As I let the dogs out first thing in the morning, the younger dog streaked over to the barn chasing something. I didn't think much of this as it usually means a bunny was nearby. After an uncharacteristically short time, she came running back to the gate into the back yard accompanied by the overwhelming smell of skunk. My morning did not start well.
Torrential rain started a few minutes later.
A quick internet search gave a few home remedies for dealing with a skunk-sprayed dog, and SO and I were talking about what we were going to do with the dog. Immediately after I saw a bolt of lightning strike the ground close enough to be seen out the kitchen window, there was a loud pop and flash behind the stove. The house had just been hit, or at least affected by, lightning.
The dog got two baths, the first from a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and dish-washing detergent; the second with our current normal dog washing soap.
I took a look around the house and didn't see any effects of the lightning bolt. The stove appeared to be working and none of the digital clocks were even flashing.
I did eventually make it out of the house and on to work, but it was late by my normal routine. I was thinking about what a pain it is having to deal with a skunk-sprayed dog and the potential for very serious issues from a lightning strike when something on the radio brought me back to reality. Other than being a bit late, nothing was really all that bad. So while the morning had not gone well, any problems looked like first world problems. I was still frustrated; as they say - hopefully tongue in cheek, "They may be rich white guy problems, but they are still problems."
Neal Gabler writes in a shockingly personal way about some of his own problems of a financial nature in a recent issue of The Atlantic. Despite having what most would consider a fairly successful career, he sounds as if he is mostly living paycheck to paycheck, or at best has lived paycheck to paycheck for much of his adult life.
One of the risks about writing so openly is that he has opened himself up to criticism. It is pretty easy to sit back and do arm chair financial planning after-the-fact. Sadly, both the Huffington Post and Slate did so very quickly and cast this with the specter of male versus female. Were that it was so easy; both Huffington Post and Slate instantly lose credibility and set back a cause which they claim to promote when they frame the problem on the base pairs of x and y chromosomes.
I can easily look back on bad financial decisions I've made over the years and if anyone says they can't think of any, they are bald-faced lying. What does the phrase "bald-faced" even mean?
In Neal Gabler's case, he made a couple doozies: Not taking the penalties of late taxes seriously, dumping a 401(K) to pay for a wedding (does his daughter have some responsibility for that - and why does everyone feel so compelled to sacrifice so much of the future on one event?) and creating severe hardship by buying a second house before selling the first (Ooops, I did that too).
But a bigger issue is lurking in that last poor decision.
Why, especially when one has chosen a field which might not be the most lucrative, live in New York? Or Los Angeles? Why live in Chicago when you can live anywhere as a professional writer?
I took a look at what Mr. Gabler has written, and he has five books about the entertainment industry. While the majority of what I read is non-fiction, none of these sounds very interesting to me, but I'm sure they must appeal to some. I can't believe that another book about Walt Disney was desperately needed. And an entire book about Barbara Streisand? It didn't work for Lucy, not sure it will work for Neal...
Meghan Daum made the sensible move to the Midwest when New York had threatened to bankrupt her, then oddly chose to move back to begin working towards poverty again.
New York, despite what it thinks, isn't the center of the universe. As I was walking my dog, pre-skunk, around the 5-mile block the previous weekend, I couldn't help thinking about how lucky I was to live in the Midwest. Of course the weather was nearly perfect, and even New York might be somewhat nice on a morning like that.
At some point however, financial issues seem to become math issues. And sympathy is a bit hard to come by for someone as educated as Mr. Gabler when it comes to relatively simple math.
So my first world issues even might be comparatively minor. The concoction of peroxide, baking soda and dish detergent worked relatively well - especially since the dog was washed off very quickly. I still haven't seen any issues as a result of the lighting strike.
But there might be something to learn about the fragile nature of everything from a dog, a skunk and a bolt of lightning.
There but for the grace of God go I.
No comments:
Post a Comment