On the way to work this morning, I realized that I was in need of gas. I decided to forego the experience since I was full of static electricity and didn’t feel like triggering an explosion at the pump. Static electricity abound in our apartment, I fell victim to five shocks this morning alone. Last night was another story.

Oddly enough, there’s only been about 27 incidents of such explosions, but the way the media touts the subject, you’d think it’s a world wide epidemic. Still, I didn’t feel like testing my luck this morning. Of course, maybe I just use that as an excuse not to spend my Friday morning, filling my gas tank in 0° F degree weather, with -12° F wind-chill. Which brings me to another subject: us Minnesotans have been so spoiled, our thick skin is getting thinner. It’s only 0° out and we’re running around like it’s -20°, myself included. And don’t think we haven’t seen that kind of weather in the past.

I was happy to find that there were several people obeying the ramp meters this morning, even if my commute was earlier than normal. Apparently MNDOT knows that rush hour starts early both ways on Fridays. And so does everyone else I work with. I’ve come to the logical conclusion that everyone in this building (again, myself included) must be crazy. That’s right; stark, raving, lunatic mad. I usually arrive somewhere between 6:45 a.m. and 8:15 a.m., depending on my motivation, how late I want to work and what has to get done. One would think that most normal, rational people arrive to work around 8:00 a.m., but not the people that work here. Our ramp has four floors and if arriving past 7:30 a.m. on a normal day, you’re forced to bundle up and waddle your way from the back parts of the ramp floor. That is, if you’re not someone who’s qualified to park in one of the millions of visitor spots near the door.

And speaking of work, I’m hoping to ‘skip out’ of it a bit early today. My parents made an unexpected, last minute trip to Minnesota last night and I’d like to spend a little time with them. My dad will see my apartment for the first time today, which made realize that a child is probably never free from wanting their parents’ approval, even in their adult years. The desire to have their approval, to let them know that at the very least they raised a decent, sensible and successful child is an ever-present reality in just about everyone’s life. And we all hope, that when it comes time for the bird to leave the nest, he or she flies instead of falls. And some of us, just some of us don't want to just fly, but soar. This is perhaps one of the few threads that ties us all together. Excepting unfortunate circumstances, I don’t know that I’d believe anyone who told me that it wasn’t.

Happy Friday. And Happy Weekend.

posted by paula 8:46 AM

The other day I was speaking with a relocated Ecuadorian woman about natural disasters. Having moved here over ten years ago, she related how to this day, the feeling of a moving building makes her heart skip a beat since she’s lived through several earthquakes in her time. The floors in the Mall of America ‘rock’ at times and sometimes you can feel the vibrations of others’ footsteps because of the way the floors are suspended in places. My workplace does the same thing. It’s noticeable, but to us Midwesterners it does little more than make a few of us complain about the potential motion sickness it could cause. To this young woman, it instigates the urge to run from the building.
She went on to relate how she witnessed the destruction of a town from a tsunami, how the earth groans and moans and then cracks open at your feet and if you’re lucky, you’re not standing anywhere near them. In turn, I related the horror of tornadoes which seemed miniscule compared to her quake stories. I topped it with stories of a ‘natural disaster’ of which I had not been familiar with until this summer: forest fires.
Most of us in the Midwest watch poor California, Montana and Wyoming with a little sympathy during the summer months. One forest fire seems to run into another and once it’s put out, it’s quickly forgotten. A few of us – myself included – often wondered things like “why don’t they just put it out? Or don’t they have enough people to fight the fire?”
Last summer, when visiting my parents’ home in Wyoming we learned the reality of what forest fires are like for those in the West. Contrary to our soggy, mosquito-ridden back yards and campgrounds, a summer in Wyoming is plagued with prayers for rain and a dryness that turns lawn into piercing, brown needles. That is, if the lawn survives at all. Dust blows in an ever-constant wind and campfires, fireworks and cookouts are squelched by the DNR. All this dryness makes for great burning ground that could be ignited by a simple spark.
You see, when fire hits that much prime kindling, there’s no running to get a bucket of water or fire extinguisher, because the wind and grass or whatever it may be, is immediately in an uncontrollable flame. From there and depending on the conditions, the fire can move anywhere from five to over twenty five miles per hour.

Last summer, while on vacation, we were witness to more than one forest fire, the largest of which was the Lead/Deadwood fire in South Dakota. Luckily most were from a distance, but we still saw the long-term effects of the flame. During the day, we were subject to a constant smoke-filled sky and at night, a fiery orange moon that basked in the afterglow of the flame and smoke. Occasionally we were treated to the hope of a rainstorm that would roll in at night, but they never dropped any rain; just lightning that would no doubt spark another fire, if not two or three.

Until last summer, I had never seen a rainstorm that didn’t contain any rain. I had never stood in 115 degree heat and I had never held a fear of fire like I did during the time that we were there. I also never had empathy for forest fire victims like I do now.

posted by paula 11:29 AM

Wow. I wonder when we'll see this on the next episode of "When Animals Attack!"

posted by paula 12:21 PM

I’m fortunate to work in an ‘accidentally’ diverse workplace. That is, the people were hired for being a good people that work hard, not because of some quota. My particular department has a few non-natives, some of them not even citizens. If I had to judge it, I’d say that our particular workplace is what happens when diversity is employed correctly. My team and I engage in lively casual discussions addressing social norms and customs and I have to admit that I’m much the wiser for having known these people, both those that are Americans and those that are not. That does not mean, however, that I’m supporting the mandatory recipes for such environments that are quotas. But all in all, the day-to-day goes well and I’m lucky that my co-workers have great senses of humor.

The past few weeks, however, I’ve been struggling with something. A few of my co-workers – two in particular -- who sit in rather close proximity to me, chat quite frequently about political subjects. It’s not enough that my political views differ greatly from theirs, since I’m quite used to that being the case. But as for the past few weeks, their conversations are quite loud and address their opinions of America in general.

One is born of a country, let’s say in or around the Middle East and the other, unfortunately is American-born. As of late and on a regular basis, I’m subject to their conversations-at-whim, which criticize everything from the American highway system to our gun control laws and welfare system. In almost every case, America is compared to other nations who invariably not only do things better, but are smarter, faster and do so with a better attitude. I frequently hear comments over the cube wall like “Oh yes! Americans are lazy/egocentric/selfish/stupid” or any other derogatory adjective. They’ve even given opinion on reforming our voting system and the current “War in Iraq” situation.

They’re quite ‘worldly’ people, having traveled many places in different nations. They seem to be upset with not finding what they consider to be authentic food in America and if it wasn’t for the fact that they’re always talking about how somewhere else is better than here, I’d hold that against them, too. While at first I was angry that they don’t employ a when-in-Rome policy (and more so that a fellow native would bash his country so much), I’ve just come to realize and taken solace in the fact that it’s quite possible these two individuals may not be happy wherever they go, because there will always be someplace else that’s more wonderful, authentic and cultural to them. I do still believe, however, that when living or traveling in other nations, it’s best for one to keep their opinions regarding that nation’s policies to themselves, especially when their society can be criticized just as equally, if not more than ours regarding more important issues such as the treatment of its own citizens. But then again, that’s what makes America what it is, is it not? I may not necessarily agree with your point of view, but I’ll fight for your right to say it.

posted by paula 12:04 PM