...but you'd better not drink it without bringing it to a rolling boil for one minute first. Welcome to Monmouth County, NJ, the newest member of the Third World. Since yesterday, we have had no potable water, and periodically have just a dribble coming out of the faucet when you bother to turn it on. I'm generally not bothering.
Seems a shaky part of the infrastructure broke, taking out water service to most of the county. This piece of piping, or at least the structure that supports it (a wooden bridge, if you can believe that), had been damaged by (hurricane or tropical storm, depending on who you talk to) Irene last August. Apparently NJ American Water used bubblegum and baling wire to fix that damage, so now when it's 90-something degrees out, the thing collapsed entirely, taking the water supply out with it.
What's with the utilities around here? Is it this bad in other parts of the US? How about the rest of the world? Do they all wait to maintain anything until a catastrophic failure occurs?
I remember when I first moved to this area, I wanted to get a new electric line dropped from the pole to my house, because the old one was frayed and didn't look like it could withstand a strong wind gust (which we have all the time). The electric company told me they wouldn't do it, they were waiting for "the big one" (meaning a hurricane or equivalent storm) to take everything down, then they would replace what broke.
Looks like the water company practices the same policy.
Meanwhile, I am sure the company's executives have had astronomical pay raises and bonuses every year, and I know our water rates keep going up and up with no end in sight. They recently made the water undrinkable in any event, by changing the chemicals they use to make it potable. So now what used to be good water is close to unpalatable. I guess the next logical step was this debacle.
When I was out doing errands this morning I checked out one of the sites where the county is giving out bottled water for free to anyone who says they live in the affected areas. The line wasn't too long (yet), but it was very early. I got my free case of bottled water, one per customer, and wondered what someone with a large family might do, send every family member to wait in line in a separate vehicle so they could get multiples? At least they gave out bottled water, we weren't required to bring our own containers. I can imagine the local residents with their Mercedes' and Porsches loaded with empty jugs, going for a fill-up.
I assume NJ American Water is paying for the handouts. I sure hope so, though I wouldn't be surprised if Shop Rite, whose label is on the bottles and whose truck and personnel are at least in part manning the local line, was footing the bill. Shop Rite is good people.
A lot of people were buying a lot of water at Shop Rite, too. Good for Shop Rite, they'll make some extra sales this week. Like a blizzard warning, always good for business. I imagine beer sales ought to be good as well. Not just the holiday upcoming, but a man-made disaster to boot. We're tough here in Jersey, we'll drink our way out of this mess.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Giving thanks
Third day of the heat wave on the east coast, and I'm here listening to and watching a rollicking good thunderstorm which (a) chased everyone off the beach, (b) dropped a little rain - so far - on my parched tomato plants, and (c) sounds as though it started a fire somewhere on the other side of the bridge, there is emergency equipment still rolling fifteen minutes after the alarm went out. That's not so unusual, actually, the emergency personnel around here generally have so little to do they jump at any opportunity to suit up and go to an event, whatever that event might be.
So it got me to thinking, some days it isn't all that bad to live at the beach. The entertainment is free - I got to watch people run like heck to their cars when the thunder started sounding serious. I got to hear a couple of guys exclaiming about a sting ray they saw in the water - and I'm pretty sure they weren't referring to an old Corvette.
The interruptions can be irritating, like the fact that the power went out about five minutes ago (between the last paragraph and this one), but thanks to some sort of switch that resets itself most of the time, we're back online already. Some days technology is pretty cool.
So, where was I? Hmmm. At any rate, the power coming back on seems to have stimulated the rain to do more, so maybe the plants will get a good drink after all. Among the new additions to my yard this spring, I have four day lilies that were just planted on Sunday, a hydrangea, and a butterfly bush. Tomatoes are an annual labor around here, some years more successful than others. This year's tomatoes are courtesy of Alice, one of my best train buddies, which is another thing I was thinking about today, before the power blipped.
