In that sea of cars, trucks, busses, et cetera streaming from NOLA, is a 3-car mini-caravan containing six of my nuclear and extended family members and four birds. They left their homes on Saturday night and spent nearly 8 hours driving to Jackson. Seeing the news coverage of thousands of cars sitting on the freeways, I wished I could get some sort of audio snapshot of the scene. What were all those people listening to? It would be fun to see a histogram. I wonder in all the tens of thousands of man-hours people spent boarding up their homes and deciding what means most to them, what fraction of that time was spent making playlists for the drive. And what was on those playlists?
So I asked my family:
Car 1: My parents and my nephew – My nephew has hated music since he was old enough to say so (he’s 17 now). [side note - I've never understood this - how does someone hate music from childhood? He would cover his ears and scream, no matter what the music. Is this a condition with a name?] They listened to WWL Radio.
Car 2: My sister and her other son (age 5) were driving my dad’s car. For a while, they were also listening to the warnings and other “analysis” on WWL until Nikolai demanded something different. My sister had to make do with whatever was in my dad’s cd player, which turned out to be Abbey Road. Apparently, Octopus’s Garden is Nikolai’s favorite.
Car 3: Matthew drove the third car and was the only person listening to music of his own choosing. But even he didn’t prepare any special playlists. He said he just played mixes he’d made earlier and had in the car.
So there you go. I wonder if anyone had time to think about their music. Would I think about the music if I were about to lose my house? Probably not, I guess. Somehow that makes it even more interesting what was on those stereos.
They’re in Memphis now. I’m watching tv on the internet as I type this, and a song just came on…”Who knows what tomorrow will bring…maybe sunshine and maybe rain…”
Definitely rain.
Addendum September 3, 2008
Half of the merry bunch made it back home to their respective homes tonight. Apparently it was a very smooth drive back into New Orleans from Memphis. I asked my sister again what she listened to on the way back. She said “i flipped radio stations, and wished sorely i’d brought my cds. 
listened to a bunch of stuff i have no idea what it is.” I asked, “did you wish sorely enough to think next time to bring some CDs?” “No,” she said, “:D – instead, i got exposure to more music. it worked out.”
When my family tried (unsuccessfully) to evacuate for Rita all we listened to was my son crying.
I don’t envy anyone that has to make one of those horror trips. Worry, fear, boredom, and so much more. Joy.
Here’s hoping New Orleans sees tomorrow.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that, socioeconomic impacts from Katrina have left a majority of current New Orleans residents in a lurch as far as fulfilling the nuclear need for basic provisions like savings, insurance and expendable cash to see them through tomorrow. Even though music is highly important for every man, music is not affordable for every man.
More than 2 million people FLED New Orleans over the weekend. I bet that at least 65 percent of them were listening to the radio if their radios worked or they were fortunate enough to be in a private caravan or vehicle with outside communication to guide them.
Maybe if they had a sense that FEMA would be caring for them with frequent and comprehensive pit stops every few miles or at least agreeable deposits from bus lines into cities they could foresee spending an eternity missing their homes- in debt and totally inside out… they would relax and jam out to their ipod mixes.
For me, trying to put myself in their shoes… having spent time in New Orleans.. having children… having seen what was done for those who suffered Katrina… I would be listening to the lower end of the dial and hoping that the Cajuns would deliver some kind of reality to me because God knows the Rice students at KTRU don’t know how to…
I guess I wonder how many of those evacuees have the means to compile playlists for a mass exodus when everything was taken from them and now the southern states creak and moan from the anticipation that more “refugees” will disrupt their sense of comfort, as New Orleans once again leaves home..
I think not many people are listening to their music of choice right now as they flee New Orleans. I think that they are listening to pensive silence or the insanely chaotic sounds of miserable stress, punctuated by privileged and safe commentary from strangers trying to relate to their shit storm. The music they want to be hearing is likely anything that would have them sitting in a safe home to enjoy it… and not losing thousands of dollars not theirs just hanging around for a blackened shot at tomorrow.
Send In the Clowns… or maybe just Matthew Thurman or Babs Bush to tell us how lucky all these displaced citizens are.
Really. What are they listening to? I would love to know.
A lot of people turn to music for solace or escape or other things like that. I find myself turning to music ESPECIALLY during hard times, not despite them. I suspect that at least some of the people who had the means to flee New Orleans are in similar situation to that of my family (that is, their situation sucks, but for the most part, the evacuation involves a lot of tension and boredom and worst of all, waiting). I certainly didn’t mean to belittle the plight of those people who have suffered so much or don’t have the life’s basic necessities met.
I’m not sure what you mean with the KTRU comment? Maybe I’m in a different reality, but I know I’d probably appreciate it more than anything else I’d be likely to hear on the radio dial.
Perhaps whenever there’s an evacuation order, one station could be converted by government order to an all Bobby McFerrin format…
Conor, anyone who is into KTRU is in a different reality from the rest of the world, no? Unless KTRU is now playing Linkin Park and Solange.
