How quickly things change. In Thursday morning’s headlines, the mayor’s people are announcing how they plan to enforce the August 29 deadline for owners of distressed homes to begin renovation or rebuilding or demolishing of their structures. Later, Thursday, the New Orleans City Council–most of whom are newly elected and did not vote for this deadline–is softening its stance. They are announcing plans to distribute lists of agencies that will do gutting out and rebuilding and if a homeowner is even on the list, that will meet the requirement needed to prevent a house from being torn down.

On the other hand, task forces will be formed to survey communities, looking for severely damaged homes that obviously need to be demolished, and to send that recommendation to the city leaders.

Jim introduced himself in our associational offices today. “We’re from Paducah, Kentucky,” he said. His church group is staying at Highland Baptist Church in Metairie, and they are wiring homes that have been gutted out, so rebuilding can begin. The youngest member of their team is a 27-year-old licensed electrician and he’s instructing the others. The oldest team member is 91. “His only infirmity is macular degeneration,” Jim said. “Other than that, he has more energy and stamina than anyone in our group.” I asked how they were holding up in the heat. “We’re doing fine. It’s not too bad.” After visiting in the office for a few minutes, he said, “I’ve got to get out of here. I’m drying out.”

Since receiving tons of criticism for his plans to celebrate the one-year anniversary of Katrina with fireworks, a masquerade party, and a night of comedy, Mayor Nagin is backing off. Perhaps they were sensitive to the charges of callousness about the 1600 who died in this city from the hurricane and the flooding, but the mayor’s newly appointed spokeswoman Ceeon Quiett–that’s her name–said they canceled these events due to a lack of time to get them planned adequately.

After the recent criticism of St. Tammany Sheriff Jack Strain over his comments that anyone wearing African-American hairstyles could expect to be stopped by his deputies, two civil rights groups are now reviewing Strain’s office records for signs of discrimination. Following a rash of murders on the Northshore, Sheriff Strain said this was obviously overflow from New Orleans and he was instructing his people to look for the “types” who carry out these kinds of drug wars. Since the Northshore communities of Slidell, Covington-Mandeville, and Hammond-Ponchatoula have for the last decade drawn off a large segment of the Anglo population of New Orleans, ethnic minorities tend to stand out over there. I have no idea what the civil rights groups will find in their searches.

An interesting sidelight on this issue is the mayor of Jackson, Mississippi, an African-American himself in a city that is perhaps 70% Black, who is fighting the high crime in his area by instructing police to go for “certain types” of his own people. Profiling, it’s called, and the ACLU doesn’t like it one bit. I’d tell you what the mayor said about the ACLU but this is a family website.

With the exception of homes in certain historical districts, all new or drastically renovated homes in New Orleans must be elevated at least 3 feet above street level, if the city council approves the recommendation from the mayor’s office of safety and permits. After weeks of discussion and negotiation, city leaders have agreed with FEMA and the Louisiana Recovery Authority that this level should be the minimum required of new homes and those being rebuilt.

On the editorial page of Thursday’s paper, everyone is concerned over the plans announced by Allstate to drop wind and hail coverage from 30,000 homeowner policies. John K. Dufour of Mandeville has received his bill, calling for a “40 percent increase in premium. I blew my top at a surcharge I have to pay.” He says, “This is wrong; it is taxation without representation and was carefully hidden from us by the Insurance Commission. Now it’s too late to do anything. Bye, Louisiana.”

Mike Scorsone of Belle Chasse calls for the insurance commissioner to start playing hardball with Allstate and “levy a $500 surcharge per auto policy that Allstate writes in our state.” I wonder if Mike thinks an insurance company would not pass that on to the policyholder.

The editor comments, “The company (Allstate) is skilled in sounding pitiful.” However, they cannot claim poverty, because “Allstate racked up $1 billion in profits in the second quarter, so that one is out.”

Jane Lala Estopinal of Metairie comments on the mayor’s party plans for the first anniversary of Katrina. “My mother died in her attic in Lakeview on that day and the days following. I don’t think I’ll find solace in any of those activities.” She concludes, “You won’t see me back in New Orleans.”

Two of our favorite newspaper writers have been out of the city on vacations. Stephanie Grace flew into Boston and reported on her conversations with fellow travelers. When people wanted to know what it is like in New Orleans, she would answer, “Well…it’s kind of like this. So much is wrong, so many pieces are broken that the people in charge don’t seem to know which to try to fix first. Regular folks, left suddenly powerless, are begging for some kind of guidance and information. And a little sympathy would be nice, too.”

