Life Change #15: Stop trashing the President (and wishing he would go away)

It may seem like piling on, given the time that has passed since we, err, elected our current president. After all, he has had serious spikes and swoons in his popularity, and surely there are some people left that really like him. His wife, maybe his daughters. His brother, his parents. They all still like him….they may even love him. They might even tell him so.

However, on the night that he was elected, or maybe a few days after that, when the courts decided he was president, I recall having a conversation with my sister. I said, in an utterly sad act of foretelling the future, that he would be the worst president ever. I thought I was employing a not so subtle act of hyperbole. Whether or not I really believed it or not is matter of some dispute, but somehow, I had serious reservations, and the president and I have had a pretty rocky relationship ever since. I really have no idea what he thinks of me…I doubt he would like me if he met me, because I would share with him, almost immediately the laundry list of missteps he has made since being elected…in fact, I might even go back further, and suggest his decision to run for president was ill conceived, as was his decision to enter rehab…he’d be doing us all far more good as a drunk.

And that is the crux of the matter. My tenuous relationship with the president is very one sided. I have no idea what he thinks of me, and quite likely, he thinks NOTHING whatsoever about me. And despite the fact that I share my opinions about him, with anyone who will listen and even several who don’t, I doubt it ever trickles down to him. IN other words, my criticisms are pretty ineffective. It feels good (at first anyway) to rant about his inattention to important stuff, while spending our blood and treasure on a war that seems intended to demonstrate some sort of perverse one-upmanship over his dad .

Perhaps this is his problem as well as mine. Perhaps he would be a better president if he heard and understood legitimate criticism about his leadership skills, such as they are. I am sure I could learn, over time, to present my criticisms without starting them with expressions like “you moron”, though at first, I am sure that would present a challenge. I’d also have to work hard to avoid swearing, since that is often the first type of word that comes to mind when considering the past several years. But whether it is me or someone else, someone needs to suggest to this person that he either get his act together or resign before more irreversible damage is done to our country. Of course, that is after a new vice president is in place.

Our nation has a long tradition of criticism, both thoughtful and acerbic. Political cartoonists have, since the inception of the republic, gently prodded and sometimes even savaged the leaders for their various ineptitudes. Free speech is a wonderful thing, and I will never forget how great it is that I can write how bad our president is without fearing a knock at the door. At least according to the kool aid I have been drinking.

In the case of THIS president during THIS administration, though, I feel he has gotten the best of me. I really feel like I took it personally, and it allowed me not only to get down on him, but down on a lot of aspects of our country, our society, our culture. Even sitcoms don’t seem as funny to me as they did during previous presidencies. After several years of optimism that maybe the government can better represent the people of our country, I have become disenchanted, and deeply suspicious of anything that done by our leaders. Whether it is sending our young people to die in the name of lower oil prices, or suspending civil liberties, or spending our country into further dept, pretty much every move they make is wrong, and I wonder if our children will grow up with a profound sense that the government can’t be trusted. Will that spell the end of our democracy? I know it seems like an overreaction, but nothing lasts forever. We have learned that football teams can change cities, tall buildings can fall to the ground, and nuclear reactors can melt down. Everything is prone to decay and destruction--even once proud democracies. Just writing those words scares me.

So ineffective and troubling has this president turned out to be, it has had another odd impact...it has brought the election season upon us much sooner than we bargained for...which of course means we will have to endure it for that much longer. All those states that couldn’t wait to get their primary underway—I know there are other factors, but at some level, I can’t help think that there is a subconscious need to simply move on....and move past “this”. As I watch analysis on TV, I am struck by the odd sensation that he is already gone....sadly, though, I know this is not the case...how much damage could he do in the next year? Oh, I think plenty. I have circled on my calendar a special date....1/20/09. Hope we get there safely.

As a child growing up in the sixties, it seemed that dissent was both more overt and more effective. People unhappy with their government marched in protest, or demonstrated on campuses. They carried signs, and burned draft cards and bras. They sang songs of revolution, or change and decrying the acts of the government. The government, in turn, drafted enemies lists, open fire on students, and eventually resigned in disgrace. Even if all the forces and reactions were unrelated, there was the sense that the populace had some power, some measure of control. It seemed that changes had come as a result of the actions of those who vote for the leaders, and the leaders were forced to follow. It was an era of effective dissent. 4o years later, the government has gotten good at ignoring dissent, and those of us who would dissent are ineffective. It is an era of silent, even pointless, dissent.

