A Carolina wren, the earliest of our early birds, sang to me from the top of a cedar as I reconnected our fresh-water supply around 6:30am today. The overnight low had been predicted to touch the freezing mark, so it only made sense to unhitch from the well last night and hook up again this morning.
With the winterizing scheme removed, it was no trouble at all.
Calm winds allowed me to make short work of a routine trash fire. The only other task on my list today was dumping the tanks, which I did.
It feels like we have things in good order up here. There are few real difficulties and even fewer unwanted surprises. That, it seems to me, is as it should be.
To follow up on yesterday’s post, which addressed candidly our preps ahead of the total solar eclipse, a couple of questions remain. They’re more fundamental, not specific to the current situation.
Why are Deb and I so committed to readiness? What are we getting ready for?
Both questions can be answered by taking a critical look at Americans’ behavior around various crises.
The most obvious example is what I (and many others) call “The French Toast Effect.” It’s comically common for folks to react to warnings of incoming severe weather by running to the grocery — and for what? Bread, milk and eggs. Store shelves soon are empty.
Another illustration, in my experience, is what happens when the threat of “gun control” makes headlines. Long lines form quickly at LGSs across the country, people buying up whatever’s available until, like those French toast fixins, shelves are wiped bare.
What followed the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001 is yet another case study in irrational behavior. Government pounced on the opportunity to enact repressive (and largely theatrical) “security” measures, and the masses were only too willing to surrender individual Liberty in return for the illusion of safety.
The last example I’ll share — and I’m sure you saw this coming — is WuFlu. A virus with a statistical yawner of a mortality rate spawned unprecedented State mandates that decimated Liberty, wrecked the economy and poisoned an already un-American culture. People complied, too, reflexively and fearfully, even submitting to participating in a worldwide medical experiment with ramifications we won’t fully understand for a generation.
Those four illustrations have a couple of things in common. First, the events themselves — storms, gun laws, terrorist attacks, a virus — affected very few Americans directly or immediately, if at all.
And second, in each case the real damage was done not by the original events but by reactions to them. That is, whether it comes from the State or from the People (or both), the reaction creates the crisis.
So why do Deb and I prepare? Because we’ve seen human nature on full display. People are complacent, lazy, dependent, ignorant and, most of all, arrogant. They always wait ’til the last minute (or after the fact). They’re more devoted to being cool than they are to being ready.
And what do we prepare for? The reaction. We can be absolutely sure that folks’ response to a situation will be worse than the situation itself. We’re equally confident that government, through ad hoc mandates or statutory “emergency powers,” will exploit every crisis (lest it go to waste.)
That said, in prepping there’s one trap that must be avoided at all costs. It springs on us slowly, imperceptibly whenever, say, a storm misses us or isn’t as bad as was predicted. An “assault weapons” ban fails to pass Congress. Two decades go by without a major terrorist attack on the homeland. A town doesn’t enforce WuFlu restrictions. The corner store is always well-stocked with TP.
We can’t allow ourselves to be lulled to sleep. I know, the weatherman is always wrong — except, of course, when he’s right.
That’s why Deb and I prepare all the time, so we’re ready every time. And no, we still don’t give a shit what you think of that.
I truly don’t anticipate any sort of crisis to come out of Monday’s eclipse. If something unexpected happens, it likely won’t affect us directly or immediately. We’ll just hang out on The Mountain and avoid soft targets.
With a low risk factor, then, we look at the eclipse as an exercise, a dry run of sorts. Not only does it give us occasion to assess our preps, it also puts human nature on the national stage.
And we’ll be watching.
Our fire pit at White Rock isn’t too far off the road. Sitting on a stump next to the fire ring, through the trees I can see a stretch of the dirt-and-gravel track. (See today’s header image.) When I drive up the road and look to my left, I can just make out my tarped woodpile.
I spent a little time there this morning, listening to wild turkeys talk to each other. I noticed that the road isn’t quite as visible as it was even a few days ago. Very soon, White Rock will be completely hidden. That’ll be pretty cool.
Emerging from the woods after my respite, I saw a minor repair calling for my attention. I’d taken down the three flags we fly from the cabin when it got absurdly windy the other day, but not before a strong gust snapped the wooden flagstick holding the Arkansas banner.
Today I zipped the stick with a circular saw, above the break. All of our flags are up again, with the state flag now flying about six inches lower than the other two.
Deb has an hour for lunch each work day. Usually she drives down to the city park or up to the picnic area on the west edge of town, and we message back and forth. Today she reported,
“Traffic is heavy out front on Route 62. Usually we see a car on the road every couple of minutes. Today it’s been non-stop. State cop sitting here watching for speeders. Dollar General is slammed, 50/50 locals and tourists.”
This fascinates me. What I’ve learned from researching the “eclipse tourism” phenomenon is that enthusiasts hedge their bets, often making multiple reservations along the path of totality. They watch weather forecasts closely and don’t commit to a destination until 72 or even 48 hours before the astronomical event.
In this case, that’d be today or tomorrow.
No doubt local residents’ collective southern hospitality will be tested, but I couldn’t be happier for businesses in the area. It’ll be a welcome boost before the normal travel season kicks off next month.
Am I suggesting that Ozarkansas will have favorable conditions for viewing the total solar eclipse? No, I don’t believe I said that. I’m gonna keep my word and wait ’til we’re closer to 1:54pm Monday before I say (or believe) anything.
Maybe tomorrow.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB