No More POD!

(The mailbox is leaning because it was hit by a dump truck. Replacing it is on The List.)

Beamer had his POD picked up today. Beamer is a guy who lives across the street from us (next to the doctor with the meticulously manicured lawn). We call him Beamer because he has a BMW convertible of which he is VERY proud, and we didn’t know his name until after Katrina when everyone on the street started spending a lot of time out on the street. He’s actually a great guy, but we still call him Beamer amongst ourselves.

Beamer and his wife had flown out to California for a holiday the week before Katrina hit, leaving their 9-year-old daughter home with his 21-year-old. The older girl evacuated with her little sister before the storm, but because she’s not allowed to touch daddy’s BMW, she drove off in her little silver Honda. I was out dumping a load of moldy books on the curb when Beamer and his wife came home for the first time. He walked up to his BMW, opened the door, and then just stood there while the water poured out around him. I thought he was going to sit down in the driveway and cry.

The insurance company refused to replace his BMW. They fixed it. Every couple of weeks, he takes it in so they can “fix” it some more.

Beamer has a friend who’s a contractor from Texas. After months of promises, the guy finally started on Beamer’s house the day after Mardi Gras. But unlike most construction crews, this one showed up every day. By some weird coincidence, Beamer & Family moved back into their house the same weekend we did. His bill? $259,000. I was talking to his contractor the other day, and he told me he’s working on about 50 houses in the New Orleans area, so he doesn’t get home much. “Home,” incidentally, is a 15,000 square foot house in Dallas. I felt so sorry for him. Not.

Beamer has been back in his house for six weeks now, but it takes a while to get settled, and they only had the POD picked up today. (POD, for those who don’t know, stands for Portable on Demand Storage.) Personally, if it were me, I’d have had my stuff out of that little tin thing before hurricane season started, but then, we all know I have anxiety problems.