Well, things are looking up here in Houston. How do I know this? Well, for one thing the traffic is EPIC. Anyone who's ever fought the good fight in Houston's rush hour traffic understands that traffic in this town can be nightmarish under the best of circumstances. If you're silly enough to work in Katy and work in downtown Houston, f'rinstance, you could spend upwards of 3 hours on your daily commute (Uh...excuse me? Is that your quality of life circling the drain??). Now, though, it seems that traffic has been ratcheted up a notch or three. Combine seismic changes in normal traffic patterns and driver behavior with large numbers of inoperable stop lights...and you've got a recipe for something approaching disaster. Two of my colleagues were rear-ended yesterday, which isn't exactly inspiring confidence in my sense of personal safety.
In driving around town and observing the behavior of drivers, the only thing I can attribute it to is that the whole city is out of whack. Every city has a rhythm, a pace at which life moves. Houston's rhythm is all sorts of messed up. With the Beltway's tolls waived, it seems as if everyone is driving on what's normally a NASCAR testing ground. There's something about driving on the Beltway that just brings out the crazy in Houston drivers. People will do things at 85-90 MPH that they probably wouldn't do anywhere else, because the way the Beltway is designed, there aren't many places for police cruisers to hide. If you're so inclined, and I must admit that I've in the past been quite often so inclined, you can haul ass at whatever speed you think you can get away with. This is particularly true on the southeast side of the Beltway, heading out towards where I used to live. Now, though, the Beltway is as clogged as just about any other freeway in the area, which also resemble eight pounds stuffed into a five-pound sack. No wonder drivers are frustrated, angry, and prone to being even more psychotically aggressive than normal. Welcome to Houston, where vehicular manslaughter isn't a crime...it's a way of life.
Of course, city traffic engineers have a handy explanation for all of the traffic snarls around town- lack of electricity. There may well be something to that, but this area was just floored by the meteorological equivalent of a left hook. People may be back on their feet, but they're still pretty wobbly, and I imagine it's going to be awhile before things return to anything close to normal.
Driving is probably something any sane person here would keep to an absolute minimum. In some parts of town, it seems that every other stop light is inoperable, which means you're dealing with a four-way stop and playing "chicken" about every half-mile or so. Add this to the stress of a city still trying to get back on it's feet, and you just might be able to imagine that life here ain't exactly normal. After living here for 10 years, I know Houston drivers, and I've gotta tell you that these people are (&^%$#@ nuts. Then again, I can understand where it's coming from. Many neighborhoods are still dark, a lot of businesses are still closed, and many, many people haven't worked since Friday, September 12th. Unfortunately, the bills don't go away. Children still need to be fed, mortgages need to be paid, and that money has to come from somewhere. The stress is everywhere.
Welcome back, returning Islanders. We missed you. Maybe you've noticed. This is not the same Galveston Island you left two weeks ago.
Gee, ya think?? When the mayor of Galveston goes hat in hand to Washington to ask for $2.4 billion, you know that your city's all manner of messed up.
In a couple hours, Galveston Island will be reopened to residents east of 103rd Avenue. Just remember to get your tetanus shots and bring plenty of rat bait (Uh...what?? Rat bait?? And I may have to go to Galveston? I. HATE. RATS.). Almost two weeks after Hurricane Ike turned the island into the equivalent of a wind tunnel, anyone on the east end of the island will be able to go home. Not that there's really much of anything to go home to. Basic services are practically nonexistent, and there still isn't a functioning hospital on the island. Combine that with that fact that few businesses have reopened, and what you have is a city that has a long ways to go in order to be anything closer to habitable. Putting a city on an island back together is no mean feat, especially when there's only one efficient, readily accessible way- the Galveston Causeway- on or off the island.
There are those who have questioned- I'm not certain how seriously- the wisdom of rebuilding Galveston. Galveston has been decimated twice in the past 108 years, and the wisdom of building a large city on a barrier island can and should probably be open to some debate. Then again, the same questions were posed after Hurricane Katrina hit News Orleans in 2005. It's easy to question the wisdom of rebuilding a place that's not your home and that you likely have no emotional connection to. For those who do live in Galveston and are invested- emotionally and otherwise- in the city, this is no mere academic exercise. You might not want to live on a barrier island, but there are thousands who do...and are.
No matter where you might choose to live, there are risks. Earthquakes on the West Coast. Tornadoes in the Midwest. Hurricanes along the Gulf Coast. Packers games in Wisconsin. Everyone makes a deal with the Devil in some manner or form. The question, I suppose, lies in the risks you're willing to assume. If you live along the Gulf Coast, as I did for 10 years, you learn how to manage and live with the risks. From April through October, you watch the weather forecasts a bit more closely. When there's a storm in the Caribbean, that attentiveness gets ratcheted up a bit. In the back of your mind, you have a plan for escape/evacuation should a major hurricane head your way. This is simply the reality of how life is lived in this part of the world. Sometimes Mother Nature just whacks you...and there's not a thing you can do to stop or even delay it. You learn to react and do what you need to do in order to protect yourself and your loved ones, and you also, at least on some level, live with the reality that you just might lose every physical possession that's important to you. I have at least one friend who already has. No, I don't miss living here. Not one bit. I've been through a couple hurricanes and a few tropical storms, and while I admire the awesome power brought to bear, I don't miss the days of abject terror and uncertainty.
On a completely different, and decidedly less epic note, here's yet another reason why I don't miss living in Houston: the mosquitoes here are HUGE! Even worse, they LOVE me; I must be like "the other white meat" to them. I'm beginning to feel like I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear in a kennel full of underfed Rottweilers. With all the standing water around this area, there are parts of town where mosquitoes are more than just a nuisance; they're just plain maddening. If these things were any bigger, they'd need passports.
No, I don't miss living in Houston. Not. One. Little. Bit. I've been here for a week, and with each passing day, my resolve is stronger. I like the people, but I hate the heat, the humidity, the traffic, and the (&^%$#@ mosquitoes...and not necessarily in that order. Yes, I'm here, and what I'm doing here is turning into something surprisingly rewarding on a personal level. It's nice to be able to make a difference and make a contribution, however small, toward helping to put the Houston-Galveston area back together. That doesn't mean I have any desire at all to move back here. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. No way, no how, no McCain...oh, wait; that has nothing to do with what I'm talking about, does it? Ah well, no one's going to read this, anyway..... ;-)
