Saturday, November 3, 2012

Disasters Come In Different Packages


Hello, Sandy.  Goodbye all plans for the next two weeks.  Yes, what you see at the top of this post is just a glimpse of what the hurricane that hit the US eastern seaboard this week did to my northwest New Jersey community. That’s the road between the state two-lane highway and my farm.  There were four places just like this along my road, all blocked with down trees, and I cut away enough to squeeze my pickup truck by and out onto the paved road.  I had no choice.  I had a houseguest I’d promised to get back to New York City in time to catch a plane back to Athens.  My Greek publisher decided on her way back to Greece from San Francisco that it would be nice to spend a few “quiet” days in the country.

Her visit started off quite lovely with breakfast at the local diner (owned by a Greek, of course) followed by a most memorable prelude to her wished for “quiet” time: wind, rain, wind, BOOM, rain, wind CRASH, rain…and so on.  When quiet finally came the following morning, it was accompanied by no power, no phone, no Internet, no generator.  And with two million people in New Jersey without electricity, I can assure you that living as I do at the end of a long road in the most sparsely populated part of the state, with a down power line somewhere in the middle of the woods that serves only my home, this fella will be the very last soul in New Jersey to go back on the grid.

But I expected that. What I didn’t expect was for my generator to go on holiday for Halloween. A real trickster that old &^%$.  But it does pay to do business with locals.  The next morning the owner of the company that installed the generator and his technician hiked the quarter-mile in from the highway, through the rain, carrying a new battery.  Then they hiked it again later that day to bring in something else they needed to repair it.  They’re now on my permanent good guys list.

As long as I have power I’m happy.  I don’t mind the fallen trees—as long as they don’t take out a structure—it’s why I have chainsaws.  In fact, I love my chainsaw.  It’s a very sophisticated editing tool—with a mind of it’s own, so be careful.  But unlike Scrivener, you can’t take a snapshot to save what the story was before you cut.  You can’t change your mind (or regrow a limb of any sort) once you cut.  So be careful with your edit and be happy with it. 

I made it back to NYC late Wednesday night, an easy thing coming from the west, an impossible journey from the east, and my publisher made her plane on Thursday.  I went back to the farm Friday morning to deal with the mess Sandy left (no, not my publisher, her name is Aikaterini). Here are some photos of two mega-Norway spruces that narrowly missed taking out part of my barn.  One was almost Rockefeller Center Christmas tree size.  Yes, it could have been a contender.  Alas, such disasters are part of the natural order of things.

Which brings me to another sort of disaster, and a (brief) rant triggered by Greece’s inimitable Aegean Airlines Miles&Bonus frequent flyer club.  Not only are they inept, their consumer relations skills are a cross between “the fine print says ‘buyer beware’” and “go f**k yourself.”  And God forbid if you should point out an error on their part, for you’ll never get a reply. You’re simply ignored. 

Thankfully, hurricane Sandy was a once-in-a-lifetime disaster.  But Star Alliance member Aegean Airlines’ frequent flyer club is proving to be a lifetime of disaster.

But this too shall pass.  I was assured of that Wednesday night by an oracle I found in the temple of Upper East Side establishments pictured below. Delphi wasn’t available.

JG Melon's
I feel better now.  Thanks for listening.


Jeff—Saturday

20 comments:

  1. Lucky that everyone is doing okay and survived without a disastrous end.

    We in Manhattan just got back power, hot water, phones tonight; they have been out since Monday evening. Not even cell phones were working here.

    Friends invited me to their apartment, which had hot water, electricity, etc., but I preferred to hunker down and read crime fiction with my flashlight and candle light.

    I have been singing odes to Thomas Alva Edison all week, and thinking about the generations before us in Europe and here, the poor communities in the U.S. today and those around the world, which still don't have electricity.