I am guilty of accepting this silence, as much as anyone. I have not bothered to pick up a sign, or march in protest, or even write a letter. I rant and rave every time I hear on the news that another soldier has been killed or each speech made that accuses those of us opposing the war as somehow unpatriotic. I shiver in anger every time a talking head shows up on TV saying how good a job this president is doing keeping us safe and trying to falsely describe our war sacrifices as keeping our democracy safe. (I do admit I am happier since I stopped ever turning on the FOX news channel....nothing there but blather anyway!)

So, next time I am inclined to hurl another epitaph at our clueless leader, I’ll simply swallow my words. To do otherwise only raises my blood pressure, and does little to preserve the democracy. I have only a few months to endure this life change, and then, perhaps if we manage to elect a responsible leader, I can return to appropriate dissent, mixed with occasional praise and perhaps at times admiration. I sure hope so. I’m just glad the vice president isn’t running...I am not sure I could stand an election season listening to his lies…

Update on Previous Life Changes :

Flossing takes less time than I used to think it did. Since I am doing it every day, it seems to get easier, less messy…guess I am getting good at it. I’ve gotten good exercise on about 65% of the days, perhaps less over the holidays, but that life change seems well on its way to being a bona fide change in habit. I’ve begun to notice that my baggy loose fitting clothes feel looser, though clothes that I would consider snug still seem snug…go figure.

Life Change #14: I Don’t Tell the People I Love, That I Love Them, Often Enough

There are many people that I really and truly love. I hope they know that…but if they do know it, I am sure it is because I have somehow shown them…I simply have never felt comfortable saying “I love you” as a close to a conversation, telephone call, or social situation. I know many people who do say it, and I think it might approach the sort of rote recitation of “How are you?” or “Have a nice day”. It gets used in so many circumstances that it loses, if not its meaning, at least the impact. Expressing love for someone ought to have some importance. I really wonder if it is good to “love” everyone. Doesn’t that sort of dilute the emotion for the important people in your life? I guess this is a matter for religious and philosophical scholars to wrestle with. For me, I wrestle with the fact that I need to make sure the folks that I really do love, get the idea.

While love is the purest, perhaps most profound feeling that a human being experiences, I realize, for me, I will never be able to “love” everyone. There is simply too much stuff about the world we live in that I don’t like, much less love, and someone has to take the blame…so by definition I don't love them, and so the folks doing stuff that I don’t love will never hear me say “I love you”. The folks dropping bombs on third world nations will never hear me say it. Nor will the idiots that throw beer cans out of their cars on freeway on ramps….don’t love them. I am none too fond of people that hold up liquor stores and steal car stereos, and drive tanks over defenseless villagers. But it occurs to me that in many instances, some one loves even the people that do these things, or perhaps not. Perhaps that is why they do those things. Perhaps some of the people that behave really badly do so because they never felt love and no one loves them, so they feel OK about holding up a convenience market, or spray painting expletives on freeway overpasses. Perhaps the absence of love creates some of this anti social behavior. Perhaps saying “I love you” can cure the world of some of its problems. Can it really be that easy?

I honestly feel love needs to be earned, but perhaps that is “trust”. Perhaps trust and love are related, though that would not really explain love at first sight, which is probably more akin to “lust”, but who’s counting---it feels good so how bad can it be? But love creates exceptions. I loved my children from the moment they were born…probably even before that, though it was far more abstract when they were riding around in the belly of my wife…but surely that does not mean you have to see someone to love them. I can love someone even if they are not in the room.

We are expected, though, to love our family...our husbands or wives, our children, our parents and siblings, even our pets. This kind of love is never earned, though I supposed it could be squandered. Even family members fall “out of love”…certainly husbands and wives do.

