An old friend called me today about some advice. We were chatting, as old friends do, and she suggested lunch, which I gladly agreed on.

Then she said, “ I hear that the supply of oysters is supposed to run out next week. I think we should run out and get some before they  totally run out.”

That brought it home. No more ersters?? Merde! It’s hard to comprehend.

I think that all of us in New Orleans—who aren’t on the front lines of the BP oil spill battle—have been hoping that somehow, the oil spill isn’t going to affect, really affect, our way of life. We seem to be floating on a thin bubble of denial, one that may be about to burst.

Now, I’ve never been a huge oyster eater, but every once in a while, I like to slurp down a cold dozen. I think the best raw oysters I can remember ever having were at Visko’s, a restaurant on the West Bank, which is now closed. Don’t know if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol, but I remember it as the coldest, saltiest, fattest, most flavorful oyster I ever ate in my life. This was at least 30 years ago. I’ve since become addicted to Drago’s char-broils on the half shell, and have enjoyed dozens of them with friends. They are that good.

How can we ever replace our oysters? If nothing else, the days of cheap dozens could very, very soon to be a thing of the past. It’s one thing when something you love to eat slowly becomes harder to get. Like shrimp, for example. I remember days when my dad and grandfather used to drive to Lafitte to buy shrimp and came home with huge coolers full of big fat shrimp that we’d boil with the standard seasonings, potatoes and corn and throw out on the table a la a crawfish boil. Except these weren’t picnic tables of mudbugs; they were piles of fresh, hot cooked huge shrimp. Can you imagine? Those days are gone. Now we may have to scramble to get an oyster fix, and it may cost us dearly.

Oh yeah, and shrimp may be endangered too.

The worst part is not knowing how this damn oil spill is really going to affect us all.

Now that’s being mighty selfish on my part, because I love to eat, but I think about all the restaurants, the workers, the fishermen and families who are going to be affected. It’s horrifying.

When Katrina struck, our culture bearers were damaged and scattered in a diaspora all over the country. Many have come back, but it’s almost five years since the levee break, and we’re still struggling to hold onto the musicians we have, and the culture we almost lost forever.

BP and its cohorts and the government officials who have endangered our Gulf Coast, our seafood industry, our way of life, and the very fragile nature of our coastline need to be held responsible for this tragedy.

In the meantime, I suggest you head to the First (hopefully not the last) New Orleans Oyster Festival, and the Louisiana Seafood Festival/Vieux-To-Do, and eat up, while you still can.