Life Imitates Art (and vice versa)

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Oscar Wilde said, “Paradoxically though it may seem, it is none the less true that life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” I’m starting to think old Oscar was onto something. Do you sense something familiar about recent events? Does anyone else feel like we’re living inside a movie?

In just the last 18 months, we’ve had Hurricane Irene, Superstorm Sandy and Nemo. 

The coverage for each of these storms reminded me of scenes from movies like “The Day After Tomorrow” and “2012”.  During Sandy, I kept waiting to see live footage of a wall of water crashing into the Statue of Liberty, scattering cabs and busses in midtown Manhattan while Jake Gyllenhaal took refuge in the New York Public Library.  The storm never quite reached those proportions, but the Seaside Heights Jet-Star roller coaster still sits in the middle of the ocean.

Last week, during Nemo, I felt like Jake in the second half of “The Day After Tomorrow” as I shivered in my powerless house.  Would we have to burn books to keep warm?  Would Dennis Quaid come snowshoeing up my driveway to rescue us? Would we have to evacuate to Mexico? Does anyone else hear wolves howling?

For those of you who made the mistake of watching “Speed 2” with Sandra Bullock and Jason Patrick (Keanu Reeves wisely opted out), did you feel a sense of déjà vu when that cruise ship caught fire last week, stranding thousands of passengers like upper class boat people? Between the recent Carnival debacle, that Italian cruise ship that ran aground last year while the captain was waving to relatives on shore, and all the noroviruses that have plagued other ships, I think I’ll take a pass on cruising anytime in the near future.  Or ever.

Now meteors are crashing to earth in Siberia?  You couldn’t turn on a television or go online without seeing footage of the meteor streaking across the sky, captured by dashboard cameras.  Which begs the question: Why do so many Russians have dashboard cameras? One gentleman had a dual camera that caught footage of both him and the road as he was driving to work.  Are the Russians so starved for entertainment there that they have to film themselves driving so they have something to watch when they come home at night? The footage reminded me of all those meteors falling to earth in “Armageddon”, that classic Bruce Willis film.  Wait a minute… Bruce Willis’ new movie “A Good Day to Die Hard” opened just the day before the meteor hit.  And the plot of his new movie takes place in Russia.  Coincidence? 

The words “Blade Runner” have taken on a whole new meaning this week.  But let’s not go there.  And for the first time in almost a millennium, a pope is resigning.  Shades of “The DaVinci Code?”

If life is going to imitate art, why can’t it imitate one of those romantic chick flicks I enjoy so much?  I wouldn’t mind finding a “Safe Haven” with Josh Duhamel or have Channing Tatum help me regain my memory, like in “The Vow”.  I wouldn’t mind being “The Lucky One” with Zac Efron.  Oh gosh, I just realized that I don’t want life to imitate art, I just want to live in a Nicholas Sparks novel.

I can handle super storms and meteorites and beached cruise ships.  I can handle massive power outages and super hot summers.  There are countless other instances where life imitates art that I can stomach. But I have to draw the line somewhere: zombies.  Despite my undying love for the genre, if my neighborhood suddenly resembles a scene from “The Walking Dead”, I’m outta there!

Finding 'Nemo' a Cold, Hard Reality

There’s an old saying:  “Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.”

Never was this more appropriate than when winter storm Nemo walloped our area this past weekend.  For weeks, my children have been whining, “When are we going to get snow?  We want snow!”

My response to this was that we have had snow. Granted there hasn’t been much of it, but clearly what we got just wasn’t enough for them.   

“We want a lot of snow! We want a blizzard! We want a snow day.”

Be careful what you wish for, children.

And so the winter fairy waved her magic wand and granted my boys exactly what they wanted: a blizzard that pounded the region and left our town with two feet of snow and two snow days (as of this writing). Of course, what my children didn’t plan on was the power loss that tagged along for the ride.

The first snow day went off without a hitch.  Due to the timing of the storm, both my kids and my husband were home Friday.  The kids enjoyed their video games and television while my husband and I kicked back for a late afternoon movie.  We had just finished our last load of laundry and our last homemade hot meal when the power went out.  Armed with flashlights and board games, we figured we were ready to ride out the storm.

The next morning, the kids were delighted to see that nearly two feet of snow had been dumped overnight.  They were less than thrilled by a breakfast of cold cereal, with no electricity to cook bacon or pancakes. The temperature in the house had dropped overnight, requiring additional layers of clothing. My older son was pressed into service shoveling the driveway, while my younger son lamented the demise of his handheld game system, which his older brother had left on, draining the battery.  Lunch was whatever could be heated in a frying pan on our gas grill. 

“Hey, a three-day weekend isn’t fun without power, “ my younger son observed.