We love our friends in a totally different way. Our lives are made complete by the people that we love, and though our family comes upon us without too much insight or arrangement, we get to pick whom we call “friends”. In some ways, saying “you are my friend” is the most personal acknowledgement we can make. It is a willful choice, free of the complications of physical attraction, bonds of blood or even physical proximity. I have friends who I see only occasionally, but they are still people I count as friends. I also have family members (thankfully distant) that I would not call “friends”…and I wonder, do I love them if I cannot call them my friends?

Clearly a physical attraction is not necessary for love, though it surely helps when it comes to getting married and making babies. But I have women friends who I would not want to sleep with, that I consider friends, and by the same token, there are women I’d consider sleeping with far before I’d consider calling a friend. Love and sex are pretty clearly different things, and yet somehow related. We still refer to sex as “making love”. That can certainly lead to some perfunctory “I love you’s”.

Death seems to create an opportunity for abstract love. I still love my father even though he has been dead for many years. I understand and appreciate him a bit more with each passing day. I am sometimes amazed at how much he affects me even now, and most of the time, it is for the better, and for that I love him. Or is that appreciation? Or both?

And what about respect? Doesn’t love require respect? Can you really love someone that you do not respect? Once you lose respect for someone you love, doesn’t that also mean you love them less, if at all? Then again, I can respect someone without loving them...definitely. And I wonder, is lust simply love without respect?

When you add up all the factors it becomes a pretty complicated equation. At the risk of going all metaphysical, perhaps that equation is in fact the “meaning of life”...the unification of all the things that go into making a life meaningful. No doubt, love is an important part of a meaningful life.

Love then, takes some measure of trust, respect, appreciation, friendship, and can sometimes be amended by the presence of physical attraction or blood relationship. And, if we can choose our friends, doesn’t that mean we can choose whom we love?…and by definition, is it even possible to love everyone? I know people who profess to love everyone. I have heard it in church, at weddings, and funerals, and other visits to sacred events. I am not sure I believe it. So when I hear someone say I love you after every encounter, I am left wondering if that is true…can it be true? And if the words are so important, if love is such a vital part of our humanity, is it really a good idea to reduce it by overuse. If we even try to love everyone, how then do we separate our feelings for those who fail to meet the criteria described above…how do we elevate the folks we need in our lives just to get through the day?

On the other hand, it would be a shame if the people that I do love are unaware. That is a chance I should not take. So, even though I really try to show love through my actions, it won’t hurt to go ahead and say it. Of course, that creates a completely predictable and yet still surprising response….the incredulous stare. I have found if you do not tell someone you love them for long periods, and then you start again, they wonder what is going on. Wives wonder if you are having an affair, kids think you are weird, friends wonder if you are dying. It is not an easy transition and therefore requires an occasional explanation. My kids and wife know all about the daily changes I stumbling through, and so they give me a bemused smile and say “If you are going to say it, you really should mean it”….and that’s just the point. I do.


Update on Previous Life Changes:
As the grayness of a wet winter drags on, I am left to ponder how nice it would be to have to worry about sun block. Must confess, haven’t applied any in quite some time!

Life Change #13: I Do Not Floss My Teeth Daily

What a nasty habit…either way. Not flossing is apparently not a good thing, and flossing is a bit nasty as well, as we get up close and personal with the slime that resides between our teeth. We drag it out smudged onto a thread that squeezes between our teeth. Alas, I have run out of excuses! It used to be that flossing was sort of messy and somewhat uncomfortable (wrapping thread about your fingers and then pulling it tight so the circulation is cut off seems an odd practice). Flossing adds time to my daily preparation cycle that I did not have. After sleeping so late because I stayed up too late, every minute is important…but no doubt soon I will be well rested and turning in earlier (thanks to future Life Change #21: I stay up too late), I will have more time to floss…it is remarkable how everything is interrelated…or maybe it is predictable…anyway, I find it sort of fascinating.

Flossing is one of those habits that took an invention--or at least, a leap of faith. I can see rubbing on the teeth to clean off the scum…the “sweaters” as I have heard it called. American Indians used Manzanita leaves or something like that, and at the very least, a finger or small bit of cloth could be used…but floss…someone had to think that one up. I am going to ram thread into the gap between my teeth and see if there is anything there I should take out. I am going to do this between all of my teeth, and surely the first time it was done, the result was bleeding gums…how could anyone recognize this had therapeutic value? Creative dentists, I suppose.

