Run in circles, scream and shout?
by Cassondra Murray
We humans are a tough lot when faced with disaster. Or at least, we used to be.
I’m not so sure nowadays. Especially after the past couple of years and the disasters that have slammed the Midwest and southern United States.
Nine years ago, when we bought our present house, I went to the local rural electric co-op to get the power transferred to my name. The lady behind the customer service desk was what I affectionately (usually) call a Q-tip. A tiny little lady with a tuft of very white hair trimmed into a short, fuzzy haircut.
This particular Q-tip looked at me and squished her mouth into a tight circle. It was THE LOOK. The one that makes you feel like you’re in third grade and you’ve just been called to the principal’s office. She sat behind her desk and looked back and forth from me to the paper in front of her, first over the top of her reading glasses, then through her bifocals, determining whether I should, or should not, be deemed worthy of electricity.
She read from the paper, “It shows here that the address is..,” blah blah blah, she went on with the details, and finally ended with “and there is a pole in place on the property, with a transformer and a security light rented from us for $5 a month. By signing here, you agree to continue paying for use of the light.”
“There’s no security light on the property,” I said.
“Yes, there’s one on the pole,” she said, “It says so right here.” She pointed with her pen. “The previous owner had it for two years.” Her face got sort of crooked. Oh, wait. That was a smile. A sign the paper and go away smile.
“Nope,” I said. “There’s no security light on the pole.”
“The pole is outside the house,” she said. “You’d have to go outside to see it.”
Duh.
“Ma’am I know precisely where my electric service pole is, I’ve looked at it, and there’s no light. Just your ordinary, everyday transformer.”
“You probably just didn’t notice it,” she said, and shoved the paper to my side of the desk.
“I would notice a security light on my pole,” I said. “We specifically moved out of the city limits so we would see stars, not security lights. I don’t want a security light, and I made sure there isn’t one. Not even one with a burned-out bulb.”
“You probably didn’t recognize it.” She tried harder to smile. “There’s a lot of stuff up there.”
By this time the entire office was watching. I took a deep breath and knew the truth. They thought I was stupid and clueless. Because they think all of their customers are stupid and clueless. That’s the way it is now when you deal with utilities or anything even remotely technical. I sat in the chair and pulled it closer to the front of her desk and set my purse down. I propped my elbow on the desk.
“I grew up in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky on a barely-gravel road,” I said. I can castrate a bull, milk my own cow, make my own butter, and if necessary, build a barn. When I was eight years old and lightning hit the power poles, my dad taught me to go out there, look up at the transformer with a flashlight, and figure out whether the breaker was thrown so I could tell the power company whether it was just us or the whole neighborhood.” I leaned forward a little. "Eight. Years. Old." I shifted the paper ever-so-slightly back toward her side.
The Q-tip’s forehead creased into a bunch of wrinkles. I shoved my purse out of the way and leaned across the desk. “Pay a truck and a crew to drive twenty miles to tell you this, or just believe me, I don’t care, though this is a co-op and it’s my money you’re wasting. I’m not an idiot, I know what a light looks like and there is no light on that pole.”
The Q-tip sat back in her chair. What was this? A customer armed with knowledge beyond the free-gift choice at the Macy’s Elizabeth Arden annual makeup event? Shocking.
She reached for her phone. She called someone unseen. Ten minutes later, I walked out of there with electricity and no surcharge for a non-existent security light, thank you very much.
But I walked out with a heavier heart. My heart grows heavier each time I have to call the phone company about our DSL service, or the water company because they read the meter wrong, and I have to go through half an hour of “you're too stupid to recognize that your toilet has turned into Niagra Falls," before they’ll actually agree that something is wrong. I had to do this just recently, and each time, the experience gets worse. It becomes more of a “we know all and you know nothing” exchange.
Are they right? Am I the last of a dying race? Have most people truly become clueless, and what’s worse, helpless? This does not bode well.
We got slammed with one of the worst ice storms we’ve seen here a couple of weeks ago. It was below zero degrees Fahrenheit. We had no phone, no internet, no cell service, and no power. Thousands of people are still without power, and we’re having more bad weather. It’s getting cold again.
Stuff happens. Hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, fires and floods. The people of Kentucky are proving to be fairly resilient. People are, by nature, survivors. I tend to believe that if you treat people as if they have ability, most of them will rise to the occasion.
I come from a line of tough folks. Farmers. I’ve always been prepared for the disasters that normally happen around here.
