Impotence

Today marks the 37th anniversary of the first time I forgot our wedding anniversary.  For some, that would be catastrophic but I have to say that usually I remember give or take a day, and besides there's a bigger catastrophe brewing.

Technology has given us many wonderful things, and while the ability to track and monitor massive storm systems weeks ahead, and to predict their landfall with almost pinpoint accuracy will undoubtedly save many lives and make "disaster planning" something less of an oxymoron, I can't think of a situation that highlights one's own impotence more than watching the red and blue radar swirl of the perfect storm approaching somewhere for three days, checking on the state of one's friends hourly, and wondering why on earth they aren't leaving NOW instead of risking oblivion.

Here of course, a thousand kilometres to the south, the skies are blue, made bluer by the news that we have a date set for the move.

Roll on March 11.   I wonder if it will be as memorable for us as September 11 is for the rest of the world?  Or even February 2nd for that matter.