Stephanie comments, “I figured you’ve got to take every opportunity to remind people that the politicians, editorialists and plain old naysayers who wonder why New Orleans isn’t all better just don’t appreciate how total systemic breakdowns work.” Turning to the trouble with the “Big Dig,” the ill-fated tunnel from Boston out to Logan International Airport, she says, “Just like, until a few weeks ago, the folks in Boston didn’t know (how) it feels to lose faith in the very infrastructure that’s supposed to hold their city together, to not know when they’ll feel safe or even what’s going to happen next. And how hard it can be under these circumstances to really, truly, get away from it all.”

Chris Rose vacationed on the Atlantic Seacoast with his family. He writes, “I went through that crazy process again–that thing where you travel really far from New Orleans and witness how the rest of the world lives.”

“I was gone three weeks. A lifetime. On my first day of vacation, I logged onto nola.com to read the news from home and I immediately said to myself: What…are you doing? I logged off and made no more contact with New Orleans from that point on.”

“I romped around Maryland, Virginia, and Delaware with my family, in blissful ignorance of the goings-on here on the Isle of Denial and I found out a few things about what’s going on out there in the Great Elsewhere: There is a really bad war in the Middle East; the World Cup is the most overrated sporting event in the world; Mel Gibson is crazy as a loon.”

“The only New Orleans news that entered the national consciousness while I was gone was the Baptist Hospital thing. Yeah, I know it’s called Tenet or Memorial or some combination thereof, but it will always be Baptist, won’t it?”

Then, after dwelling on the Baptist Hospital angle for a while, Rose admits something. “I can tell you this, and I’ll be real honest: I didn’t want to come back to New Orleans, back home. I was in no hurry at all.”

He writes, “I have come to understand my friends and the tens of thousands of others who have opted out of living here, being here, doing this–whatever it is we are doing. I spent a day this week driving all over town to get a sense of progress and optimism that might have popped up while I was gone, but truthfully, stasis and inertia seem to rule the streets of New Orleans.”

“And now,” he says, “there’s a storm out there with my name on it.” He tries to remember, he says, that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Then I am iron man.” And he recalls that tragedy is the source of all great comedy. “Then I am getting funnier every day.”

The perceptions and experiences of Stephanie Grace and Chris Rose and what they found away from the city strike me as relevant to a number of our pastors who need vacations of their own.

First Baptist-New Orleans’ David Crosby plans a three-month sabbatical the last quarter of this year. When someone told me he was thinking of it, I called him to second the motion. “Your example might encourage some of our other pastors to take their vacations.” Most of our guys feel they are unable to be away for any extended period because of church teams coming to help. Yet a number are in danger of burnout if they don’t start taking care of themselves. David says he plans to write a book.

After hearing of Gonzalo Rodriguez and his family’s Alaskan cruise earlier this summer, Freddie Arnold thought it sounded ideal. So some of our people have arranged for Freddie and Elaine to have such a cruise later this month. No one needs an extended trip out of town and away from the cell phone more than Freddie. He’s only a couple of years younger than me, but puts in twice the hours and never seems to take a rest. (He may be related to the 91-year-old from Paducah.)

As for me–my family members will read this and start calling to ask, so I might as well say it now–I’m speaking at Glorieta Conference Center in New Mexico in September and we hope to take a few more days in that area of the world. We’re praying for cooler weather. Then, in October, we intend to take a friend up on an offer of a cabin in the Ozarks. I had commented to him that I have no desire for an Alaskan cruise, that my idea of the perfect vacation is a house in the woods where I could sleep late, get up and eat, go back to bed, read my novel, walk in the woods, take another nap. Et cetera, et cetera. No sooner said than done. He came right back with news of the perfect spot for my needs.

Something occurred to me this morning about vacations, something that might be helpful to someone reading this. Years ago, Margaret was reading some magazine article about why husbands are no fun on vacations. She said, “Aha!” and I knew she’d made a discovery. “It says here that you need two weeks for a vacation. Because it takes you 3 days to gear down from work, and then you start gearing back up 3 days before the vacation is over. If you only have a week, you never do get any rest.” Thereafter, as often as we could, we took our leaves in two-week blocks, and once or twice in three week segments.

To pastors and other leaders who feel the church cannot get along without them for that long, I remind them that the church did just fine before they came, and one of these days they will resign and go somewhere else, and the church will go on. I heard someone say, “The graveyard is filled with indispensable people.”

I will confess here I honestly do not think I could last 3 weeks, though, without reading the local newspaper. And who would do my blog?