I remember sitting in the dentist chair and reading that rather funny and at the same time horrific warning….”You don’t have to floss all your teeth! Just the ones you want to keep”. It was written on some chart showing you how to brush or floss and it sort of suggested that maybe there were other people who do not floss daily.

I have considered the alternative, and I guess I am not too keen on keeping my teeth in a glass of water by the bedside if I can avoid it. I remember there was just such a glass on either nightstand of my grandparents’ house. The water and the curvature of the glass made the teeth look strangely oversized. Monster teeth. I really do not want monster teeth.

I am a stop and start kind of “flosser”…I will floss for a few days, then miss a few, then floss a few….maybe 25-35% of the time I ram that waxy thread between my teeth, and the rest of the time, I simply don’t get to it. My dentist frowns and says, sort of patiently, and sort of irritated, “You really do need to floss EVERYDAY”. Pangs of guilt. I cannot even suggest a defense. I am a lazy fool, who is still sorting out which teeth he wants to keep.

Now of course, they have these little pre threaded loops that fit on a handle and make the wrapping around the fingers part unnecessary. It also makes angling the floss to get between the teeth easier (for me anyway), and it is certainly easier to throw away (the old floss seemed to sort of want to stay attached to your fingers and often wound up half in and half out of the wastebasket). But now, the little loop unsnaps and we drop it into the trash, perhaps insignificant, but I wonder how much more plastic will enter the waste stream because of these little loops of plastic…all in the name of my convenience. I consider reusing these little loops…and then take a look at the stuff that resides on the floss after I use it. Suddenly, the waste stream seems a better spot for this stuff…perhaps they will invent reusable loops that I can put my own floss on.

Flossing is one of those things that if you do every day, it seems to lose the sense of drama. A daily flosser (and I know folks who do it each time they brush…two or three times a day!) will have almost know reside on the floss…I know this because when I floss a lot, I note that the floss stays pretty clean….but the occasional flosser…now they get a lot of residue…they can really see they are doing some good. You just want to keep that from your nose….there is no joy in smelling that!

The one odd market niche is all the kinds of floss they make…waxed or unwaxed? You tell me, do I want wax? I don’t even know what the wax is for. Mint or plain? (mint seems ok, but really I am not trying to taste this stuff), but the greatest invention in the annals of floss is this sort of “teflon floss” that glides easily in between each tooth…not sure what took so long, but I frankly can’t imagine why they still make the other stuff….brand loyalty? Hard to muster much loyalty to waxy white thread in a plastic box?

I always wonder whether it is best to floss before brushing, thereby assuring a lot of grungy stuff on the stringy device, or if it is best to brush first and remove, (hopefully) all but the most clingy grime. I am typically someone who likes the gratification of seeing results, like mowing the lawn when the grass is quite long, but in the case of flossing, I really don’t need to see “that”. A leftover bit of food, maybe some plaque and tartar, and whatever else resides in our mouth. I really don’t even want to search for a name. I know it is slimy and does not smell good.
Some foods demand use of floss. Corn on the cob and barbecue ribs often produces compelling need for floss. Celery seems to have floss built into it, though I have never heard if it is good (or bad) for the teeth. Apples act as a sort of natural toothbrush/floss as well.

So, after not flossing in a week or so, today I begin the journey of being a daily flosser. I have set aside the time, and developed the mind set.

Update on Previous Life Changes:
As we passed through the holiday season and into the new year, I feel a bit like a ball rolling along that comes upon a gradual uphill climb....progress is bound to slow, and, perhaps stop altogether--for me it surely did. I seem to have lost enthusiasm at times for various “changes”. Swearing, as I predicted seems only marginally improved. I pretty much have mastered the toilet seat thing, and I feel at peace with low fat milk, brown sugar, and green tea. As the weather has cooled, my water intake has slipped---I really have to work at this-- and sometimes I don’t.

