Been a bit at sixes and sevens lately, catching up on work – the boss was right, it didn’t go anywhere – and not having much time or frankly enthusiasm for buckling on the old armor and wading back into the fray.
Took the motorcycle to work yesterday and today, thinking that traffic might be tangled but I guess there are still too many folks hunkered down or straggling back to make the usual morning knife fight worth the candle. We’re pretty much at half-staff here on base, which realization made those who had shown up to work rather sulky. I thought I’d sneak off an hour early or so, which thought apparently came to the rest of us since the traffic leaving the island was slowed to a standstill. That’s when owning a motorcycle really comes in handy. Some folks seem to resent it when you lane split up to the stop light – I guess it’s that whole “fairness versus freedom” thing, writ small.
The Kat is a smart kid – the other day when I was walking around taking photographs of all our earthlies before we bugged out she sussed out the purpose right away: “For the insurance, right?” Right she was, too. I discovered afterwards that she had taken some pictures of her own – her equestrian competition ribbons.
Could’ve made room for those. Made room for those logbooks.
The kids had never seen my office before spending the night on its floor, and I think they got a kick out of it. The Biscuit sat at my desk and then spun around to see… herself. I’ve got pictures of the three of them there behind my desk to remind me of the important things. A fact I don’t know that they suspected. I think they we’re privately pleased even though the girls made a show of giving each other a hard time, saying that the other’s picture was not a particularly good representation, sorry.
I think they’re all beautiful.
Seems hard that the east county folks have gotten hit so hard, while those of us closer to the coast have once again dodged the bullet. In the nature of things in San Diego County you can either pay a very great deal of money to live cheek-by-jowl with neighbors you rarely speak to by the coast or pay a very great deal less for the same sized squat to move inland a bit. If you’re not Rancho Santa Fe wealthy but like the lifestyle you can even move up into the hills and spread out a bit – land and a rambler. Being away from the ocean, it’s hotter there in the summer time, and the I-15 rush hour traffic makes the Five look like child’s play. But without being cheap, it’s certainly a good deal cheaper.
At least until the fires come.
Survivor’s guilt? Oh, definitely.
How did your prople make out? Everybody survive without major damage? The overall amount of destruction is astonishing, and with most of the times I’ve been in the SD area I’ve had people spread all over the place. I hope everybody got off with nothing more serious that some ash to sweep up.
All of mine were spared, thank God. I think in the whole command we only lost one house. Tell you what I have learned though: That Google Maps thing is a great way to track where your people are as well as where the disaster is.
That makes you pause, that’s for sure. What a frightening thing for all, but especially for your kids. The certainty of hearth and home is the one constant for most teenagers – chafe against it though they might. To have that threatened…I’m sure it must clarify alot for the adults and priorities, but for the kids it must just be scary in a way no child should ever have to be scared.
Glad to know that even in the midst of all that, they managed to have fun seeing their dad’s office for the first time – that place outside of their normal lives. I remember the first moment I saw my dad’s office and met his employees – he owned a small roofing and flooring materials contracting company. It let me into a world I really didn’t understand – but seemed pretty cool with all the gadgets of the time.
It seems there’s always relief mixed with quilt (or is it “guilt” in the title (ICSFTH) ) when a bad thing skips you by. Especially a BIG bad thing like the fires are.
Kids are resilient and not stupid. Realizing that Dad’s concerned enough to document the house means that they need to behave and not good off — or make Mom and Dad upset unduly with squabbling or picking fights amongst themselves.
I’m glad and grateful that you and yours, as well as your “guys,” are safe and sound. Being able to track them with Google maps and the good job done tracking the fires sure helps make the worries diminish.
Continued safe wishes until the fires are out …
“Some folks seem to resent it when you lane split up to the stop light – I guess it’s that whole “fairness versus freedom” thing, writ small.”
That light on Orange needs to be classified as a “major disaster area”, will someone please get Bush and Schwarzenegger on that? At least things have become reasonable on 3rd since they put the new entrance in. That being said when I see you cruising up on my right side after I sit in traffic for 20 minutes to make a distance of a mile and a quarter I do occasionally find myself reaching for my passenger door handle.
It’s nothing personal.
WEll, it goes without saying that I am so relieved that you, your family and home are all fine and survivor’s guilt is all you’re suffering from.
But there’s one thing I would like to know.
If both a bicycle and a motorbike are “vehicles” as far as motor vehicle legislation goes, could someone please tell me where “split[ting ]up ” plays in there anywhere? Isn’t it at least illegal passing or something like that?
One of my not so little pet-peeves is bicyclists (of the non-motorized variety) who scream bloody murder that they have the same right to be on the street as I do and yet alternate between spending half the time acting like pedestrians and half the time acting like vehicles and another half the time (yes, I realize that’s three halves) do things that neither is allowed to do…on the sidewalk, off the sidewalk, weaving in and out of vehicles, yadda, yadda…
Okay. I’m done… for now [ICSFT]
The law varies from state to state, Michelle. In California, the law does not state how many vehicles may occupy a lane – this is taken by the two-wheeled set to mean that lane splitting is tacitly approved.
As MPH has intimated, it can save a lot of time.
Glad your offspring had a chance to see your office and what they mean to you in your life. It ‘ll mean more to them than they will show. Mine always check out how current the pics are. I find out via my intel sources that they compare notes- even tho they are now in their 20s. I have pics from toddler to last month and keep rotating different ones thru. BTW, its confirmed. Granddad-to- be. In my minds eye I am still that guy in NTORC. Lipstick 6 was expecting our first then. Gramps- ugh. But then again, looking forward to a whole new set of pics on the desk.
Happy that things are better there and did not go as badly as they could have for more folks. Bad enough for those who lost their homes and memories.
[...] out, and he was talking about some time they spent(he and his crew) gettin’ familiar with his office, which they’d never seen [...]
“Some folks seem to resent it when you lane split up to the stop light…”
It’s pure competitive jealousy and ignorance. Two wheels are inherently more dangerous and unstable than four. A motorcycle/bicycle is little danger to any other vehicle, while all other vehicles and road debris put riders in peril. A wise driver gives those with two wheels a wide berth. Just this morning, I had a woman pass me on the right, then make a left turn in front of me because in her mind she was in the right.
Lex, maybe you should consider Italy, after all. Lane splitting, opposite lanes, whatever. Two-wheelers not only can go, but are expected to go anywhere they can, with one huge caveat: if it’s anywhere a car can go as well, it’s entirely on you to get out of its way. Period. American bikers regularly make the mistake of thinking they are occupying a spot in a lane, just like they were taught in the states. We lose a lot of troops that way.
Now bicycles, not only can they go anywhere, but it is extremely poor style to come close to or pose a threat to a bicycle in any way. Run over the pedestrian, but tapping a biker is absolutely unacceptable.
Until a Tiger cruise in 2000, and a tour of USS Maryland, neither of my offspring had seen where I worked either. Obviously my son thought Dad’s job was pretty cool after sampling the watches underway. Daughter has always had a healthy respect for what I did.
And yet, no one else in my family has ever had a clue.
It is good for the kids to know where “here” is when duty calls. A body can pretend to care. But he can’t pretend to be there. And when Duty calls, one must be there.
Subsunk
It took an airshow at a small regional airport two years after Husband retired for me and the kids to get a tour of a P-3. I kept asking for one, but nope, no couldn’t do it when the kids could have appreciated it and had a chance to see where Daddy spent all his time.
Husbands ~ feh. (well, sometimes, that is… Other times, oh yeah, baby!)