( continues...) way in, Chief Compass had announced that the NOPD had reorganized and was once more a coherent force. And I can vouch for the fact that they were very much in control of this checkpoint. Just two days before, we were only challenged by military units, who truly were occupying a foreign country.

This was the real acid test. The lead WWL vehicle stopped, the driver talked a rather long time with an officer in a blue-black tee shirt, white silk-screened letters "POLICE" on the back. Then I pulled in behind the lead car with my WWL logo on the dashboard -- waved on through. At this point we had to pull on the side for quite a long time while some large vehicle maneuvered about, stopping traffic in both directions. It was one of those tense waitings -- like when you're waiting to get a lab test result back or after a job interview but before they call you back. Finally-- it was Kerry's turn. She was waved through. And then the truck and trailer. I looked through my rear view mirror. Slowly lugging forward. We were in! We followed our scouts into the city. Unlike the last trip, there were no more checkpoints. So at Poydras Street we parted ways with the WWL crew and headed along the edge and back of the French Quarter til we got to the Park.

The roofer guys immediately clambered out, set up their ladder and got to it. Kerry whipped out her bigtime cameras (you can always tell the big time cameras by the quality of their whirring sound as they snap a picture). Three guys from French Television (Strasbourg) showed up. They had "TV" written in greasepaint on their windshield, were very interested in what we were doing and hung around all the time we were there. Only strange thing was, they had no cameras. Not even smalltime cameras. But their French was impeccable, so what if they didn't have cameras?

Our next project was to board up the doorways the better to secure the building. Someone had locked our gate around the studio, and we had no key to unlock it.The gate and the wall are around ten feet tall. So the roofer simply pulled his extension ladder apart into two step ladders and we clambered over the wall and trooped into the studio. There was mold on the carpet and it was wet. But the equipment was in good shape and upstairs the control room was high and dry. Ditto for the record collection. Kerry got some more great shots.

We then went over to the office across the street from the park. Chief Al Morris of the Skull and Bones gang showed up. Then a lady walked up from another direction. Chief said there were a number of people still living in Treme, had no intention of leaving. He himself, had plans to be on a plane to Los Angeles later that afternoon, but he'd be back in 2 weeks looking for construction work.

The greatest surprise of the day was opening the office. It is in a little creole cottage which sits about a foot off the ground. That was all it needed. One foot high and dry. Everything was intact. I scooped up our membership computer with all our membership history in it (we do have an offsite company backing up all our data, but whether we could actually get a hold of these backups has not yet been confirmed).

I then gathered up a lot of station memorabilia. Photos, trophies, awards, WWOZ CD's. Then four drawersful of paper files, documents (including our insurance documents) and letterhead. The sun and heat and humidity were intense and I was getting exhausted (probably heat-exhausted).

Victor Davis, a neighbor down the street, who also is a film maker, showed up with a camera. Did a rather long interview with me and Chief Al standing on the sidewalk. Helicopters constantly buzzed overhead, probably ruining half of Victor's audio. While we were opining on this and that, a huge military transport truck showed up with a whole lot of soldiers. The red beret kind. And right in their midst-- the lady who had appeared before us from Treme earlier that morning. They were going through the neighborhood making announcements on the loudspeaker. They eyed me and Chief Al and Victor out (continued...)

( continues...) on the sidewalk-- but they just moved on.

While I was driving in earlier, I had heard on the radio that the city was not forcing anyone out of their homes. Somewhere in conversation with someone, I had even heard that the city attorney had taken the position that it would not be legal to do so. I've no doubt that the lady from Treme was not forced to leave her home. Seeing all those red berets, she probably just made a well-informed decision.

Some Japanese guys drove by with "TV" written in grease paint on their windshield.

All the time this was going on, I kept getting calls. Many people, it seems, had read Dave Walker's article abour our roof problems, and they were calling to help. An engineer from the University of Tennessee was calling back to arrange donating a transmitter to WWOZ if we needed one. I had to cut the call short because Senator Landrieu's office called to see if we still needed help with the roof. They were concerned and had a roofer in New Orleans they could send right over!

If you're reading this, engineer from the University of Tennessee, PLEASE call back.

