My Sunday Feeling

This was the scene in my backyard yesterday morning around 9:30 or so. The sleet and the freezing rain that had been predicted hit the Central Arkansas area earlier on about 5. The People’s Republic of Hillcrest awoke to a brittle blanket of white over it. Although the early morning was utterly silent, by nine or so I noticed that the sidewalk in front of my house had started to melt. Around that time a friend called to say that he had driven from his house over by the river to St. Vincent’s Infirmary down by me to check on an elderly friend. He said the roads weren’t too bad.

By noon the precipitation was mostly over. The mailman came by and reported that most of the streets were indeed passable. He opined that the warmth of the ground from the crazy winter we have had combined with the rapidity with which the front had blown through had resulted in a milder assault than what we were prepared to endure. We both agreed that we had dodged a bullet.

Dodged a bullet. I heard that phrase over and over in e-mails and telephone conversations. None of us around here will ever forget what happened in 2000 or 2001 when this area was out of commission for about a week or so. Some people did not have power for over 2 weeks. Folks stayed in hotel rooms or with friends or relatives that did have power. People bathed and took meals at the Racquet Club once it fired back up. I will never forget seeing the service trucks from places as far away as New Jersey and Florida going up and down Van Buren. God, what an awful time. God forbid we ever get struck down like that again.

So, if the worse that happens is that we are forced to stay inside for a couple of days, what the hell. Could be worse. Buddy, you need to just look to the South to the Gulf Coast if you think you got it rough just because you can’t get to Oaklawn for President’s Day.

Actually, it has been pretty nice. Even though the streets are passable, there is no point in driving if you don’t have to. So, I found myself catching up on things around the house, paying bills, trying to figure out why the goddamn flash for the Nikon keeps going into “standby mode” when I am in the middle of shooting stuff, that sort of thing. This is an amazing time to be alive. I heard from friends near and far via phone calls, text messages and e-mails. I repeatedly checked the blog run by the Arkansas Times to see what was going on. Folks posted from all over town to report on road conditions, restaurant closings, and to tell how they were passing the time.

From what I can tell, everybody was eating pretty good! Most of the bloggers reported that they were taking advantage of the time indoors to serve up hearty fare such as soups and brownies. We are evidently a hardy bunch when it comes to grilling. Despite the bitter cold, there were many reports of steaks and tenderloins being prepared out on the deck. Of course, most of these grillmeisters admit that they were assisted in their efforts by healthy doses of bourbon and wine.

What fun. All of these anonymous folks, some of whom I probably know, some I undoubtedly don’t, all checking in with one another from the warmth and comfort of our respective homes, just to see how people were coping with the storm and to reassure one another that everybody was ok.

As for me, I opted for chili. I love chili when it is cold. I could almost eat it everyday. J came for dinner and she insisted upon walking over here from her house over by the church. Being a law enforcement person, she has a healthy respect for automobiles, inclement weather and the use of alcohol. I have to admit that she is correct in this regard. I also admit that I was secretly glad that she and not I were making the trek. I am hopelessly accident prone and the last time I walked over to a woman’s house for supper under conditions such as these I wound up with bruised ribs after falling while stone cold sober. The damn things still hurt after a round of golf or after playing tennis. Indeed, my legendary clumsiness prompted pleas from both my brother John and my Mississippi friend Marge that I not venture outside until the temperatures got above freezing. Although I think that they are overreacting, I accept the larger point: why borrow trouble again?

Soon after she got here, the house was full of the smells of chili powder, paprika and onions. She had a glass of Shiraz while I opted for a shot of Knob Creek straight up. Georgia and Vanderbilt were on TV. Georgia was getting whacked. She was tolerating that. But if Vanderbilt ever beats Georgia in football, she will lay down and die on the spot. She and a couple hundred thousand of the Bulldog faithful, that is. Good thing for everybody concerned that there’s not much chance of that happening.

All around us was silence as we sipped our drinks (damned if there’s anything better than bourbon on a bitterly cold night) and enjoyed the game. All around us were other smells: of wood burning chimneys and steaks being grilled by hardy bourbon drinkers. It seemed like the whole world stayed home last night. It seemed as if, for just one night, the whole world was safe and warm.

Kurt Vonnegut had a favorite uncle who used to say at times like these, “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” Actually, it is better than nice. It is a blessing to have food to eat. It is a blessing to be warm and to have a roof over your head. It is a blessing to be strong enough to walk in the cold. And it is a blessing to have people that love you enough to check in to see if you are ok. The pitchers and catchers have reported to spring training. That means spring is around the corner and an end to the cold. That also means that soon I will get to see my baseball kids again. Those are blessings too.

We take so much for granted. We take each other for granted.

Yep. To paraphrase Mr. Vonnegut’s uncle, if I ain’t blessed, I don’t know who is.