in the 9th Ward? How has your perspective been changed?

11. ST. MARY'S Rat-infested shithole? Beacon of hope, compassion and action? Or both. It was a place unlike any I've ever experienced. What do you remember about it? How did it smell? How was your room? Did you like the food? Your roommates? Did you attend any of the open mic nights? What did you get out of the various guests and discussions? What's the single memory from St. Mary's that you'll never forget?

12. ANGER Did you see it? Did you feel it? Tells us a story about when your anger boiled? Share a story about when you witnessed someone else angry. Have you channeled your anger? Have you vented your anger since you've been home? Has your anger dissipated since leaving New Orleans?

13. LOVE Did you feel it in the 9th Ward? Did you experience it? Did you witness it? Love is a broad topic. Maybe you write about the love you felt from the woman whose house you gutted. Maybe you write about the absence of Love in our culture and our government that has allowed this ongoing tragedy to happen. Maybe you write about the Love you felt from and for your Common Ground comrades. Maybe you write about the inadequate Love you were getting from your family and friends that fueled you to go down to New Orleans in the 1st place. Or maybe you write about the Love that was alive and on display day after day during our stay. When did YOU feel that jolt of Love, that ray of hope, during your pitstop in New Orleans?


These are just rough ideas. I'm flexible and willing to hear input on this from anyone and everyone. I'd like to have as many of these submissions in as possible by August 21. Write on!

13 Favorite Bob Dylan Songs*

1. A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall. A perfect song about how traveling can help you see the world as it really is. Last year I played the song on my guitar nearly every day for several months. And still don't have the lyrics memorized. According to Allen Ginsberg, this song brought him to tears the 1st time he heard it. Check out No Direction Home if you don't believe me.

2. Don't Think Twice It's Alright. One of the 1st Bob D. songs I learned on guitar. Played this one almost every day after working on The Farm in Canada back in '05.

3. I Want You. One of my all-time favorite Bob D. songs to play on guitar. Simple. Poignant. Perfect.

4. Isis. I'd never even heard this song until I met Tamale a couple years ago. After she let me download a bunch of her Bob D. CDs, this song stuck with me. A 7-minute classic that you've probably never heard of if you only know Bob through the radio.

5. It's All Over Now, Baby Blue. Another tune I played constantantly on my guitar during my farming days in Canada. "Take what you have gathered from coincidence." One of my favorite Bob lines, seeing as how I've been the recipient of some ka-raaaazy coincidences these last few years.

6. Just Like a Woman. Yes, I've been hearing this one since I was a kid. And it hasn't gotten old yet. "You ache just like a woman...but you break just like a little girl." Classic.

7. Masters of War. A song that didn't come on my radar until the last few years. One of the greatest, if not THE greatest, protest songs ever. I'll take this over "Blowin' In the Wind" any day. Over 40 years later, it still holds up. Especially given what's going on in America right now.

8. Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat. My new favorite Bob D. song to play on guitar. I'd never heard of this song until I saw the Scorcese documentary.

9. Mozambique. I want to travel to Mozambique because of this song. I remember loving this tune when it came out in the '70s, decades before I REALLY got into Bob D.

10. Spirit On the Water. A fun and frothy tune from the "Old Bob" era. Another song I got introduced to thanks to Tamale, who let me download her copy of Modern Times. There's a few songs from Time Out of Mind that I could easily slide into this slot, too.

11. Song To Woody. Another buried treasure I only just recently became acquainted with. From Bob D.'s first album Bob Dylan. (A collection that featured 13 songs, by the way.) This one's a classic underappreciated "Young Bob" tune. Every time I hear this song I think of the story of how Dylan, before he became famous, went and visited a sick Woody Guthrie in the hospital. Makes me think Bob D. would be open, or at least tolerant, of a fan (me?) paying Old Bob a visit one day. A guy can dream.

12. Tangled Up In Blue. Another Bob D. song I practiced on my guitar every day for months during my time in Canada. At 7 or 8 stanzas, I was damn happy when I finally had all the lyrics memorized. I'd like to find out more about this "Blue" woman.

13. Like a Rolling Stone. Okay, so maybe this is an obvious choice. We've all heard it a million times. But I still never get tired of listening to it. And that says everything. It's a classic for a reason. I saw a poll a few years ago in Rolling Stone that called this tune the greatest song of all-time. Sounds about right.

* I realize putting together a brief list like this is absurd. Ask me tomorrow and my list might change entirely. I left out so many great songs that I love that it seems a little sacriligious to even post this. But what the hell. Gotta start somewhere. I may compile another Bob list here at some point. But today, these are the 13 songs that jump out at me. Oh, and by the way. That bat in the photo? It's a gift that Bob D. himself gave my friend "5." Lucky bastard!