I didn't leave the staton until around 3:30PM. Dwayne had asked me to check on his house in mid city. It didn't take much checking. The water has receded somewhat from the river end of Canal toward the lake, but it still pushes beyond Claiborne Avenue (about 20 blocks from the river). There is no way to drive to Dwayne's neighborhood, and my guess is-- that tells you all you need (but don't want) to know.

I then decided to take another look at our transmitter. The water had receded a few more blocks so I could get a lot closer to the building on which our tower/transmitter is located. I still couldn't get to the roof since the building is surrounded by a moat of murky, toxic, oily, bacterial liquid that goes about halfway up the doors of the cars that are parked on the street.

I wished I hadn't gotten a closer look. From the back of the building, on Tulane Avenue, I could now see that the tower has a slight bend, say about 11 degrees, from the 4th section up. I haven't talked to our engineers yet, but I know this is isn't good.

I then drove out the city taking St Charles and Prytania. In every section-- Treme, French Quarter, Uptown, Riverbend-- I would see one or two people, acting like it was Saturday afternoon in New Orleans: walking their dog, raking the leaves, puttering around the front of their house.

There are people still left in the city despite the "mandatory evacuation." They have no intention of leaving. And where there was only wind damage and not water damage, homeowners are becoming more demanding about returning to the city. That may be as much as 40% of the city if you include (and why wouldn't you?) the other side of the Mississippi River on the West Bank. The City announced today that it would probably take a month to "unwater" New Orleans, instead of the previously announced 80 days. Moving the timetable up for the next phase of reconstruction has enormous implications for the eventual well being of the city. If people can come back sooner, the city will recover more quickly. Have a better chance to recover its personality.

WWOZ's goal is to get back on the air as soon as possible. One of the questions we are still wrestling with is: Do we set up a temporary studio in Kenner, or even Baton Rouge and transmit our signal from Kenner, or even Luling, or do we just leap frog back to our real studio and our real antenna?

And we still don't know. But one of the things that would definitely make a difference to us is the timetable for people being allowed to move back to those portions of the city which are habitable. For example, if we had been located in Jefferson Parish to begin with, we would definitely be planning to just go back to our original facilities-- since Jefferson will be up and running within 3 weeks.

On the other hand, if the entire city is going to be locked down for months, then we don't want to wait. We'll have to set up shop (continued...)

( continues...) elsewhere.

There are other things we still don't know which will play an important role:

First and foremost, will Tulane University recommission the building at 1440 Canal? That is where our transmitter is located. Without electricity and personnel there to work with, we can't use our transmitter where it is. Tulane has announced that it will not open this year (semester?).

Even if the building is not a problem, will electricity be restored in Armstrong Park anytime soon? The Park has its own internal power system, apart from Entergy, and the transformers (innovatively situated underground in a city 5 feet below sea level) are probably fried (although we don't know that).

And what is the status of our transmitter? Was it destroyed by water?

I am thinking that we should go back in next Wednesday (if we can get authorization!). By then the water will probably have receded and we can get up to the roof and finally get an answer.

My guess is that the city will be hard pressed to keep people out as time goes by, and that the unwatered areas of New Orleans will begin to function on a time table not far removed from the Jefferson Parish recovery schedule.

If that is the case, and we can find places for some of our staff to live, ( 2 OZilians have already offered us temporary use of apartments in the dry part of New Orleans) we could set up a generator to make the studio hum, even if Armstrong Park is out of juice.

These are only best case scenarios. We could get slowed down any number of ways: the tower tilt comes to mind. The city's policy on letting people into New Orleans. And we could easily run out of money. It's a race, but today we had a good lap:

We protected our equipment and record collection, retrieved some important documents, data and memorabilia, got a better assessment as to the status of our tower and office facility and got a fresh feel for the pace of the city's recovery.

So to Beth Courtney and our roofer, Jim Dinger, (and the many, many well wishers and concerned listeners) all I've got to say is: "Get 'er done."

Posted by Station Manager Ken on September 11, 2005

Whoops! That was longer than I thought.

Still, the first thing I do when I get to my room in New Orleans is to turn on WWOZ.

I may have solved my problem. Never mind ...

It's funny the stuff you don't think of in a disaster. Every day, it's like "The pets! The records!"

Though the possibility that the walls are that thin makes me feel a bit... insecure.

I just kept my stereo turned up pretty much all the time.

