“A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own.” – Thomas Mann

My father’s mother passed away in India last night and will be cremated early tomorrow morning. It hasn’t been a year since his little brother’s death, so I worry about my dad’s state of mind. Utterly useless to my family right now, I remember my grandmother the only way I can, by writing about her:

Despite never having spent a substantial amount of time with her, I know Bhavani Paati (Grandma Bhavani) because I am her – she is the storyteller, writer, historian, people watcher, and mocha-colored Rubenesque … woman in me. She was the inspiration for VatulNet …

Paati’s children and grandchildren are almost everywhere in the world – India, Europe, Australia, and the United States. Now, more than ever, is when we wish we could all miraculously converge in space and time to commiserate and grieve. But, time zones and logistics do not always militate in our favor.

… you may understand my chagrin at not having had or made the time to spend with the woman who created and raised my father, uncles, and aunts. Yet, during this blink of a geological eye, I was privy to her company and advice whenever possible and grew a hearty appreciation for home and family. For that, I am grateful.

My grandmother went in the best of conditions – at 94, in her home, in minimal pain, surrounded by close family members, and during an auspicious time of the year for observant Hindus.

I love and miss you, Paati.

I lied, for I’ve made the time to watch the Saints on TV … in my black tank top with the gold fleur de lis on it. The sniffles began when The Goo Goo Dolls made a passionate case for New Orleans on WDSU, and they grew into all out tears when Irma Thomas sang the national anthem. Through his incessant supply of “you know,” Johnny Rzeznik managed to inform viewers that a lot remains to be done here, that New Orleans should be preserved with its spirit because it is the “cradle of musical culture,” and that the band will support this city on their website with videos of their visit here.

Holy Mother of Superdome, it hasn’t been a minute and a half and the Saints just scored a touchdown. They want it so badly, I can feel the desire through the little television over my computer.

Daaaaaamn, do I want to stay home and watch on TV while the city erupts? We are going to remember this game for the rest of our lives.

If you haven’t noticed, Saints fans have been tailgating downtown since 8am today – seriously, it’s like Mardi Gras day or something and I’m the only one not wearing a costume.

Thanks to work work, I don’t have the time to be excited for the Saints. Nor was any found to watch the Packers beat Detroit this past weekend, if it makes you feel any better. I did, however, manage to eke out a moment to announce, “That’s what Michigan gets for the Wolverines beating the Badgers the day before.” Yeah. Punks.

“So, I hear the Superbowl’s reopening on Monday,” my mother started our harried Saturday morning conversation. Superbowl? Superbowl … “Ohhh, you mean the Superdome, mom, it is indeed reopening this Monday,” I replied. My mother shot back, “Bowl, dome, whatever. Are you excited?” Fair enough. Understand that my mother’s verbal acknowledgment of sports is a momentous occasion unto itself.

“Am I excited? Yes and no. To see a place re-emerge into its NFL glory, one that was the symbol of New Orleanian misery during the flood, is a great thing. But, the undue attention given one small and super-moneyed aspect of New Orleans, when there are miles and miles to go before we recover, is nuts. Even life-long New Orleanians have told me they’re sick of hearing about the Saints. And, if we talk about anything Saints-related on our blogs, all kinds of commenters crawl out of the ether to make their voices and knowledge of football stats heard. Where are all of these people when we invite discussion on The Great Government Letdown and Rebuilding Debrisville? It’s bread and circuses all over again, I tell you!”

Not missing a beat, my mother shut me down (but sweetly), “You can’t be like that, Maitri. Give them a break. Do you know what this means for city business? It sends a message inviting people to come to your city – that it is safer – and the money and cheer that comes in from game attendance will be such a boost. Then, more and more people will come and see what New Orleans is really all about today. You have to start bringing them in somewhere.”

Maitri’s mother, the Indian-American Saints’ Ambassador to Ohio. I am … proudly stunned. She is such a surprising woman.

Mom also reminded me of the hurt I felt each time I drove into the city from Houston last fall and saw the torn-up facade of the big alien spaceship. So, in the spirit of Green Bay Packer goodwill, I wish the Saints and their fans a joyous return to the Superdome. Here’s hoping you beat the dirty birds!

The Picornaviridae have been conquered and fast internet access is (miraculously) once again mine.  Let the backlog of VatulBlog posts flow. *insert mental image of me in a one-person second line down Magazine St. with trumpet blares and drum beating here*

But first, let me address two items from today’s T-P, which when put together puzzle me:

$500,000 Of State Money To Replant Private Westbank Golf Course

The additional aid to the privately operated Tournament Players Club Louisiana is tucked into the state budget passed by legislators this spring and signed by Gov. Kathleen Blanco. The budget lists the $500,000 expenditure as a “forestry program for the planting of trees and other native plants due to losses sustained from Hurricanes Katrina and Rita,” without mentioning the golf course.

London Canal Trees On The Chopping Block

“It’s unfortunate that we must remove these trees after New Orleans has suffered so much loss of its tree canopy,” [landscape architect Michael] Stout said. “But we have no choice.”

Is the state replanting trees on public New Orleans land “due to losses sustained from Hurricanes Katrina and Rita?” What’s growing in place of the many magnificent oaks and magnolias we lost to the flood? Educate me.

Also, thanks to Ryan who noted that several of us New Orleanians featured in a recent San Antonio Express News article on hyperlocal blogging.