    Glad all is fairly well there, and that the rest will be repaired soon.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I second your thoughts on luck, Kathy. I had some refuges from south of 14th Street staying at my place for a few nights. Not sure they ventured back yet. Maybe now they're Upper East Siders:))

      Delete
  2. Jeff:

    Yrsa has been bringing strange things to Bouchercon for several years - pickled shark, flattened sheep's heads, sheep testicles pate. It is now time for the Murder is Everywhere men to stand up. I think you should bring your chainsaw to Bouchercon next year. It is nearly as dangerous as Yrsa's offerings, and very manly.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Stan, are you daft? Dare you think what our dear sweet Yrsa could do if she ever got her hands on my chainsaw!

      Delete
  3. Glad you're okay, Jeff. Trees are great as long as they stand up...
    My vote is you keep the chainsaw at home!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Michael, I always knew you were the more thoughtful of the award winning combo:)

      Delete
  4. Just got power back at 3:47 am. Today's NYT Headline: Hardship Strains Emotions in New York. It took us all week living in the dark and cold, but we did get a bit testy last evening. Let me know when you are back in the city. Please leave the chainsaw behind. Lawyers, even non practicing ones, have a bad enough reputation in this town.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My oh my, Annamaria, my little pal the chainsaw is taking a lot of hits this morning. I'll have to take it out for a walk now...to remove those trees pictured above. Hope it behaves after all this heat it's taking. I may even have to join the NCA to show I'm on its side.

      Delete
  5. BTW: only a Greek would serve pancakes and bacon with feta, oregano, and olives. And remember: my roots are in the city of Siracusa!

    ReplyDelete
  6. My daughter went to university there, GO ORANGEMEN.

    Oh, Siracusa. Sorry, all that breakfast cholesterol must have me a bit discombobulated. How could I ever confuse Sicily's delightful Siracusa with Syracuse University? Especially since my ex-wife's father hailed from Siracusa!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey! We decided we were cousins through MIE, a family I am proud to be part of. Now I find that your kids are my cousins too. What fun!

      Delete
  7. When all has been cleaned up, and chain sawed into neat little piles, your property will be as lovely as I imagine it was. New Jersey is an interesting state, in terms of topography, and scenery.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Yes, Lil, whenever that may be. The down trees in the top photo are no longer blocking my road, the ones on the fence by the barn were in midst of getting a haircut when (once) trusty chainsaw had to go to chainsaw hospital. It's trigger broke. Better its than mine.

    In time all shall be right with the world...long after the elections, though.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Being a Floridian for the past 21 years, my thoughts and prayers are with you all in the NJ/NY and other areas. I've weathered these and these are never easy to deal with, no matter how prepared you think you are. However, you are strong and will bounce back stronger than ever. Take care and know you all are not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Thanks, Glenn. I sincerely appreciate that. And, yes, I know we're not alone...beyond the two mice we found (formerly) scampering through the pantry this morning.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Same as Glenn… having survived a dozen Florida hurricanes (sometimes barely), I have an inkling what you're going through. Best to all.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Well, chainsaw or fallen trees or not, you all seem to have done well out in N.J. Here in NYC, just in my apartment building, two people had medical emergencies.

    One, a child, had to go 60 blocks via cab for a medical emergency, where the harried parents tried to find an open hospital, which took several attempts, since NYU and Bellevue had evacuated.

    Another friend, social worker, went to see an elderly client, and fell on unlit stairs. Ambulance would take four hours; poor people who had heart attacks in those circumstances.

    Those are real crises.

    Those of us without electricity, telephones, computers, phones, even cell phones, heat, hot water were inconvenienced and uncomfortable. I took advantage of the crisis to do nothing but read crime fiction.

    So, from my end all was pretty well. Friends bunked with friends who had power, hot water and food.

    ReplyDelete
  13. In my part of NJ, I'm used to having the power out for weeks. Storms tend to do that regularly. But for many, as you point out, this was far from regular and has changed their lives. A true tragedy that is not yet over.

    ReplyDelete