Life Change #12: I Consume Too Much Artificial Sweetener

Those of us who have a few extra pounds look for painless and effortless ways we can keep extra calories out of the diet, or at least we feel good thinking we are trimming some unwanted sugar out of what we eat each day. Hence the development of the little pink packet…All the sweetness, and no calories…how in the world do they do that? Artificial sweetener is a mainstay in canned soda, light juice products, and there are those of us who drink it daily in their coffee. However, since I keep a bowl of it handy to spoon into my coffee each day, I have had occasion to notice something ominous. I notice it kills ants.

Yep. If left to crawl into the bowl, and eat all they want of this stuff, they never make it out alive. They do OK if they find the sugar bowl, and certainly the cookies, pies and cakes they have found over the years did them no notable harm, but the saccharin seems to kill them. And I wonder, what is it doing to me?

I managed some years ago to give up diet soda, and in fact I seldom drink soda at all except when it is the only thing that is available…it is not really a health related things as much as a “like” thing. I simply don’t like soda as much as other alternatives. But I do enjoy my guilt free sweetened coffee. With the milk and sweetener applied liberally, the coffee becomes almost a dessert, and since the sweetness added no calories, it was easy to indulge without thinking too much.

The thing is, though, having something that sweet, with no calories, is a bit like getting something for nothing…sort of too good to be true, and nothing ever is. In the back of my mind there was this concern, faint at first but gradually a bit more forceful. “What is this stuff doing to me?”. Perhaps killing any ants that might live in my stomach (I imagine I might have eaten a few over the years!)

I considered the plight of the lab rat, force fed this stuff until tumors broke out all over its body, and though I would always write that off as an inordinate amount of the stuff (as if any normal person would consume a pound of the crap in a day), it does give one pause. Over time, I figured I might have eaten pounds of it, and maybe it was the cumulative effect as opposed to the amount eaten over a short period. I really don’t want tumors all over my body, but I also consider what it would be live to add all those calories to the diet over the years. Sure there are trade offs, and I cannot really sit here and sat which is right, but now, based on how I feel, it seems time to give up the pink packets and pull out the jar of Brown sugar. Still not sure why, but somehow “brown sugar” feels more healthful than “white sugar”. On this point, I know that I am wrong, but I do know that it seems I can use less of it, and the additional flavor it brings makes it seem sweeter, and so in that sense, perhaps it is healthier.

So why are sweet things bad for us, and yet we crave them? I sit important for nature to make things we crave bad for us? Seems like a rather unfunny practical joke. The only reason anyone ever thought to invent an artificial sweetener was because sugar was deemed unhealthy. For diabetics, it is surely more serious than that, but for most of us, sugar adds calories, and that leads to expanding belt lines. Sugar also rots teeth, makes children hyper, and probably stings if you get it in your eyes. But despite all that, sugar is in fact everywhere. From donut shops, to candy bars, in our desserts, our soda, and in most of the condiments we put on our steak or hot dogs. Clearly, despite any and all health concerns, we have a sweet tooth that needs attention. And eliminating sugar from the diet is a fairly daunting task.

Sugar dominates the landscape of our culture. Soft drinks take up more space on the grocery store shelves than any other product…typically an entire aisle….the only other thing that comes close is cereal. I’ll venture the unverified guess that sugar is a primary ingredient of most of those products as well. Ice cream takes up its share of space as well. Point is, like so many things that are not good for us, it seems that we are directed to consume them anyway. Sugar, tobacco, alcohol…gasoline. Who is in charge here?

I suppose sugar has to be somewhat bad for us just to make sure we eat our broccoli …I mean if sweet things were healthy, when would make space on the plate for brussel sprouts? Sugar is bad for us simply to make sure we maintain a balanced diet. Or so it seems to me.
So…what if you could devise a product that offered the same taste as sugar, didn’t attack your teeth or waistline, and diabetics could eat it without problems. Wow, talk about a better mousetrap. It seemed so easy!

Thing is, it’s not natural. Like anything else that is too good to be true, so too is the concept of the artificial sweetener. Sure, my teeth are better off, and who knows how fat I would be if all the coffee I have consumed over the past 20 years had sugar instead of little pink packets sweetening it. But the images of rats with tumors, coupled with dead ants in the bowl have finally given me pause. Hell, ants eat anything…they attack the pantry with gusto, eating cookies, corn flakes and pancake batter. They eat old watermelon rinds and apple cores in the compost pile. They devour dead mice and squished earthworms. And yet, this stuff—this sweet white powder in little pink packs-- kills them. Pass me the brown sugar.


