Societé Des Champs Elyseé

After feeding the camps and filling the Johnson Street Fridge, we had a case of frozen water bottles to set out in front of the house. 
I have watched all day as people stop and take one, maybe two, or a couple more tucked in a bag, but no one takes more than they need. 
If only everyone only took what they needed. 
This week we had a Xmas in July miracle. 
Last year, a local restaurant had a holiday fundraiser and we were designated as the lucky charity beneficiary. There were corporate delays and we forgot all about it until this check showed up on the day we bought 10 cases of water and hygiene and snack products.  
 

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We hit camps and solo folks everywhere today. Socks. Hygiene kits. The Special Man Box of oddities. Frozen water bottles and Otter Pops. 
Everywhere we went we were greeted cheerfully and watched as the people with so little, make sure everyone gets what they need.  
If only the oligarchs could do the same.  

Our community fridge has moved a few times but has found its forever home in a quiet neighborhood cut off by train canal and highway and full of the quiet poor; hardworking people caring for their elders and infirm. 
These pictures were sent from a woman who fills fridges all over the city. 

Last Wednesday, while feeding the folks at the Calliope, Chuck succumbed to the heat and went down hard. One of the homeless called 911 and after assuring the EMT and Firefighters that he didn’t need NARCAN, he spent time in the ambulance before being released upon his getting an appointment with his doctor. 
After many years of being THE GUY WITH THE CAR, he is really retired. 
Today, a new member who has been picking up the food from the lower nine, found his duties have expanded. 
At every stop, people asked about Chuck before asking about what we brought. 
When you make a difference in peoples lives, they remember. 

The city is now actively making homeless people keep moving. 
No loitering. 
No vagrants. No tinkers. 
The parade passing by my porch is a third world line of refugees, some with ingenious floats built of flotsam. 
The cruelty is the point.  
Creativity is the answer. 

I don’t think I can forget for any length of time how absolutely lucky I am-we are- to have been born at peak USA. 
Even the poorest amongst us is wealthy compared to all those born before us. 
Fortunately I am reminded at least once a week that we can do so much better for each other. I am reminded that those we deem poor, are rich in ways that the richest oligarchs will never know. 
The cavalry is not coming. We each need to be John Wayne. Or Bruce Wayne. 
Each one teach one. 
Fare thee well,Pisces People. Welcome Aquarius and the New Age. 
120 hot dogs and all the fixings today. PB&J next week. 

As we enter the season where we pray to El Niño for the Saharan dust to break up all chances of spinning winds, the Pantaree is stocked and we have actually received some useful food from Second Harvest and take advantage of sales. A while back we bought a case of turkey dogs half price at Restaurant Depot for tomorrow’s meal. 
Last week, Domino’s had half price pizza.  
Next week looks like beans and rice.  
Keep those cards and letters coming in. We need all the help we can get. And we promise to stretch every dollar received. 
Next week we celebrate Al Johnson, who continues to hold on in the Musicians Village. 

Just another Sunday in the French Quarter poking fun at CEOs and the kind of people who move out by the airport and complain about the noise.  A fun time for a serious cause.

Today, I lied to a hundred or so hungry people. While telling the crowd to back up and line up, I told them that we had enough for everyone. 
My intentions were correct, but, we ran out of everything and the people were still coming, and we passed camps that should have received something from us. Even the case of grapefruit from lower nine was gone in a flash. 
I attribute my crying to the fact that I didn’t get a pbj sammich.