A Guy Named Gustav

Here we go again!

It's a familiar refrain among the people in my family, in my town, in the bottom of my state.

With Hurricane Gustav bearing down on us, we're all saying, "Here we go again." Literally.

After much debate, much angst, much thought and many changes of plan, Marty, Lora Leigh and I, plus the two super poodles, are in Natchitoches, hunkering down with Courtney in her college town apartment.  It's the same thing we did three years ago when a bitch named Katrina headed our way -- only, that apartment was a lot more crowded and on the third floor.  Courtney only has one roomie now, and she has politely gotten herself out of our way.  I'm not sure if that's for our benefit or for hers.

This was our first plan all along, to come here. But then a lot of people started to plan to come here -- Courtney's mom and stepdad and stepbrother and sister-in-law and nephew and brother and his girlfriend, not to mention Marty's parents.  So, we started to rethink.

Then MY sister offered us the use of a big old vacant house in Baton Rouge. We jumped on that. We could just camp out for a couple of days on the floor.

Then Gustav headed right for Baton Rouge. And he started to weaken. So, for a fleeting moment, we decided to hunker down in Norco. I went to the grocery store and carbed up. Then Gustav got bigger and redder out in the Gulf of Mexico.

So, we thought we'd go to Lee and Regina's in Slidell.

But Gustav got bigger and redder.

So, here we are in Natchitoches.  We left Norco at 9:41 a.m. Me, with every outfit I've worn in the past 10 days, Lora's baby books, scrapbooks, school memory books, four boxes of old pictures, my wedding album, all of my sentimental jewelry, the French family silver, all of the family videos and my hard drive. WE also took the Wii and the Playstation2 so Lora and Courtney can challenge each other for as long as we have power.

It was a surprisingly smooth ride. We took Hwy 61 (Airline) through Gonzales and Prairieville, where it gota little sticky because Ascension Parish refused to put deputies on the intersections, and Baton Rouge, which had slightly higher than normal traffic. Then we turned on 71 north through Bunkie, to Alexandria. After a little more traffic at the Interstate, it was smooth sailing. We got here after 2 p.m.

Of course, the intersection at Natchitoches and I-49 was jam-packed with refugees, looking to fill their tummies and their tanks.

My mother, my sister-in-law, two nieces, a nephew-in-law, a grand niece, an ex-brother-in-law and his wife and, I believe, her daughter, son-in-law and child, are hunkered down with a nephew, his wife and child in Baton Rouge. Oh, there's a poodle and a chiuaua there too.

Marty's mother and father, meanwhile, the ones who evacuated Waveland, Mississippi for Kiln, Mississippi for Katrina, and lost everything they owned, are staying put in Kenner.

Daniel and Rebecca went to Hattiesburg, Mississippi. It's raining where they are now.

So, here we are. High and dry. The sun is shining here at 6:55 p.m. There's a gentle breeze. The WEather Channel is locked and loaded and they're talking about my home town. In fact, Jim Cantore is in Houma. And there is a tornado warning at home.

All we can do is pray that we have a home to go home to when this is all over.

Stay tuned,

Lolo

Tags: Jim Cantore, Hurricane Gustav, Houma,

Mac Russo

Every year for the past 17, I have put aside a week of my annual vacation to attend the Louisiana Sports Writers Association's annual convention.  I have gone from Baton Rouge to Natchitoches to Lafayette to Lake Charles to Monroe to Shreveport and back --  sometimes alone.

Over the years I have made wonderful friends.  I have met many of the movers and shakers in Louisiana sports.  I have toured towns, played softball, bowled, swam lakes and pounded shots with many of them. And I have learned to play Bouree with the best of them.

It's not all drunken debauchery, but we do have one hell of a good time.  We eat good. We laugh. We play. Sometimes we even do some work. One year I came home with a cardboard kangaroo.

There is an annual writing contest as well. I've been Prep Writer of the Year twice and I've gotten a couple of second and thirds along the way.  I've learned to act nonchalant when my name isn't called, and when it is. 

And every year I have watched as one member of the group is singled out for the Mac Russo award.

Mac Russo was, by all accounts, an extraordinary man.  A sports writer in Morgan City, he was beloved and respected by all. And the convention he once put together is legendary.

I did not know Mac Russo, but I know who and what he was and what he meant to the members of the LSWA.   I know just because of what he has meant to the people whohave held a plaque with his name engraved on it -- and theirs.

In his memory, the LSWA gives an annual award to the person they think has contributed the most to the ideals of the organization. Really, it's a good-old-boy award. But it's so much more than that.  It means appreciation
acceptance
respect.

From a bunch of crusty old sports writers, it means, "We love you man."

The Mac Russo award winner is a more closely guarded secret than the best actor winner at the Oscars. There is no handicapping. It comes as a complete surprise, not only to the recipient, but often to the majority of the members.

Over the years I've seen grown men (and one woman) struggle to try -- in vain -- to express what receiving that plaque means to them.  They couldn't. They couldn't find the words. They couldn't catch their breath. They couldn't make their brain work fast enough. They couldn't believe that this wonderful group of people chose them.

I know because, Friday night, they chose me.