Update on Previous Life Changes:
After a couple of rough days, I feel like I have gotten back on the horse, so to speak. Ands this is how I know things are different this time. In the past, a couple of setback days would derail any momentum, but this time it seems I knew it would happen and just sort of shrugged it off. Habits are bad because they are repetitive and diminish our quality of life in some way. But occasional occurrences are a tad different. IF I swear all the time, that is bad, if I swear occasionally, well, that is life. SO this past weekend, I sort of took a vacation from life changing moments, and that is over, it is Monday, and I am back.

Life Change #11: I Have Let Our Earthquake Survival Kit Fall into Disrepair

About once or twice a month, I get a little reminder that I live in Northern California, and though some may question the wisdom of that due to the cost of living, home prices, traffic, or the woeful public schools, the one issue that looms over all our heads with little or no solution is that each day we are drawing closer to a catastrophic earthquake. Happily, these reminders come in the form of a little jolt that simply gets the heart rate up, or awakes everyone from a sound sleep. But someday, I know, there will be a jolt that does more than frazzle nerves. There will come an earthquake that destroys buildings, roads and bridges, that breaks water and gas lines, and sadly, injures or kills people. In the back of my mind, I hope not to live here when that happens, but frankly, it could happen before I finish typing this page. If anyone could predict an oncoming earthquake, this might not be such a bad situation, but the uncertainty creates a distinct need for…preparation.

Like many folks in the Bay Area, I have an earthquake kit….stocked many years ago and probably more of a health hazard than a survival tool. I know it…I can see a telltale rust stain on the bottom of one of the translucent containers we store the kit in. It is time to open, and assess this earthquake kit. The survival of our family depends on it.

The containers are stashed in the far recess beneath a seldom used desk in my office. The building is separate from the house, and I figured if the house was destroyed or unlivable, this building would most likely still be standing. I am not sure when I last opened the box, but it must have been at least 10 years ago. I retrieve the first container; there are two, each about 18” by 30” and about 20" deep. Upon opening the lid, I am struck initially by the bad news that one of the water bottles sprung a leak…the water which would be so vital to our survival if the water service had been compromised in some way, had basically destroyed most of the stuff with in. Now it was reduced to a rather messy scrapbook of what I thought we needed when I initially stocked it

Apparently one of the 4 bottles of water had leaked , because 3 of them looked more or less sealed up, but the presence of water had rusted cans, and soaked everything else. Somehow, ants had gotten invited to the party, and even though they were not active now, there was evidence that thousands had breached the seal. IN addition to the water bottles, there was a Ziploc storage bag of dry cat food (our feline family members will also want to survive). The bag had leaked, and the food within was sort of moldy and not at all edible. There was an odd assortment of canned foods, and I tried hard to think about what was going through my mind when I placed them initially. There were several cans of mandarin oranges, I assume to ward off not only hunger, but also perhaps, scurvy. These cans fared poorly….the steel was either thin or vulnerable to rust, because these cans had leaked, apparently leading to the ants discovery.

There were perhaps a dozen diapers indicating at least one of our kids was a baby or toddler at the time, most likely my daughter The diapers seemed so small. It seemed like just yesterday that I was a young parent changing diapers, and learning the art of parenting on the fly. We had included some diaper rash ointment, a pacifier, and several jars of baby food. I pondered what might have been should we needed this survival kit in recent times. How might baby food have fit into our lives with my two teenage kids? What would we have used the diapers for? I wondered if we might be able to laugh about it despite serious circumstances. It sure seemed odd just now, throwing away damp diapers that never got used. The baby food was past its expiration date, so I tossed it out, but first scanned the labels. These must have been the kids favorites at the time….carrots, strained chicken, strained peaches…I used to come home after work, and sit and spoon this to them as they awaited each impatient bite. If they didn’t like it, there was that tortured “chewing” and then the pasted would ooze right back out of their mouth. Rejected. “Bring back the peaches, dad”, they would say without speaking.

