staring down the smoking barrel

After some victorious runnings-in with a with a classic Dirty Harry 44, I wish I could say this post was about that...it is not. The barrel is pointed the wrong way.


The hills to the North and West of Pasadena have been on fire for over a week now. I spend my days running from the toxic fumes, and my nights in a sickly splendor with the deep red flames. Where I live, I am not nearly as threatened as where I work, but nowhere in the surrounding 50 miles is unaffected. I know people who have lived here longer than I have been alive who can attest that this is the wildest wildfire they have seen, and it is already topping historic charts--IT IS NOW THE LONGEST AND LARGEST IN CALIFORNIA HISTORY!! I have been waiting for long overdue "big one" to shake the Texan flat lander out of me--a quake for those of you who live on Mars. I have not met this devastation yet, but I am becoming all too familiar and all too concerned about the state of my lungs in this depressing air quality. And, yes, that's right, I said it this air quality. Congrats, Pittsburgh.

I can feel the smog levels of Los Angeles on a bad day, but this is constant, aching and concerning. I can't find consistent coverage of it on the tube, I find few updates online, and hear a little more on the radio. I don't know if those of you that are outside of my area, or back home are hearing about it, but if you have not, welcome to a notch in the belt of my history, and the global history of our atmosphere. Hold you breath, clutch your air purifiers and pray for the people who live nearest the flames. No man, woman, child or pet is safe. But short of the two firefighters who have lost their lives, we are all still here to talk about it.

On a highly selfish and wholly personal note, I wish this fire could have come a year ago so it would just be an icky memory of my experience here, rather than a welcoming tragedy to Patrick. He has safely made the trek cross-country to hold my hand for infinity. I am pleased to have it to hold back, but my other hand is firmly pressed across my nose and lips.

Dear God: please don't hit us with the big one before the firefighters are able to beat this big one.