American Samoa, Indonesia, New Orleans, Haiti, or Chile.
Or Hilo in 1960.
I’ve become quite accustomed to my island in its not-topsy-turvy state, and I was just fine with not having an 8 foot tidal surge sweep through my living room, thank you. I’m also quite accustomed to having floors that do not fall out from under me or grounds that shake.
What I’m not accustomed to is the whine of people who complain about the inconvenience that the evacuation caused. I have zero patience for that. I had perfect clarity in establishing what was important and I was completely able to leave 99.9% of my material possessions behind. We woke up at 4 am and finished putting together our emergency packs, rolled up the rugs, and got most stuff off the ground. I was personally fine with knowing that I would definitely survive a possible natural disaster because I was given 7 hours warning. This is my 3rd warning about natural disaster while living in Hawaii, and 1 of those did follow through with water.
The whole episode reminds me of that Jim Gaffigan routine where he’s explaining how people in an airplane should be screaming for joy every second of the ride because, people, you’re flying through the air at hundreds of miles an hour in a freaking PLANE! Instead they are complaining about not being able to access wireless internet at 20000 feet.
Please conk me over the head and drag me back to the mainland if I even once become jaded about tsunami warnings. Please.
The scariest part of my day was driving up past scrambling hills. I had no idea a CRV could do such a thing.
We spent a very pleasant few hours up at Needles campsite, and Amaya loved every moment of it. She ran wild with the other 3-year-old up there, and Jake and I parked ourselves in perfect view of the point. We ate leftover pizza, chatted with the other evacuees, listened to Perry and Price on the radio, and read our books without one mosquito in sight. The temperature was a perfect 72 degrees with a slight breeze.
Thank goodness for modern technologies like tsunami warning systems. Without it, I would have no reason to feel entitled to my life. Inconveniences and all.
9 comments:
Whaaaaat!? We totally wish you lived in American Samoa. I think there's a category for those who are inconvenienced by friendly warnings to save their very lives: Darwin Award Contenders. So goofy. We're glad your prudence will keep y'all with us for a very long time.
so glad you guys are safe and so glad nothing happened in Hawaii. I'll put up with inconvenience any day
way to wait it out in style, jake.
Glad to see you're still alive. We're excited to see you and Amaya in a few weeks, wish Jake could come too, but at least we'll get to hang out this summer, right? I'm finally finishing up A Wild Sheep Chase. Pretty interesting stuff. We read one of his short stories in my Japanese class last week, "Dancing Dwarf" would be the title in English I supposed, remind me to tell you about it in Oregon. Let me know if you want me to bring anything from NuSkin. Loves.
i love the picture of buddy (that's his name right?), mat and the dog.
Was that jaded comment meant for me?
Smiths: If you had been playing in the water, then yes.
Walking by the horse stables at 10am?
Maybe.
More towards the people who told me that there was no way there was going to be a tsunami, based on their super-scientific know-how of there "never being one before".
i loved every word of this post. no need to add my opinion. but i wanted to tell you how LAME i felt after i talked to you. your family's in the middle of evacuating and i stop you to confess my egregious sin. super!
glad we were all safe. and even though i channel rose nyland (really, i do) when i'm in crisis mode, i love running into you randomly once a year!
Oh, I miss Perry and Price.
Love the pics and so glad you survived with your attitude of gratitude in tact. Maybe you should grumble a little more so we can drag you back to the mainland.
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