I considered for a moment the pacifier. It was brand new, in an unopened package. I can imagine had an earthquake arrived while there was still a baby in the house, that a pacifier might be pretty important. Frayed nerves would only be made more so with the abject unhappiness of a baby, perhaps hungry, perhaps cold or hurt, with little a parent could do. Seemed a good addition. Wish they made these for adults. I though also of the nights when we could not locate the pacifier, when the need seemed so critical so that we could get some sleep, and all the while there was one right here. I am surprised it made it without a preemptive use on such an occasion.

There was some dry baby food cereal stuff made of rice…I remember mixing this in with the strained fruits or with milk to make a paste. It never looked or smelled too good, but the kids gobbled it. I must have been pretty focused on the needs of a baby. Much of the stuff in here was specific to a 1 or 2 year old. Would have been handy had the earthquake come the week after I packed the box.

And in truth, one did occur when our first child, our son, was only a couple of months old. We were living in a different house, and we had no earthquake survival kit, and there were many who wound up needing them. Before the earth had stopped shaking, I was in my car, racing home and ignoring all speed laws, as I made the 15 minute drive home in about half that time. I saw chimneys laying all over the road, so I dodged bricks, and traffic lights were out, so I snuck through intersections, avoiding freeways and main streets so I could dodge traffic. There were smoke plumes in various places, and the radio seemed to have unreal stories about collapsed bridges, buckled freeways, and apartment buildings on fire. The more I heard, the more quickly I drove. I had no cell phone, and land lines were either down or overloaded. The only way to know if everyone was OK was to go there and see for myself. For me and my family, the news was good. We had dodged a serious earthquake without benefit of an earthquake kit. We might not be so lucky the next time around. So soon thereafter, these boxes were packed.

The second box had some dry goods, and happily no water had leaked in to destroy things, though ants did find their way in, as did a handful of spiders, but nothing seemed to be alive in there any longer. There were the requisite Mylar reflective blankets, to ward off cold should it be winter. Some wash clothes and a couple of towels. I am guessing my wife was in charge of this box. There was a Swiss army knife, $40 in cash, several boxes of macaroni and cheese, as well as some dry cereal (Honey Nut Cheerios!) a couple of pairs of socks. A disposable camera, predating the advent of digital cameras, was stowed along side a box of kitchen matches. A camera is a good item to include, I congratulated myself. Documentation of human suffering, and more to the point, the resilience of humans would be valuable…even if not for me and my family, but for future generations. I recall seeing photographs following the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906, where the city hall dome was standing atop timbers, while everything around it was a smoldering ruin. That sort of tells the story pretty well, now that most survivors have long since passed away. Perhaps my little disposable camera would share similar stories with my children’s grandchildren. There was a tube of toothpaste, a bar of soap, and there were a handful of pictures and a list of phone numbers of important friends and relatives, near and far. Some of the relatives were no longer alive, and some of the friends had moved out of the area, or had not been seen in some time. As I sifted through the stuff that could be saved and sorted it from the stuff that needed to be discarded, the boxes became more like a time capsule than survival kits. This was what we thought was important 10 or 12 years ago. This was what we thought we needed. As conditions on the planet have devolved, some of the stuff seemed almost quaint.

There was a first aid kit, reminding me of the serious nature of the supplies stocked in there. There were dozens of band-aids, and not much in the way of medical supplies. This earthquake was hopefully just delivering some scrapes and bruises. There were a couple of instant cold packs, an ace bandage, and some aspirin. The was something labeled “first aid cream” and various and sundry gauze pads. I recall watching on TV during our last earthquake as they hauled broken bodies out of the rubble of fallen overpasses, and wondered if this first aid kit was sufficient.

I managed to place a Ziploc bag of coffee and some tea bags into the undisturbed box, and was curious about what 10 year old coffee grounds would taste like. I also wondered what I was going to brew the coffee in, but I did include some filters, so perhaps I had a plan. There were two flashlights, and two packages of batteries, as well as some candles, a note pad and several pens and pencils. In an envelope was some paperwork folded up. Birth certificates for the kids, a copy of my driver’s license, a copy of our homeowner’s insurance (very much expired) and our health insurance policy. There was a pack of gum (since we’d want clean fresh breath), as well as a handful of candy bars, and a picture book I recall reading to the kids when they were young. That might be comforting, I thought.

