It is a windy night as the outer bands of Ike run through New Orleans.  My thoughts are with folks in Galveston and Houston and all along the Texas Gulf coast.  I didn’t watch CNN during Gustav, but find myself riveted now that the the storm is not putting me in direct danger; it’s as if I can finally bear to look now that I’ve got a little distance.  But we’ve still got the winds.  I went for a bike ride down to the Quarter tonight, testing myself against the gusts.  Turns out I can make it, but I’ve got to keep peddling.  Seems a good general rule.  The Quarter was full of characters, including a woman I met months ago at a roller derby event.  What was she doing at the bar where I write my letters?  Far more unsettling, though, is the appearance of this vacuum cleaner on Decatur near Jackson Square.  What could it possibly be cleaning?  Who thought it would be appropriate to wheel it out to the curb and leave it, here in the cleanest part of the city?  Who knows.  To be honest, I liked passing this machine on my ride home.  Its incongruity made my night seem far more reasonable than it had before.