Hurricane Ephiphany

I’ve never used Skype. I’ve been asked to a couple of times, but haven’t.

But the thing really makes me wonder. Wonder about how much different things may have been had I had it.

Long distance relationships live and die due to communication. I’ve been through two of them. Both of the died.

Both of them came before I had a cell phone. I can’t say they came before cell phones, because they didn’t But they came before I had one.

So what did that mean? I meant lots of big-ass phone bills. Ones that I couldn’t afford to pay. So what did I do? I used my credit cards. To make phone calls. If you thought using long distance was expensive, try using your credit card.

The most difficult time was when I was living on a couch of two friends of mine. I couldn’t use their phone, b/c I couldn’t afford to pay them for using it. What a fucking awful time that was.

Then came the calling cards of the other relationship. The dreaded “you have one minute remaining” voice that always seemed to come at the wrong time.

Of course, I never communicated how awful it was for me financially. I was a “man” and had to do things on my “own.” What a fucking joke that is now as I sit here waiting for a hurricane named Earl to come and wash away all the scum and villainy. Ha.

Communicating is hard. I remember the first time I told my parents I loved them. I was in my 20s. Yeah, I wrote it down in cards and letters and such. But out loud? Not until then. One of those girlfriends, the exes, gets credit for teaching me how to do that.

I also remember the last time I saw my grandfather. He was in a hospital bed. Dying. He was barely there, but he was a fighter, and I knew he’d be around for a long while yet.

As I was leaving the hospital, I turned back around and looked him in the eyes. He looked at me. I told him “Hey, Oompa. I love you.” He squeezed my hand and looked at me with a look I’d never seen before. He couldn’t talk, but his eyes did.

I knew I’d see him again at that time.

Eventually, he left the hospital and tried to get better. From what I heard, he actually did for a bit.

But then, he quit. Got tired. Whatever.

I was supposed to go see him one weekend with my sister. She went. I didn’t. Why? I had to work. Don’t even remember what stupid freaking game or whatever I stayed for. It may have just been because I was scared to leave two green reporters alone. Control freak.

He died soon after.

At least I told him I loved him.

That, I owe to another of my exes. She taught me to go back and say things when they pop into your mind.

That’s why I drove oh so far to say something to her after. She wouldn’t listen, though. I guess it was for the better.

Touching that warm car engine that day, I knew she was there. I didn’t make a scene. Maybe I should have. Take my fist and pound on the door. Cry my eyes out.

Instead, I sat in my car -- the one she gave me just a couple months earlier to make it easier for me to drive down to see her -- and cried. I an only imagine her watching me sitting there, confused. A complete wreck.

The more I think about it, the more I realize she didn’t care for me enough to want to help me. She just wanted to abandon me. But I didn’t come to this epiphany while sitting there. I didn’t come to it while in therapy two years later. Or while another girl smashed my heart and got me to throw away all the things that really were important to me -- my writings.

No, I realized it while I was typing this. While looking at how quiet, how calm it is outside. The crickets aren’t very noisy. They know what’s up. A storm’s a comin’. And it may just be a good cleansing thing. Like writing shit down in a notepad, typing it on a computer or scribbling it on a napkin or receipt. You never really know it’s coming, even with the weather channel.

See ya.

Sanity is, most certainly, overrated.

“It looks like it’s not going to be that bad.”

The opening to an awful disaster movie? Or my life. In the next few days, we’ll find out.

Went today to get a “hurricane pass”, or what you have to have to get back on the island after an evacuation has been called, but they haven’t declared it 100 percent safe yet. All the folks I asked said all I would have to do is show my lease and get it.

I did and didn’t.

It seems the town here has changed its policy of giving out passes every year to folk. Instead, they issue permanent ones to the residence itself, not to who actually is living there. Which means renters are screwed if their property management company doesn’t care or the owner of the property just wants to keep it for themselves.

Well, fine. I was probably going to ride the fucker out anyway, and now I guess my ass is going to.

Of course, I’ll leave for work on Thursday and they’ll close the bridges while I’m there. Keeping me from my own home. Yeah, safety and all that. I understand. But I’d like to be able to come back once the freaking storm is gone. I’m smart enough to not mess with downed power lines and such.

Of course, they may close the bridge Thursday night after I get home from work. Then, I’ll get to see a hurricane up close.

Unless it just skirts on by like the weather forecasters say it’s going to.

Ahhh, the ol’ cliffhanger again. Will it actually hit, or will it not. Will our hero go to sleep with lots of wind and rain, only to wake up floating in his own house? Stay tuned after these messages.

***

The last time I was around a hurricane here in NC, was Ophelia. I ended up leaving my apartment when the water started lapping at the doorway. It was interesting watching the waves in the river reach 7-8 feet tall.

That one missed us, and ended up doing more damage in Hopewell and Richmond than it did here. Flooded all of downtown Richmond pretty badly.

I saw Rita in Florida while with Emily. It was a category 1 at the time. We went and saw “The March of the Penguins” while it was blowing around. Ended up driving the Red Shark in it. Kind of cool. Kind of weird to sit here and be reminded of it. We had discussions about our future while I was there. Should have seen it coming I guess. I always said “Love will be enough” and she said “No, it won’t be.” That was the ultimate sign, really. Wasn’t too much longer before she dumped my ass.

***

Otherwise, I’ve pretty much dodged hurricanes. Well, they’ve dodged me. They seem to go where I have people I love, however. I think Florida had five or six that year.

***

Oh yeah, did see a tropical depression in Key West when Josh and I were there. We were supposed to go fishing in a skiff, but the guy canceled on us due to Erika (I think, but am not really sure).

That was a bummer of a trip. It was also Em and I’s 3rd anniversary. Something she really looked at as a huge landmark in our relationship at the time. Why? Because.

***

Not having the weather channel kind of makes this more exciting. Well, not having any television. If I didn’t work for a newspaper, I’d probably not even know about it. That, of course, makes me seek it out on the intrawebs, but I don’t think I’d really care otherwise.

The tropical updates don’t have the same impact on a computer screen. Especially after watching the same lame-ass William Shatner Priceline commercial every, single, fucking time. They seriously can’t put a different add on there. No wonder no one wants to watch sponsored videos on line.

I’ve got canned foods up the ass, along with a gaggle of water and lots of charcoal. Of course, I have nothing to really cook with the charcoal, and if I did have a freezer full of meats and fish and such, it would all go bad anyway if the thing hits and there is no power for a good while.

Candles, check. Flash light. Check. Batteries, check. Gas in car, no, but I’ll fill ‘er up tomorrow on the way to work. Hopefully, I have enough money to do that. I paid rent today and I’m a bit worried about my cash flows. It truly sucks being so stupid as a youngster, and never being paid enough to make a dent in it.

But, fuck the whining. I did it. And seriously, many things I did with that credit and such are my best memories and the ones that inspire me to sit here and type. Sit here and type. Sit here and type.

Sanity is, most certainly, overrated.