Monkey Shines

November 5, 2008

After all was said and done, this was quite an experience. The power in my house was off for almost three weeks. I had no telephone service or internet connection for over a month. The office was closed for over two weeks.

I’d like to share with you what I learned.

I will never buy scented candles again. Vanilla in the kitchen, lavender in the hall, fern in the bathroom, peppermint in the bedroom, rose in the sunroom – after a while, I was reeling. A friend in New York City suggested I buy Shabbat candles because they last a long time and have no scent. She said it like I could just go to the grocery and pick them up off the shelf. This is Houston, people. I can’t even get people in my grocery to speak to me in English.

Next, DO NOT re-arrange furniture. I moved things away from the windows to protect them from Neil Frank’s flying glass. Let say the power is out and the entire world is dark. You need to go to the bathroom. It will take more time to get there if you trip over an ottoman and roll into a couch.

If you tape the windows with masking tape, you need to remove the tape as soon as possible after the storm. If you don’t, the sun will heat up the adhesive on the tape making a big mess. To remove it, you will need rolls of paper towels, safety razors, Goof-off and patience. You will also need to ensure that inquisitive dogs stay outdoors. Otherwise they will get the discarded tape all over their feet and freak out. Picture this – me on a ladder with a safety razor and an open bottle of Goof-off with a 65 pound Rhodesian Ridgeback tap dancing under the ladder. It’s a no-win situation.

Buy a celestial map. After the storm, when the clouds finally cleared away and all the lights in Houston were off, it was possible to see all the stars. Dear Lord, where did they all come from? My old pal Orion, who hangs outside my back door all winter long, was no where to be found. All these other stars were surrounding him. I couldn’t even find the Big Dipper. Jane and I did manage to find the moon one night. We tried to take pictures with my camera. She’d been into the scotch and I’d been into the tequila. Apparently alcohol impedes the camera’s ability to focus.

Stock up on bug spray and Neosporin. Immediately after the storm, I had to be thigh-deep in water to unclog the culvert that runs under my driveway. It was jam packed with branches and leaves. Fire ants have this interesting habit of clinging together to make ant islands in floods. Interesting, that is, until the island lands on you. Pity my neighbors. They had to watch as I jitterbugged across the lawn flinging wet, ant-covered clothes along the way.

Buy a policeman’s holster. I am not an organized person to begin with. I pick things up and put things down without a thought. Once the sun went down and it was pitch-dark, my biggest problem was keeping track of my “stuff”. I need a holster with a place for my cigarettes, the lighter, my cell phone, the radio, the bug spray, the car keys and a flashlight. I can’t imagine how married people with children dealt with this fiasco. I was making myself crazy losing things. If someone else had moved my stuff, I would have had to kill them.

It is amazing how much can be accomplished when there is no distraction of internet or television. Normally, I get home from work, fix something for dinner, putz around on the computer, watch TV then fall asleep. During the three week period, while the power was out, my life was changed.
Every morning, I went to Jane’s house for cowboy coffee which she made by using an old glass percolator on the gas grill. We’d sit under the carport in the driveway and listen to the news on the radio until the sun was up. Then I would head home to work around the house. I cleaned out flower beds, trimmed trees, organized the garage, scraped out old putty and re-glazed windows. I cleaned. I organized. I worked my butt off. Once the sun headed toward the horizon, I grabbed a book and settled into a lawn chair to read until it was too dark to see the words. Then I’d move inside to read more by candlelight. I read and read and read – a biography of the Japanese master potter, Shoji Hamada; the David Sedaris’ autobiographical short stories “Naked”. Others I cannot even remember. I’ll bet I finished a book every other day. I also spent quality time friends and neighbors. My friends, Maryanne and Kennon, have a natural gas generator. Most nights, Jane and I headed to their house for dinner and a chance to see what was on the news. As soon as the power came back on, I was back to my old tricks.

Last, I found out what an amazing group of people I work with.

The hurricane left us temporarily without an office because power was out and the building had been damaged. The building management could not tell us when we would be able to come back, so we needed a plan.

First and foremost, the partners decided to pay everyone for the first week we were out. The news was filled with stories of people who had lost their jobs and were in dire straits. Our associates were covered.

We found temporary space for some of us in a fancy-schmancy downtown law office. The problem was – how would we get the equipment there. We put out a call asking for help. Twenty-five Call Center associates and legal assistants showed up early Thursday morning to haul equipment down six flights of stairs in a building with no lights and no air conditioning. Some of these people made six trips up and down the stairs in the heat. Amazing.

We fully intended to be back on our building by the second week, but once again building management told us the building was not habitable. The partners stepped up to the plate once again. We organized volunteer opportunities with a number of organizations. Everyone who volunteered was paid for the time they worked. Amazing.

It’s been two months since Ike was here. In some ways, it seems like a dream. I consider myself to be very lucky. My friends, family and co-workers all survived with minimal damage. We got through it with a sense of humor and some good hard work.

One thing I will say. The next time there is a hurricane, I am moving to Alaska.