SO. I was just catching up on some pitchfork reading and I found this summary of a recent Jay Farrar interview in Relix in which he finally gives his version of the real reason Uncle Tupelo broke up:

Tweedy has spoken freely about the event from the beginning, allowing his story of Tupelo's disintegration to be generally accepted as fact. Here's his version: Farrar and Tweedy meet in high school. Tweedy, unexperienced as a musician at this point, looks at Farrar, who has been in a number of bands with his older brothers, as a role model. The two teens, along with drummer Mike Heidorn, form Uncle Tupelo. The band's first two albums are heavily influenced by Farrar, but Tweedy improves and takes a greater hold on the group, which (as the story goes), Farrar found hard to swallow. This creates tension and the men stop communicating. Around this time, Heidorn leaves, worsening the situation. A major-label deal brought Tupelo up from the underground, putting on the pressure that led to Farrar's departure. A crushed Tweedy groups the band's remaining members together to form Wilco, and Farrar meets up with Heidorn to create Son Volt.

Farrar does not necessarily disagree with all that, but has his own (juicier) side to contribute to history. In the lengthy Relix interview, Farrar tells journalist Antony DeCurtis that things started to unravel after he saw Tweedy stroke the hair of his girlfriend of seven years, Monica Groth (now his wife), as she was sleeping. "I found out later that he was telling her stuff, like, he loves her," says Farrar, who attempted to quit the band the next day. Tweedy was devastated. "[Tweedy's] parents called mine and said that Jeff 'wanted to be me.' I struggled with that...Then every other day for about a week he would call. After a week of sitting around with no prospects, I decided to continue."

Farrar departed the band for good in January 1994. Before leaving Tupelo, he met with Tweedy for another major confrontation. Farrar explains, "When I spoke to him about why I was quitting I basically laid it out for him. I told him that the dynamic had changed and that it wasn't fun for me anymore...His response was to call me a 'pussy.'"

Farrar's story definitely adds a different dynamic to Uncle Tupelo's end, which is what he hoped to accomplish upon ending his silence in the Relix interview. "One misconception that I find difficult to absorb is Jeff's portrayal of himself as a victim, which I find to be absurd," says Farrar. "There were steps we could have taken to have a better relationship and a better understanding. It could have happened. But it didn't."

Hmmm. One can see why those two crazy kids aren't so eager to do a reunion show. I can't believe this is the first time Farrar is telling this story - I am guessing he figured it would look kind of sour grapes-ish. He and Jay Bennet should get together and start a "Jays who think Jeff Tweedy is a big jerk" club. Or not.

Uhm. All my Christmases and birthdays just came at once. Mark Kozelek is doing an album of all Modest Mouse covers out Nov.1.

According to Billboard.com, Red House Painters/Sun Kil Moon frontman Mark Kozelek is preparing an album of Modest Mouse covers. Kozelek seems to have a knack for fucking around with other people's work. In 2001, he released What's Next to the Moon, a collection of AC/DC covers. You'd think all this covering was a case of lazy songwriting, but Kozelek completely rearranges the songs, often leaving the lyrics as the only recognizable trace.

The Modest Mouse disc, titled Tiny Cities will be the first release on Kozelek’s own Caldo Verde label, and it will be attributed to Sun Kil Moon. The songs have been selected from all over the Modest Mouse catalogue. The album is due November 1 in North America.

Track listing:
01 Exit Does Not Exist
02 Tiny Cities Made of Ashes
03 Neverending Math Equation
04 Space Travel Is Boring
05 Dramamine
06 Jesus Christ Was an Only Child
07 Four Fingered Fisherman
08 Grey Ice Water
09 Convenient Parking
10 Trucker's Atlas
11 Ocean Breathes Salty

I'll stop serial posting pitchfork articles now.

Went to get my 65 tracks from eMusic for the month and noticed that they now have a deal with Nettwerk. Cul. And they've added the SuperEgo catalog (Aimee Mann) and a half-dozen more Townes Van Zandt albums.

Suddenly, 65/month is not enough.

And for the record, I picked up these five from eMusic:

Original Pirate Material, The Streets
We Will Become Like Birds, Erin McKeown
Front Parlor Ballads, Richard Thompson
Live at St. Ann's Warehouse, Aimee Mann
Freedom and Weep, Waco Brothers