In 30 Seconds, You're Homeless

The sound and force of a freight train plows through your home at 165MPH, levels it and as quickly as it showed up the train leaves. Within seconds your life is changed, your belongings strewn for miles, it's dark, raining and you are homeless. Except it's not a freight train that ripped away your home, it was an F3 tornado. This is what happened in Millbury, Ohio recently. My girlfriend Sue lives in the neighboring town and the twister roared by a half mile from her home. After viewing the devastating pictures of the damage, I am eternally grateful she and her family are safe. Now it is time to grieve for the dead and help those who were injured or left homeless. Those who were lucky enough to escape the wrath of the twister are left to grapple with an array of emotions: relief, sadness, guilt, grief among others. Tornadoes are especially cruel when weighed against other natural disasters. They are selective on what they destroy. Just view the pictures of Millbury and see. One home is intact and the next door home is flattened to the ground. It is that indiscriminate characteristic of tornadoes that leads to the inevitable question: "Why me?" Is it a matter of luck, fate, God's will? It's none of those, of course. No matter how carefully we craft our lives, plan and organize them, life happens. There is a saying that states "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans". If the raw power of nature teaches us anything, it is that we do not have complete control over our lives. We are at the mercy of the unknown. Sometimes bad things just happen for no reason, not because of superstition, religion, punishment, karma or whatever other label our subconscious tries to slap on it. Accepting that the universe is chaotic and at times without rhyme or reason, is a concept I am coming to terms with. There is one word that sums up how to deal with the uncertainty life throws at us: Grace. And that is how the wonderful people of Millbury and surrounding areas are handling this disaster, with grace. To make a donation to the Toledo Red Cross Chapter, click here.

Random Thoughts

I'm starting a new entry on totally unimportant, useless thoughts and questions that pop into my mind. I figure if I release them into the world they will stop haunting me. Here's one that drives me batty:

Why do drive-up ATM's have braille on them?

Stay Away from the Chicken Farm

Ever smelled a chicken farm? No? Take my advice, stay as far away from the chicken farm as your VISA card will take you. Trust me on this. What about egg farms, you ask? Same as a chicken farm, as my olfactory senses learned last fall in western AZ. Don't worry, the only way you will end up in this far flung town is if you work for the largest nuclear plant in the country,..or the egg farm. Although the guy on the side of the main road as you head into town selling nuts would make a fortune selling gas masks instead. Seriously, bring a gas mask or an astronaut helmet. It seems like a charming, rural Arizona town with towering mountain ranges to the south and land as far as the eye can see. Charming that is, until this horrendous, indescribable pestilent smell creeps into your car's vents. At first you think it will pass, like skunk stink. Then it quickly floods your nasal cavity with a combination of salty, sulfuric and just plain nasty. As I gasped for a sliver of unpolluted oxygen, I hollered "what's that smell?" over and over as my seemingly oblivious husband looked over quizzically...until it hit him. How could such a sleepy, quiet town exude such a rancid aroma? The big, blue sign reading Hickman's Egg Farm said it all. That and the dead chickens across the street. Apparently, some of the smarter chickens tried to make a run for it, only to be killed by the loose dogs in a neighborhood yard. Why did the chicken cross the road? To escape slavery. As we reached the plot of dirt we drove out to see, I could not understand why anyone would live here. Miles away now, the offending scent was still quite present and as a backdrop, the majestic mountain range had a permanent cloud of low fog, a gift from the nearby nuclear plant. Oh, yes, and let us not forget the air horns visibly staked in the event of a nuclear meltdown. Really, what are the air horns for? To warn residents of impending death or permanent zombie hood when they clearly don't stand a chance of escaping?? Land is cheap out there and owning your dream ranch is attainable. I suppose someone needs to man the nuclear plant and I prefer locally grown eggs. But who knew chickens could emit such a foul odor? Disclaimer: I wrote this for you to laugh at my city girl silliness and chose not to name the town in question to protect the chickens.

Lighten Your Load

Ever notice how some people are constantly looking back? They live in coulda, woulda, shoulda land? Living in the past and wishing they'd done..whatever they didn't do? Don't you just want to scream "snap out of it!" I mean, who cares? Alright, my rant is over, whew, I feel better. If we are constantly looking back we will miss what is ahead and either, lose out on an opportunity, or hit a light pole. Don't get me wrong, we need to learn from our mistakes but why flog ourselves over it? Maybe I am missing that regret gene. Not being the most impulsive human probably eases the lack of regret. Not that I don't think being impulsive is fun, I've jumped into plenty of fountains in my time and even clambered over the balcony of a 9th story building once (to my defense I was only 10 and stupidly lucky). But regret is a waste of mind time and a depressant at that. Kicking old habits is not for the faint of heart, but kicking regret out of your consciousness will release you from your past. How to start? As one who lacks the regret gene, I can only speak from my personal vault. Think through major decisions and gather all the facts before jumping in. Apply the Golden Rule to EVERY action or inaction you take. Sprinkle kindness, patience and compassion on every person you encounter (even if it is not reciprocated). Live with passion yet restraint and see what lies ahead.