When in a Chicago hotel, do as the other guests do, right? Since I normally never read newspapers (learned this from a very wise sales trainer–Want to keep your mind clear and your attitude upbeat? Don’t read or listen to the news–especially in the morning when its negative energy can follow you all day long), decided to see what was in the USA Today tossed under my door.
Article says a nationwide shortage has recruiting agencies from as far away as San Diego chasing the displaced health professionals and nurses of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast, some for temporary jobs only, while others are happy to help them find new permanent employment–mainly in other cities. Some workers are torn–yes, they’ll have to go through getting another set of credentials in a new state, but some also wonder “what happens when the next hurricane comes?”
Speaking as a person who lives in an area where the worst we might get is a weeklong deepfreeze in winter and a really rough thunderstorm in the mild season, I can’t imagine how people choose to live in regions where homes are known to slide out from under their inhabitants with some regularity in tidal waves of mud, or where buildings frequently relinquish their roofs, windows, siding–and sometimes residents–to the ferocity of wind and water.
A guy I knew once said he’d never move out of the Cleveland area because we are situated right next to a body of fresh water–something he felt will one day come in quite handy when shortages abound. I don’t know if I agree that’s a good reason to stay here–I don’t like the idea of doing anything out of fear (though heaven knows, that’s often easier said than done).
But it’s not the same thing to choose to live in a place that might be a safe harbor in a disaster as it is to choose not to live in a place that’s a known danger spot. The intention is different–and the philosophers say intention is everything when it comes to evaluating decisions for moral or ethical or kindness quotients.
Still, people generally choose to live in places that attract them with vibrant life, or with easy ways to make a living (whether those be honest or otherwise). Nawlins had some of everything–good, vibrant, bad, intense, sexy, dangerous. And it had the music. Everywhere music accompanied you–on the streets, in the shops, in the hotels, bars, and restaurants.
It’ll be fascinating to see what emerges from the wreckage. But one thing we know, whatever it becomes, it will have rhythm and soul–or it won’t be New Orleans.