13 Reasons To Love 13

1. My wounded psyche. In American culture it’s considered one of the ultIimate symbols of bad luck. Which makes 13 the quintessintial unwanted number. Many a high rise has bypassed the 13 altogehter. It’s the ultimate underdog number. And seeing as how for many years of my adolescence and beyond I thought of myself as an underdog—at the very least subconsciously—is it any wonder I’ve gravitated towards 13?

2. Divine inspiration. Jesus and the 12 apostles. 12 + 1 = 13. My birthday is on June 12th. Add 1 and you’ve got…13.

3. Glory days. 13 was my number when I played on 2 of my favorite sports teams growing up. Freshman basketball with a bunch of guys who remained some of my closest friends throughout high school. And the JV baseball team that tied it’s 1st game—then closed out the season with an 18-game losing streak. A team that featured during one game an outfield of me in centerfield, Brother Deke in left field and Cousin Mike in right. (The same Cousin Mike who’s now got 4 daughters, a couple grandkids and a recent 1-year jail sentence for violating his parole and being in possession of some credit cards and IDs for people at least a couple decades older than him. Or so I hear.) There were some characters on that team. And we had quite possibly the worst coach in the history of baseball. And I loved the fact that my brother, my cousin and I all played the outfield in a game. We were like the Bad News Bears version of the Alou brothers.

4. Mr. Arnebold's 8th grade shop class. We had a project where we learned how to make a silk screen for a T-shirt. For some reason I chose to make a silk screen of the number 13. I’m not sure why. I still had never been #13 in any sport. It must have been my favorite number at the time.

5. For little white guys everywhere. Steve Nash. The ultimate sports world #13. Although an argument could be made for Dan Marino. Or A-Rod. And what do these guys have in common other than the fact that they’re all Hall of Famers who wear/wore the #13? None of them has won a championship. They’re the flashy guys who put up the big numbers, the guys who are fun to watch. But for whatever reason they just couldn’t get over the top. Again, I know the feeling. Another 13 connection.

6. Creation. According to the Old Testament God created the world in 7 days and 6 nights. 7 + 6 = 13. Now I’m not sure I believe in the absolute truth of the stories in the Bible. They seem more allegorical—especially the Old Testament stuff—than actual fact. Still, the 7 days and 6 nights story—the penultimate creation—jibes well with my creative/creator mindset.

7. Herbie the love bud. I love the fact that back in the day 13 was Hell’s Angel code for medicinal herbs.

8. Rebel yell. I wonder if my attraction to 13 is rooted in rebellion. It’s like, you tell me 13 is an unlucky number? I say, who are YOU to tell ME what’s lucky or unlucky for me? I’ll decide that. Better yet, let’s act like 13 is actually a lucky number. I’ve always felt different. Maybe this has been an unconscious, even subconscious, attempt to rattle cages and cultivate my free thinking soul. Or merely bullshit? Much ado about nothing?

9. The Stilt. Wilt Chamberlain. #13 on one of my favorite Laker teams of all-time. The first Laker championship team ever. A year before my 13th birthday. A decade later while I was at UCLA I nearly backed my Pinto into Wilt, who was—no lie—driving a Volkswagen Golf. (Back when he was doing commercials for them.) Another decade after that when I was living on the coast I saw Wilt playing in a coed volleyball tournament 4 blocks from my apartment in Manhattan Beach. And then there were the alleged 20,000 lovers. R.I.P. Wilt.

10. Lucky me. It’s actually considered a lucky number. I didn’t find this out until a couple years ago. In 2005 I met a girl on Salt Spring Island who told me that 13 was, in fact, considered an especially lucky number in many cultures. Soon after meeting Butterfly I met Ray, my personal herbal specialist, who informed me that 13 was the ultimate number in the Mayan calendar, which is on the verge of ending in 5 years.

11. Synchronicity. I love how the number 13 keeps popping up all over the place in my world. The #13 pool ball Princeton Matt found while gutting his first house in New Orleans. The 13 student volunteers Santa Cruz Christine came to Common Ground with. The 13-year-old language arts students I taught today at Gardner Middle School. The 13 tapes I ended up shooting of Eddie during our 13-day trip together. On my last night in New Orleans getting dropped off by a cab driver—whose only instructions were to find us a decent place to eat after 2am near the French Quarter. To my utter shock, he drops us off in front of a restaurant/bar called 13. Lots of crazy 13 out there.

12. The father of 13. When my dad raced motorcycles one of his numbers was #13. This must have seeped into my brain at a very early age. There were photos of him racing before I was born that I looked at not ingrequently growing up. It wasn’t until I saw a photo that Sister Julie had reprinted and put on Trey’s wall that I realized Dad was a #13 himself. In the world of dirt bike racing years before ESPN and the X-Games.

13. What's in a number? Plenty, if the number is 13,013. Take a closer look. 13 0 13 … first of all it’s a palindrome. Just like BOB. And if you look at the number just right—and visualize moving the 1 and the 3 closer together—you get a number that spells out BOB. Crazy, I know. But that's how this particular Bob brain works.