When I was a kid, we had a wood stove in the basement. The shelves were packed with canned food and milk jugs filled with emergency water. We had a well, but the pump required electricity, so we had a backup supply in case the power went down. When the forecast called for bad weather, my folks stored up extra.
About fifteen years ago we had another major snow/ice storm. I lived in a different house then. I heated with wood. I cooked on that wood stove, used my collection of antique oil lamps, and we stayed cozy until the power came back on. We had batteries, emergency supplies, a chainsaw, and chains for the car tires.
It’s just the way I was taught to be. Prepared. And I was.
Until THIS house, that is. We almost didn’t buy this house because it didn’t have a
basement. I feel at risk without, at the least, a cellar to store root veggies in, and to use for shelter from tornadoes.
It’s interesting to me how different parts of the country prepare in different ways. Some of my California buddies are freaked out by the very idea of a tornado. I wouldn’t have a clue how to prepare for a hurricane, or how to deal with an earthquake, but tornadoes? Meh.
The wildfires that are pounding Australia and the folks down under may be the most devastating disaster of all because there’s very little the average person can do, but still….wherever I am, I don’t want to be helpless. Or clueless.
There's a picture down on the left of Sam, a koala saved by one of the Aussie firefighters. I couldn't help putting it on the blog. One bright spot in a horrible situation.
This house--our present home-- is dependent upon electricity. During the ice storm I had to shut my house down, schlepp my houseplants down the road to the neighbor’s, shut off the water and leave. We stayed with the neighbors who had power. But I hated leaving and I hated not being better prepared. I’m uncomfortable being completely dependent on the power grid in order to stay in my home. It goes against my raisin’ I guess.
I had to leave the dogs, the cats, and Thor, the crow, in the cold house all day and night while we were gone. We came home three times a day to feed and water and check on everyone, but I hated it.
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by Cassondra Murray
We humans are a tough lot when faced with disaster. Or at least, we used to be.
I’m not so sure nowadays. Especially after the past couple of years and the disasters that have slammed the Midwest and southern United States.
Nine years ago, when we bought our present house, I went to the local rural electric co-op to get the power transferred to my name. The lady behind the customer service desk was what I affectionately (usually) call a Q-tip. A tiny little lady with a tuft of very white hair trimmed into a short, fuzzy haircut.
This particular Q-tip looked at me and squished her mouth into a tight circle. It was THE LOOK. The one that makes you feel like you’re in third grade and you’ve just been called to the principal’s office. She sat behind her desk and looked back and forth from me to the paper in front of her, first over the top of her reading glasses, then through her bifocals, determining whether I should, or should not, be deemed worthy of electricity.She read from the paper, “It shows here that the address is..,” blah blah blah, she went on with the details, and finally ended with “and there is a pole in place on the property, with a transformer and a security light rented from us for $5 a month. By signing here, you agree to continue paying for use of the light.”
“There’s no security light on the property,” I said.
“Yes, there’s one on the pole,” she said, “It says so right here.” She pointed with her pen. “The previous owner had it for two years.” Her face got sort of crooked. Oh, wait. That was a smile. A sign the paper and go away smile.
“Nope,” I said. “There’s no security light on the pole.”
“The pole is outside the house,” she said. “You’d have to go outside to see it.”
Duh.
“Ma’am I know precisely where my electric service pole is, I’ve looked at it, and there’s no light. Just your ordinary, everyday transformer.”
“You probably just didn’t notice it,” she said, and shoved the paper to my side of the desk.
“I would notice a security light on my pole,” I said. “We specifically moved out of the city limits so we would see stars, not security lights. I don’t want a security light, and I made sure there isn’t one. Not even one with a burned-out bulb.”
“You probably didn’t recognize it.” She tried harder to smile. “There’s a lot of stuff up there.”
By this time the entire office was watching. I took a deep breath and knew the truth. They thought I was stupid and clueless. Because they think all of their customers are stupid and clueless. That’s the way it is now when you deal with utilities or anything even remotely technical. I sat in the chair and pulled it closer to the front of her desk and set my purse down. I propped my elbow on the desk.
