If you were here this morning, I’d tell you that despite my disgust at having no Sixlets this week, I’m nevertheless hella grateful to be drinking my second cup of coffee of the day. Yesterday we were without water for about six hours and today we’re still under a boil order, but–avid water drinker that I am–I had about four gallons pre-filtered, sitting in the refrigerator. If I can convince myself to take a shower sometime this morning/afternoon, I’ll trek down to Dollar General to replenish my supply; otherwise, my sweet husband will have to take his chances with bacteria when he wakes up this evening wanting coffee. I’ll tell him the same thing I tell the kids when they want me to buy anti-bacterial soap: you need a certain amount of exposure to bacteria, otherwise you’ll die of something utterly ridiculous and mundane one of these days because you have no natural immunity.
Science FTW. Please don’t ask me to cite my sources.
If you were in my living room this morning, you’d be listening to the entire Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers discography. It should take me and my sadness well into tomorrow. Honestly, I can’t express myself at all on this subject, and just sitting here listening seems like the best I can do. If I could say what I felt, without a doubt it would involve high school lunch hour freedom with my sister (in-law), wherein we drove through our Midwestern town in her shitty gray car, singing about Mary Jane at the top of our lungs and laughing at the perfection of “Something in the Air” to follow it up. Without a doubt, that compilation album was the soundtrack of my teenage years, and they’re still the songs guaranteed to make me and mine give up our stillness and sing along. I can’t imagine the world without Tom Petty in it, but I definitely can’t imagine it without all the people his music reminds me of. It feels like the us-es we used to be died along with him.
If you had been reading the Times with me yesterday morning, you wouldn’t have heard me utter any of my usual words about Vegas. I lived there for a year in 2005-2006 and visited a handful of times since, and I could never get over the fact that there was no naturally occurring grass or normal trees. Coupled with the oppressive heat (don’t talk to me about humidity), its barrenness had me convinced that it was determined to murder my soul.
But I never disliked the people. There’s about five natives in Vegas (one of whom I was involved with at the time), and almost everybody else is a transplant. I loved the Bronx accents, and it seemed I was always encountering someone from Chicago who’d never heard of my small hometown but nevertheless reminded me of my roots.
The Las Vegas I know isn’t the Strip, although I spent enough time stuck in traffic there to know that it isn’t as entirely adult as most people might imagine. During the day there are families, and I can only think that a country music festival would have drawn most of them out, regardless of the hour. Additionally, the families that were there probably weren’t tourists; on a Sunday night in the fall, the kids would’ve had school the next day.
I can’t stop thinking about what the children must’ve seen as they sat on their fathers’ shoulders and the people around them started to run and fall.
What the hell kind of times are we living in? I wish we could hit “reset” on 2017 and stop all the horror before it starts.
Speaking of which…if you were here, you’d know that I’m not the only one feeling that way (though the rest of them might not say it in so many words). Tonight, we’re “scheduled” to watch Back to the Future. The kids can’t stop talking about how long it’s been since they’ve seen it and how much they “miss” it, so my guess is, they’ve been doing a little of their own DeLorean-centered thinking.
I suppose there’s only so much time you can spend contemplating stockpiles of automatic weapons and human cruelty before you have to put your attention somewhere fictional.
Anyway, we’re all hanging on over here.
Love, Sixlets, and clean drinking water to you all, wherever in the Great Wide Open you might be.