There were a couple of old sweatshirts and a blanket rounding out the provisions, and as I discarded the pork and beans and canned corn that looked too rusted to be appetizing, I started to consider how I might fill up an earthquake kit for today, for the post 9/11 world, when it might not be an earthquake that causes us to open this box for real. Should I include a gas mask? Duct tape to seal up doorways and windows. What about gasoline? Should I stow some sort of firearm in there? I don’t even own a gun, and pretty much oppose their use, but it occurs to me that seismic shifts don’t always occur below ground.

Now with the container empty and cleaned out, it was time to consider what to put back. Of course, the list would start with water…how much? What really constitutes enough water? How long will we be without it I wonder? I consider gasoline. I really don’t want to store gallons of gasoline at my house, but it does occur to me that one of the best things I could do in the aftermath of an epic earthquake is get the hell out of here. Drive eastward until the impact of the quake is no longer felt…like Wyoming. Of course, a 500 mile drive would mean keeping 20 or 30 gallons of gasoline…far more than I would think wise. I always think I should leave the car tanks full for the same reason, but that is way more trouble than it is worth. Guess we’ll be riding it out.

Since we will be sticking around, better have a flashlight or two and some batteries. A radio would be nice, but I don’t have one of those transistor radios that we used to have that we would carry around in our pocket and listen tot the World Series secretly at school when I was a kid. I think those took like two AA batteries. I wonder if they even sell those things anymore. We do, however, have three or four boom boxes...which take like 16 D batteries....probably be good to listen to the news, and wouldn’t hurt to be able to blast tunes...better leave a couple of CD’s in there just in case...that should take me about a year or so to figure out which would be the right music for the post disaster world we would be living in....”It’s the End of the World as we Know it” sounds about right.

What kind of food will we be eating? Since the advent of survival type shows on the Discovery Channel, Bear Grylls has show us that you can eat almost anything in a pinch...you can even drink your own pee if it comes to that (thanks, I’ll just pack in some water!). I began to weigh the various options....cans seem to rust (at least when water bottles leak all over them)...bottles and jars could shatter, and dry food needs water to become edible (which means storing more water). Will we be cooking? Will our current household staple, Macaroni and Cheese, be viable? I have so many questions about the apocalypse.
I finally decide that a blend of things might be the right tack. Some boxes of Mac and Cheese, some cans of beans, some applesauce, even some backpacking food that seems as though it might last forever (in part because no one actually wants to eat it!). Cereal...maybe some beef jerky....some Tang (remember the ongoing scurvy threat!)...some food for the dog and cats might be nice as well, though I flash momentarily on the prospect of eating that stuff given the direness of the circumstances...I wonder at what point the survivors get the short straw.

In the end, I realize that the central problem is that I want to stock it and forget it...but a real earthquake kit gets rotated about once a year....I wonder what habit needs to change to afford me that sort of discipline.

Update on Previous Life Changes (Day Eleven):

A wall, or sorts. A busy day, a general malaise, and for the first time since I started this little lab rat examination, I failed to find time to exercise. I think I did OK on everything else, but I was surprised at the mix of guilt and apprehension I felt when the day ended without the requisite exercising. I was frankly tired, and the thought of climbing aboard the elliptical was almost nauseating, so I decided NOT to push it and in hindsight, that may have been exactly the time to dig a little deeper. No pain, no gain, or so goes the adage.
The truth is, today notwithstanding, I am starting to feel the impact of all the changes I have made. I do not get tired running up and down stairs, I have adjusted to the low fat milk, my body craves water if I do not drink enough of it….even though we are only into he 11th day, some things are taking their place in my life. The more “gourmet changes” like cursing and toilet seat positioning are basically changes in mindset. I simply have to be present enough, in the moment, to see these changes through. I raally have not left the toilet seat up, and I believe I have not sworn for 3 days(though I have noted that I managed to curse in my “inner dialogue”, silently, and wonder if that counts…perhaps that will go away with time).