Once the storm had subsided and the driving ban lifted, we ventured out to a kind friend’s house.  Like high-tech refugees, we loaded up a box with every electronic device and its charger, threw in the coffee maker and a carafe, and headed over for a few hours of warmth, hot food and conversation. Though our host graciously offered us a bed for the night, we chose instead to return to the cold and gloom; no one wants to be a burden to others, even when your house is hovering at 48 degrees Fahrenheit.       

Returning home, we built a fire and huddled close. It was at this point that we received a text message stating that National Grid would not be restoring power to our town for another 72 hours. Our well-chilled gloom had just been extended for three more days.

On Sunday morning my younger son and I ventured out to church to pray for restored power while my older son stayed home for more shoveling (the roof this time).  As we traveled past the Hanover Mall, we noticed hundreds of power trucks amassed in the parking lot.  I figured they were awaiting their assignments; my son guessed they were there to restore power to Dunkin’ Donuts. Hey, a lineman’s gotta eat, right?

Even without power or heat, my son and I managed to stay warm by huddling close to our fellow church members and by choosing a window seat located directly in a stream of warm sunlight. As we drove home, I pointed out several homes that had sustained damage by fallen trees.  I reminded my son that although we had no power or heat, our house was intact, our family was unharmed and we had thoughtful friends who continued to offer us food, lodging and a warm place to recharge our cell phones and our souls.  And the hot water bottle I discovered in the bottom of my closet wasn’t too shabby either.

School was cancelled for a second day.  Strangely, no whoop of joy greeted this announcement. With no power, no heat and no hot food, the snow day has lost its appeal.  My younger son wailed, “I hate this snowstorm!”

Another life lesson learned.  Sometimes wishes do come true.  Which is why you need to be careful what you wish for.

Never Really A Bad Time to be Grateful

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There’s nothing like a $1000 toilet to make you appreciate your life.

That may seem like a strange statement to some of you.  Okay, that probably seems like a strange statement to all of you.  But it’s true.  If you allow me to explain, perhaps it won’t seem so strange after all.

Like many in this economy, my family lives modestly.  We own a small home; my car is 10 years old; we don’t possess a boat or a vacation home; our family vacations typically consist of visiting relatives in New York or New Jersey, with the odd trip to Niagara Falls or Washington DC thrown in over the years.  In short, we don’t live lavishly yet still manage to find ourselves behind the financial eight ball.

So when something occurs that requires a hefty sum of cash, it tends to send us into a tailspin; a notice from the IRS indicating we made an error on our taxes; a “check engine” light on the minivan that requires a rebuilt transmission; an unexpected medical procedure that isn’t covered by insurance.

And of course, the $1000 toilet.

The toilet in question isn’t gold plated. It doesn’t clean itself or play music or have a heated seat. It’s not made by the federal government and comes with a $500 plunger.  It’s not even really the toilet itself, but the pumping mechanism that allows the toilet and the adjacent powder room sink to work below ground level. It’s the system we installed over 13 years ago when we moved into our home and determined that we could not survive with only one toilet in the house (even though the previous owners managed to).  When our plumber first installed it, the manual guaranteed “…a million flushes!”

And so it seems our million flushes are up.

When our plumber gave us the news that the cost to repair the system would run around $1000, I should have cried, but I didn’t.  I laughed.  We’ve become used to the $1000 repair on the car or the house.  But $1000 for a toilet?  Well, I sure didn’t see that coming! And so we’ll have to wait a bit longer to replace the decrepit garage door; to fix the leaky roof over the slider; to repair our front steps.  Because when you’re a family of four, your number two toilet suddenly becomes your number one priority.

The next day I happened to notice a posting on a friend’s Facebook page.  It said, “If you have food in your fridge, clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of the world.  If you have money in the bank, your wallet and some spare change, you are among the top 8% of the worlds wealthy.  If you woke up this morning with more health than wellness, you are more blessed than the million people in this world who will not survive this week.   If you have not experienced the danger of battle, the agony of imprisonment or torture, or the horrible pangs of starvation, you are luckier than 500 million people alive and suffering. If you can read this message, you are more fortunate than 3 billion people in this world who cannot read at all.”

There’s nothing like the reminder of all the hunger, poverty, illness, hatred and illiteracy in the world to put your life in perspective.  Even if the percentages and statistics aren’t completely accurate, it was still a sober reminder of just how many blessings I have in my life compared to so many others.   Once again, humbled by Facebook.

As with most situations, there was a silver lining in all this.  At least now I finally have an answer to the question my husband has been asking me for months: “What do you want for your 50^th birthday?”

Why, a $1000 toilet, of course.