Meeting Katrina

She’s here. And she’s feisty.

The sliding glass door in Hyatt #1226 is rattling. Wind is gusting from the west at upwards of 75 miles an hour. Rain is blowing in gray-streaked vertical sheets. Palm trees are stretching and swaying. Power is out in nearly half a million homes already. And Katrina’s just barely arrived.

There was a palpable sense of excitement, dread, and even disbelief in the office today. I overheard, “The show must go on” more than once. And it will. MTV News stops for nothing. Though we do take shelter. We abandoned our remote offices a bit early. The digiterati among us took up positions in our hotel rooms.

And so I’m writing you now from about 150 feet above the confluence of the Miami River and Biscayne Bay. The river is white capped. I can’t see the bay. The skyline has disappeared into a constant wall of gray. It’s kind of exciting. But then, the winds haven’t turned yet. When they do, I imagine the din will be deafening.

On the television behind me, Channel Six News is having a field day. News organizations live for this shit. I suggested we stand John Norris out on the beach like CNN or The Weather Channel, but I’m betting that doesn’t happen.

In the meantime, I’ve continued working in the background on my forthcoming record and tour. Chris Abad, Casey Shea, Wynn Walent, and I will be setting out for a four-man, solo singer/songwriter Northeast tour in the middle of November. I’ll do a quick Midwestern jaunt shortly thereafter.

And ironically, “Heartland” producer (and Nada bassist) Jon Locker just sent me a mix of “Milk & Honey,” a strong candidate for the third track of the new record. The first verse goes like this:

I wanna’ get away
Outside the hurricane
I wanna’ find a place
Out of the driving rain
For you, maybe it’s you

Of course, when I wrote the lyrics, I was thinking entirely in metaphor. Now? Not so much so.