“I grew up in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky on a barely-gravel road,” I said. I can castrate a bull, milk my own cow, make my own butter, and if necessary, build a barn. When I was eight years old and lightning hit the power poles, my dad taught me to go out there, look up at the transformer with a flashlight, and figure out whether the breaker was thrown so I could tell the power company whether it was just us or the whole neighborhood.” I leaned forward a little. "Eight. Years. Old." I shifted the paper ever-so-slightly back toward her side.The Q-tip’s forehead creased into a bunch of wrinkles. I shoved my purse out of the way and leaned across the desk. “Pay a truck and a crew to drive twenty miles to tell you this, or just believe me, I don’t care, though this is a co-op and it’s my money you’re wasting. I’m not an idiot, I know what a light looks like and there is no light on that pole.”
The Q-tip sat back in her chair. What was this? A customer armed with knowledge beyond the free-gift choice at the Macy’s Elizabeth Arden annual makeup event? Shocking.
She reached for her phone. She called someone unseen. Ten minutes later, I walked out of there with electricity and no surcharge for a non-existent security light, thank you very much.
But I walked out with a heavier heart. My heart grows heavier each time I have to call the phone company about our DSL service, or the water company because they read the meter wrong, and I have to go through half an hour of “you're too stupid to recognize that your toilet has turned into Niagra Falls," before they’ll actually agree that something is wrong. I had to do this just recently, and each time, the experience gets worse. It becomes more of a “we know all and you know nothing” exchange.Are they right? Am I the last of a dying race? Have most people truly become clueless, and what’s worse, helpless? This does not bode well.
We got slammed with one of the worst ice storms we’ve seen here a couple of weeks ago. It was below zero degrees Fahrenheit. We had no phone, no internet, no cell service, and no power. Thousands of people are still without power, and we’re having more bad weather. It’s getting cold again.
Stuff happens. Hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, fires and floods. The people of Kentucky are proving to be fairly resilient. People are, by nature, survivors. I tend to believe that if you treat people as if they have ability, most of them will rise to the occasion.
I come from a line of tough folks. Farmers. I’ve always been prepared for the disasters that normally happen around here.
When I was a kid, we had a wood stove in the basement. The shelves were packed with canned food and milk jugs filled with emergency water. We had a well, but the pump required electricity, so we had a backup supply in case the power went down. When the forecast called for bad weather, my folks stored up extra.About fifteen years ago we had another major snow/ice storm. I lived in a different house then. I heated with wood. I cooked on that wood stove, used my collection of antique oil lamps, and we stayed cozy until the power came back on. We had batteries, emergency supplies, a chainsaw, and chains for the car tires.
It’s just the way I was taught to be. Prepared. And I was.
Until THIS house, that is. We almost didn’t buy this house because it didn’t have a
basement. I feel at risk without, at the least, a cellar to store root veggies in, and to use for shelter from tornadoes.It’s interesting to me how different parts of the country prepare in different ways. Some of my California buddies are freaked out by the very idea of a tornado. I wouldn’t have a clue how to prepare for a hurricane, or how to deal with an earthquake, but tornadoes? Meh.
The wildfires that are pounding Australia and the folks down under may be the most devastating disaster of all because there’s very little the average person can do, but still….wherever I am, I don’t want to be helpless. Or clueless.
There's a picture down on the left of Sam, a koala saved by one of the Aussie firefighters. I couldn't help putting it on the blog. One bright spot in a horrible situation.This house--our present home-- is dependent upon electricity. During the ice storm I had to shut my house down, schlepp my houseplants down the road to the neighbor’s, shut off the water and leave. We stayed with the neighbors who had power. But I hated leaving and I hated not being better prepared. I’m uncomfortable being completely dependent on the power grid in order to stay in my home. It goes against my raisin’ I guess.
I had to leave the dogs, the cats, and Thor, the crow, in the cold house all day and night while we were gone. We came home three times a day to feed and water and check on everyone, but I hated it.
Not gonna happen again if I can help it. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but next time I want to be self-sufficient, at least for the short term.
I refuse to let the Q-tip and her ilk be right. At least she won't be right about me.
What about you?
What about you? What kinds of disasters strike where you live?
Have you lived through any?
Some people are more high-maintenance than others of course, but what type are you? Do you know what to do, and how to handle things when they need handling?
Have you lived through any?
Some people are more high-maintenance than others of course, but what type are you? Do you know what to do, and how to handle things when they need handling?
Can you turn off your water? Do you know how to shut the power off to your house?
When the going gets tough do you get going? Or do you get going to the nearest hotel with pool and day spa? (Hey, I'm not knockin' it. A hot tub was sounding pretty darn good mid-week of the ice storm.)
How long could you survive at home without electricity? Know any tricks or tips?
How long could you survive at home without electricity? Know any tricks or tips?
What do you do to be prepared?
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