Bizarro is brought to you today by A Second Chance At Life!
As you may have surmised from this post, I did not die in Hurricane Irene. Though I was up every hour all night long clearing a drain just outside our back door that keeps getting clogged with leaves and funneling water toward our bedroom, and I could easily have been hit by a flying patio chair from a neighbor’s balcony and killed, I wasn’t.
So now I feel as though I’ve been given a second chance at life. Especially since we did not lose our electricity, which all by itself would be as close to death as I hope to come in my lifetime. And power outages spark looting, which is a concern, even though I’m pretty sure Jesus would have protected our property.
Actually, I feel as though I’ve been given a third chance at life because one time, years ago, I pulled out in front of a car that I totally did not see coming and was almost in an auto accident. Wow, that was close.
In my neighborhood, we got a lot of rain and high winds, but not too much damage. Here is a pic of an amputated branch across the sidewalk on the corner of my block. Residents have been dealing with this misfortune in different ways: some walk around, others step over. New Yorkers are resilient that way.
This is a shot of a brownstone just around the corner, the inhabitants of which have taped their windows to protect from flying glass. Disappointingly, none were broken. What a waste of tape and human effort.
CHNW and I took in all of our patio furniture and potted plants –– a grueling 15-minute ordeal of walking and carrying –– but most dramatically, I brought my motorcycles into the house. Here is a lovely, blurry cell phone pic of them in my apartment. They look good there, I may leave them for a few days. Thank goodness we don’t own a car, our apartment isn’t big enough to hold one.
The most amazing evidence of the storm by far is the empty can (see below) that I found in our backyard. If you look closely, you’ll see that it is New England Clam Chowder. The powerful, swirling winds of this unforgettably enormous storm somehow managed to pick it up in Boston, and deposit it in our backyard here in Brooklyn. Amazing!
We also found a baby sleeping in a crib at the top of our backyard tree, holding a rose in a bud vase and a brick with a piece of straw driven through it. But those kinds of things are common in Tornado Alley, where I was raised, so I didn’t bother to take a picture.
Now that I’m still alive, I’m going to continue my cartoon career. Look forward to more posts in the coming days.