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Living in California is a brave thing to do, I’m convinced Any time the ground around you could break into pieces, but residents seem so indifferent of this threat that the ground they stand on could take their lives down at any moment. Still, I don’t consider myself brave for taking the interstate highway Although it appears to be a death trap featured on the news each day In just a few seconds of a driver’s inattention, a swerve to the left or right My life could be wiped away, no more than a mention at ten tonight. I guess we all take our chances and live wherever we end up living We manage to rationalize our risks as mere statistics, and of them we’re forgiving. We rearrange our thoughts to ensure we don’t go around afraid every day I’m in a place where our big yearly threats are mainly hurricanes. It’s hard to say if my preference for this particular kind of threat is more a function of familiarity or whether it is a natural consequence of anxiety over not seeing the disasters that may be coming my way Maybe it is a combination of both. I don’t know. But I know we see hurricanes coming earlier than tornadoes. For earthquakes just happen without a second’s advance notice and tornadoes give a couple minutes, maybe, but it might not be that helpful if to those out there driving about their day-to-day business – out in the open. Hurricanes, on the other hand, provide days in advance to follow their track and to take their threat seriously! Shutter up the windows, stock up on supplies, and get out of town if we can! We scramble for plywood and gas as we recall ones that hit hard in the past. And maybe people in other places don’t want any part of that nonsense I accept as part of my coastal home in a hurricane path. Where each year we are slowly terrified for at least a week, being told of a disaster that may or may not even happen, which may destroy everything or maybe not anything we have. We hope only that all we lose in the end is all that time spent preparing to evade a deluge of nature’s anger flattening all in line, not an innocent sparing its rage Hoping the next morning it is all back to business Cleaning and inspecting the damage and its practical implications No, a lot of people in other states would not like this But I have lived here so long I know no different Than to appreciate how these hurricanes give us hints of their possibly devastating next visits. And wonder how people in other places can stand disasters that are so unkind As to not let them know their tentative plans in advance of the night they might arrive. Meanwhile I drive the interstate highway and simply accept that it is better than any other choice I have. I live where I live, and my world’s imperfect features I must forgive. Disasters are so common, and the statistics seem to me to say Nothing will happen to me today, so I go on my way unafraid. And I figure we all are just living where we live and believing that we will never be an oblivious victim, but rather a fleeting resident of where we are and where we should be We’d be fools to try to move away to a more favorable could-be tragedy. So I’m glad that where I am is the place where I went. And it doesn’t matter the disasters its placement portends. For no matter where I am, I’m ninety percent more likely to die of a heart defect than any potential hurricane or car accident, according to the statistics I’ve read.

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At Least We See It Coming

Living in California is a brave thing to do, I’m convinced Any time the ground around you could break into pieces, but residents seem so indifferent of this threat that the ground they stand on could take their lives down at any moment. Still, I don’t consider myself brave for taking the interstate highway Although it appears to be a death trap featured on the news each day In just a few seconds of a driver’s inattention, a swerve to the left or right My life could be wiped away, no more than a mention at ten tonight. I guess we all take our chances and live wherever we end up living We manage to rationalize our risks as mere statistics, and of them we’re forgiving. We rearrange our thoughts to ensure we don’t go around afraid every day I’m in a place where our big yearly threats are mainly hurricanes. It’s hard to say if my preference for this particular kind of threat is more a function of familiarity or whether it is a natural consequence of anxiety over not seeing the disasters that may be coming my way Maybe it is a combination of both. I don’t know. But I know we see hurricanes coming earlier than tornadoes. For earthquakes just happen without a second’s advance notice and tornadoes give a couple minutes, maybe, but it might not be that helpful if to those out there driving about their day-to-day business – out in the open. Hurricanes, on the other hand, provide days in advance to follow their track and to take their threat seriously! Shutter up the windows, stock up on supplies, and get out of town if we can! We scramble for plywood and gas as we recall ones that hit hard in the past. And maybe people in other places don’t want any part of that nonsense I accept as part of my coastal home in a hurricane path. Where each year we are slowly terrified for at least a week, being told of a disaster that may or may not even happen, which may destroy everything or maybe not anything we have. We hope only that all we lose in the end is all that time spent preparing to evade a deluge of nature’s anger flattening all in line, not an innocent sparing its rage Hoping the next morning it is all back to business Cleaning and inspecting the damage and its practical implications No, a lot of people in other states would not like this But I have lived here so long I know no different Than to appreciate how these hurricanes give us hints of their possibly devastating next visits. And wonder how people in other places can stand disasters that are so unkind As to not let them know their tentative plans in advance of the night they might arrive. Meanwhile I drive the interstate highway and simply accept that it is better than any other choice I have. I live where I live, and my world’s imperfect features I must forgive. Disasters are so common, and the statistics seem to me to say Nothing will happen to me today, so I go on my way unafraid. And I figure we all are just living where we live and believing that we will never be an oblivious victim, but rather a fleeting resident of where we are and where we should be We’d be fools to try to move away to a more favorable could-be tragedy. So I’m glad that where I am is the place where I went. And it doesn’t matter the disasters its placement portends. For no matter where I am, I’m ninety percent more likely to die of a heart defect than any potential hurricane or car accident, according to the statistics I’ve read.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things