I heard my friend Dan McDonald talk about the legendary Mac Russo and what a great man he was -- and that legendary convention in Morgan City. Then I heard him promise that the LSWA constitution would become gender neutral for "her." (I also just became the group's vice president).

Then I thought, "Oh! It's Robin."

But then he said my name.

And I simply could not believe it.

But Dan's hugging me, Jim's hugging me, Kent's hugging me and then they are giving me a plaque with Mac Russo's name on it

And mine.

And I can't breathe. Or think. And I can't stop the tears. I am still a girl.

Then I try, like so many before me, to tell them what this means to me. What a momentous occasion this is for me. How special this is. How wonderful this is. How thankful I am to have all of these amazing people in my life, both professionally and personally.

But there is no way I can.  Not even now.

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_2

It's Lora Day

It was six years ago today ....

In a courthouse in Hahnville, Judge Emile St. Pierre declared that this gorgeous, beautiful, funny, precious gift from God -- and from her mother -- would be ours forever.  We signed papers, we took pictures, we laughed and we cried.  Then we came home and celebrated as a family.

There is a young sapling in my backyard, a Japanese Magnolia that just turned from pink to green. That day our family planted it in its spot, surrounded it and offered up our prayers of thanks that this child managed to find her way to us.

Instead of gifts, I asked everyone to write on a piece of paper a wish or a message for Lora to read someday. We read them all and put them in a box.  Someday Lora can sit under her tree and read them. I hope then she realizes just how loved and wanted she was on that day and this one.

So, take a moment to celebrate Lora Day! Love your children and remember how lucky you are to have them ...

Louisiana Sports Writers Association Hall of Fame

After so many false starts, and too many false promises, the LSWA finally broke ground on its long-awaited Sports Hall of Fame Museum on Thursday. It should be open in 2010 -- which is about the time I am due to become the president.

You can see it here: (you may have to cut and paste). I'm in the blue sweater. Click Play.

http://www.kalb.com/index.php/news/article/once-a-vision-now-an-18-million-dollar-dream-come-true/2549/

Another one I didn't write, but wish I had

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the abode
Only one creature was stirring & she was cleaning the
commode.

The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
While visions of Playstations & Barbies flipped through their
heads.

Yes, and dad was snoring in front of the TV,
with a half constructed bicycle propped on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
which made her sigh, "Now what is the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes & soot, which fell with a shrug,
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."
"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake"

"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks Santa, but all I want is time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "So I've made you a clone."
"A clone?" she muttered, "What good is that?"
"Run along, Santa. I've no time for chit chat."
Then out walked the clone-The mother's twin,
Same hair, same eyes, same double ch in.
"She'll cook, she'll dust, she'll mop every mess."
"You'll relax, take it easy, watch TV and rest."
"Fantastic!" the mom cheered, "My dream has come true!"
"I'll shop, I'll read, I'll sleep a night through!"

From the room above, the youngest did fret,
"Mommy?! Come quick, I'm scared and I'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled,"She sure knows her part."
The clone changed the child and hummed her a tune,
as she bundled the small one in a blanket cocoon.
"You're the best mommy ever, I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "And I love you too."

The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal."
"That's my child's LOVE she is going to steal."
Smiling wisely, Santa said, "To me it is clear,"
"Only one loving mother is needed here."
The mom kissed her child and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head."
"Sometimes I forget, it won't be very long,"
"Before they'll be too old for my cradle and song."
The clock on the mantle began to chime.

Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side, Santa said:"Goodnight"
"Merry Christmas, dear Mom, you'll be all right."
Sometimes we need reminding of what life is about.
Especially at times when the Holiday season shouts,
and all we do is clean, bake, and procure.
You get the picture---I'm sure.

So stop for a moment and hug that little one so dear,
whether he/she is 2 or 22, or even older this year.
For they are the gift that God gave us from Heaven above,
and what a special gift to be treasured, with endless LOVE!

Words of Wisdom from Lora Leigh

It's Thanksgiving Day. I have pulled out all of my wedding gift china and my silver passed down to me from my great-grandmother. The table is gorgeous. I am very proud. I know my grandmother would be proud.
Lora Leigh says: "Mom. It's a little much."
*********************
Santa Claus has gone to Lora Leigh's school for pictures. She gets all dressed up and goes. She comes home:
Me: Did you see Santa?
Her: Yes.
Me: Was he nice?
Her: Yes.
Me: Did you tell him what you wanted for Christmas?
Her: No.
Me: Why not?
Her: Because I knew that wasn't the real Santa. That was just some guy in a Santa suit.
****************************************************
Lora Leigh would love to be on TV someday. She wants to sing and act. She says to me, "Mom. I'd love to be on a TV show one day." Me: "You would? What kind of show would you want to do?" Her, "Full House."

The things kids say.....

Lora Leigh really does have an amazing memory.  We were on our way to the Boo at the Zoo tonight, our second visit to the annual event.  Last year, we made the mistake of taking her on the Ghost Train.  She was terrified.  Tonight, she told us she wasn't going near it. Then she started rattling off all the parts of it that scared her last year?

"I remember, Mommy," she said.

"I have a memory like a Hippopotamus."

Now we're at home. And Tennessee and South Carolina are playing football on TV.
 Lora Leigh wants to know if the Tennessee team is the Pumpkins or the Home Depot ...