I wonder what would be on your iPod run-for-your-life playlist, CB? I turn to music in tought times too, that’s not that unusual, we’re all aware of that already, but seriously, who the fuck makes a playlist for a last-minute full-city evacuation?
This should be an open question to all NOLA evacuees. Did anyone of you make a music comp specifically for the occasion and what’s on it?
No doubt somebody did or at least set one up on the iPod during ride out.
I certainly think music becomes extremely memorable at times like this. Although when you hear stories from folks who have gone through crisis, their memories of music are usually accidental – like “suddenly this song came on and I’ll never forget it…”
I have to laugh though CB, because I’ve been watching the last season of the show the Wire. The word “Evacuate” has been the running joke. Apparently by definition, to evacuate yourself means to poop. When I’m evacuating I think of the song Hold on I’m Coming which was co-written by the late Isaac Hayes. Apparently that line came to him while he was on the toilet and his songwriting partner was calling him from the other room.
wednesday, thanks for making me laugh instead of making me feel like an insensitive ass. i’ve never watched the wire, but as i mentioned, i was watching internet tv re-runs when i wrote this. a song that came on the show i was watching when i was writing this post was martin creed’s“i can’t move”, and in fact it was this song what made me start thinking about what people were listening to in their cars on the way out of town. the song came on as the excessively constipated main character was sitting on the toilet trying to evacuate.
john, as for me, i don’t think i would have made a playlist, but i rarely make playlists, even for happy trips. i have all my music on my laptop, which i would have with me. i can’t tell you what i’d choose to listen to in the moment.
i guess i was thinking that the people in cars on saturday were generally in pretty good shape and had had some time to actually think about what to take with them. my sister, for example, had to sit for about 8 hours at my parents’ place – she was all packed and ready to go and just had to wait. there wasn’t much she could do to help them prep the place. if there were lots of other people in similar situations, at least some of them might have had the time to think about music. it was, after all, 3 days ahead of the storm, and at least some of them would have known from experience that boredom is one of the worst things about being displaced if all the other immediate life needs are OK.
had this been a regular blog, i might have written about something else, but gustav was pretty much one of the biggest things on my screen and this is a music blog. please pardon me if i offended anyone by wondering about something so trivial at a time like this. i have to say that everyone in my family seemed surprisingly happy and relieved to be answering questions about music from their hotel rooms in memphis.
Oh now CB nobody can make you feel like an insensitive ass if don’t feel it yourself -try as they might.
I like the other comments (and commenting in general). These are folks who read the posts after all. Frankly there’s too little engagement here right now. I feel like I’m just bouncing off of hermetically sealed brains. Anyway, I find more truth in the combination of posts and comments than in any one post. I also approach this as more of a community experience than a magazine.
Now let’s see how I feel the next time somebody comes to me in a dark Wednesday alley.
yeah, yeah, whatever is how I like to put it. you know, I did make a special playlist and it kind of goes with Conor’s Green Onions. It’ll post in about 3 hours.
If I were fleeing NO, I would find it calming and hopeful. But that’s me thinking about it from here.
But then again, I usually constantly think about death and losing the ones I love and how it would happen. I wonder if that’s a condition?
Home is relative as it really just matters if the ones we care for are with us or not. Sure it’d be better to be in a house than in a car, but you are together. And you’ll get a house soon enough.
You do have to be somewhat resourceful though. You have to do a bit of leg work, or maybe a lot, and find out how to get what you need, meanwhile maintaining a long-term view.
Again, easy to say from here, but ‘here’ is kind of a pain in the ass and I’m having to do my own long-term thinking and comforting.
But it certainly beats those days when I lived off what I could buy with the coins I found on the floor.
Long-term view. It’s a winner. In other words, hope.
I’ve made a number of hurricane playlists not for leaving during a hurricane, but for staying during a hurricane. Not really anywhere to go if you are in a small carribean island. Maybe I’ll post about this on thursday.
I hope your family and friends are all ok.
And I am in full agreement with Wed when he says “there’s too little engagement here right now. I feel like I’m just bouncing off of hermetically sealed brains… I also approach this as more of a community experience than a magazine.”
Now that W brings it up, I think it would be much more interesting to hear everyone’s bowel evacuation playlist.
Who doesn’t like a lovely little ditty while hitting the pool? Hmm?
Mine would surely include Tom’s in The Bathroom from the Mike Gunn.
Anyone else?
back to escaping new orleans, Iron Maiden’s Run for the Hills would be a contender.
actually, now that jc brings it up, i’d like to hear the bowel evacuation from the inside, along with other sounds from inside the body. does anyone know a good nanoaudioanatomy record? who’s got the best nano-microphones? i’d like to hear what it sounds like when a muscle contracts or a protein binds. or maybe what it sounds like when a neuron fires or adrenaline is relased.
i understand the kid hating music. i love music, but it’s a manipulation, an unnecessary and deliberate forcing of emotional triggers upon anyone in earshot. i can see not wanting to be twiddled in that way.