I wonder if train buddies are specific to the North Jersey Coast Line, or if they happen elsewhere? I can see reasons they might be specific to our line, we have the longest run in the NJ Transit system, and I see a lot of the same people every day, some of them in both directions. Over time there develops a bit of espirit du corps (some days we really need it), and sometimes we even trade names, and even better, get to be friends. We say hello to each other when we cross paths in places other than the train or one station or the other, and sometimes socialize or help each other out. Another of my train buddies, Jeff, came home with me the other evening to help put the air conditioner in my bedroom window, since it was going to be in the 90s and I hadn't even thought of getting the unit set up last time I had someone with muscles here to lift it for me. I think that's awesome, to help out someone you barely know, just because you "conversate" (a NJT coined word - as in, if you are seated in a quiet car and wish to conversate, please move to a different car) on the train some mornings.
So I think I'm counting train buddies as one of the things to be thankful for, and yes, it is a part of living at the beach. If I didn't live here, I wouldn't be riding the train with such nice people.
Other things to be thankful for, which are definitely a part of living at the beach, include my lunch today (and dinner the last two days), which I was enjoying before the thunderstorm arrived. One of my neighbors stopped by the other evening with a large baggie of crabs, cooked and cleaned and ready to eat. Crabs are probably my favorite food on the planet, and it's awesome to be handed a sack of them, free of charge. Even better to not need to spend the rest of the night, after getting home from work after 8.00, cooking and cleaning them. And what bliss to park myself at the table and enjoy the zen of eating crabs, poking and sucking every last bit of meat out of the shells, and especially on a Friday afternoon, when I ought to be in the city working!
Another thing to be thankful for is neighbors like the people next door to my Mother, who sent over freshly caught fish this morning - I think it's stripped bass - and also as needed babysit Pablo. Pablo, if you haven't visited here before, is my Chihuahua, who was so melted this morning he hopped in the car to go spend the afternoon with Grandma, who has the a/c on. Here's how he looked before she came for him:
He couldn't decide if the floor in my office was cooler than the tile floor in the bathroom, so he was going back and forth between them, splatting out on one floor or the other. I always thought Mexicans liked hot weather? A friend of mine who grew up in Mexico loves hot weather. Maybe Pablo is really part Husky, or something.
So, the storm has passed thru, it's somewhat cooler now, though still pretty humid, and gee, there goes the thunder again....but the birds are back to their singing - there's a colony of mocking birds here, and they make the most glorious racket at all times of the day or night. The bird with the most songs gets the girls, you know. I think it was Alvin Ailey who said that's not noise, it's part of the music of life. Hard as it is some days, I'm trying to think that way, too.
So it got me to thinking, some days it isn't all that bad to live at the beach. The entertainment is free - I got to watch people run like heck to their cars when the thunder started sounding serious. I got to hear a couple of guys exclaiming about a sting ray they saw in the water - and I'm pretty sure they weren't referring to an old Corvette.
The interruptions can be irritating, like the fact that the power went out about five minutes ago (between the last paragraph and this one), but thanks to some sort of switch that resets itself most of the time, we're back online already. Some days technology is pretty cool.
So, where was I? Hmmm. At any rate, the power coming back on seems to have stimulated the rain to do more, so maybe the plants will get a good drink after all. Among the new additions to my yard this spring, I have four day lilies that were just planted on Sunday, a hydrangea, and a butterfly bush. Tomatoes are an annual labor around here, some years more successful than others. This year's tomatoes are courtesy of Alice, one of my best train buddies, which is another thing I was thinking about today, before the power blipped.
I wonder if train buddies are specific to the North Jersey Coast Line, or if they happen elsewhere? I can see reasons they might be specific to our line, we have the longest run in the NJ Transit system, and I see a lot of the same people every day, some of them in both directions. Over time there develops a bit of espirit du corps (some days we really need it), and sometimes we even trade names, and even better, get to be friends. We say hello to each other when we cross paths in places other than the train or one station or the other, and sometimes socialize or help each other out. Another of my train buddies, Jeff, came home with me the other evening to help put the air conditioner in my bedroom window, since it was going to be in the 90s and I hadn't even thought of getting the unit set up last time I had someone with muscles here to lift it for me. I think that's awesome, to help out someone you barely know, just because you "conversate" (a NJT coined word - as in, if you are seated in a quiet car and wish to conversate, please move to a different car) on the train some mornings.
So I think I'm counting train buddies as one of the things to be thankful for, and yes, it is a part of living at the beach. If I didn't live here, I wouldn't be riding the train with such nice people.
Other things to be thankful for, which are definitely a part of living at the beach, include my lunch today (and dinner the last two days), which I was enjoying before the thunderstorm arrived. One of my neighbors stopped by the other evening with a large baggie of crabs, cooked and cleaned and ready to eat. Crabs are probably my favorite food on the planet, and it's awesome to be handed a sack of them, free of charge. Even better to not need to spend the rest of the night, after getting home from work after 8.00, cooking and cleaning them. And what bliss to park myself at the table and enjoy the zen of eating crabs, poking and sucking every last bit of meat out of the shells, and especially on a Friday afternoon, when I ought to be in the city working!
Another thing to be thankful for is neighbors like the people next door to my Mother, who sent over freshly caught fish this morning - I think it's stripped bass - and also as needed babysit Pablo. Pablo, if you haven't visited here before, is my Chihuahua, who was so melted this morning he hopped in the car to go spend the afternoon with Grandma, who has the a/c on. Here's how he looked before she came for him:
He couldn't decide if the floor in my office was cooler than the tile floor in the bathroom, so he was going back and forth between them, splatting out on one floor or the other. I always thought Mexicans liked hot weather? A friend of mine who grew up in Mexico loves hot weather. Maybe Pablo is really part Husky, or something.
So, the storm has passed thru, it's somewhat cooler now, though still pretty humid, and gee, there goes the thunder again....but the birds are back to their singing - there's a colony of mocking birds here, and they make the most glorious racket at all times of the day or night. The bird with the most songs gets the girls, you know. I think it was Alvin Ailey who said that's not noise, it's part of the music of life. Hard as it is some days, I'm trying to think that way, too.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Yesterday
A picture from our afternoon/early evening walk yesterday. I like the "painterly" sky, and I'm impressed the phone actually did a decent job of recording it. Of course, it looks like a lot of newer houses do - too many different "features" used at the same time. I'm not a cloud-name expert, but it seems it might have been better to just have the white ones that look brushed on, without the passing thunderstorms (those dark blue-grey masses) cluttering up the view. But that's how the weather has been the last week or two. If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes, it'll change.
The light on the rocks and beach grass is a product of the sun peeking out from under one of those thunder clouds.
The changeable weather has two results that I've observed. One, more people get to go to the beach. With a very limited number of parking spaces available, the number of people who can find a place to park to go to the beach is also limited. The weather contributes by making the personnel turn over more quickly than it ordinarily would. It's sort of like the tables at a restaurant. When one group of people finishes eating, the next group can be seated and fed. With the beach, one group of people gets rained on or hears thunder, and leaves quickly. The weather gets bad for its allotted five minutes, then the sun comes out again, and a new crew takes to the beach. We've been having three or four turns per day lately, where normally the same people who arrive in the morning don't leave until it's time for supper.
The other oddness created by the weird weather is an unseasonable flowering of our Montauk Daisies. Normally these plants are green all summer, and only bloom once fall arrives, so we have full flowering from the end of September thru the first hard frost, late October or so. Not this year. We've got flowers already, and it's only June. So while the roses are in full bloom, the Montauks are joining them. It will be interesting to see what happens in the fall. Maybe we really are turning into California.
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