In search of wet ground

 

Not, you know, that I really want it to, but I wish it would. That is, if it's gonna at all. Flood, I mean. But waiting is hard. Can't plan much, knowing that something big is supposed to happen, but having no idea when, or how long it will last. A flood in slow-motion, where'd they come up with that?

Spent a chunk of the day out looking, figured the water must be closer in somewhere. Rode the SkyTrain out to the end of the line. Still dry. Went back, changed trains, down to Sathorn Pier, where you can cross the Chao Phraya to the Thonburi side. That, at least, showed the river tearing along at a ridiculous pace and

slightly cresting in many places.

I realized this morning that actually I have been on the ground in another disaster, the '89 Loma Prieta Earthquake in the San Francisco Bay Area. I always had the feeling that I had somehow caused that one. I had just gotten home from somewhere, and walked up to the front door. The second I put my key in the lock and turned, the whole world began shaking and wouldn't quit. Hey, what did I do?

Thinking back on that one, memories are very clear. We didn't have cell phones in those days, anybody remember? All the phone lines were down, or overloaded. I was in Berkeley. The two San Francisco bridges were down. BART (trans-bay subway) was knocked out. My daughter was supposed to come home from school in SF, but there was no way I could even find out where she was. I was supposed to play a gig at the Mark Hopkins that night, and though the power there was out, and all the staff was leaving, and the gig never actually happened, plus the business with no transport and no way to get in touch, I heard the band leader was complaining about me not showing up. Much more exciting than this slow, slow flood.

Well, folks, it's a slow news day. And that's really quite all right. The highest backward tidal surge of the is supposed to be happening right now, pushing levels higher from the sea end, and that was a hump they thought just might bring everything crashing down. If it doesn't, does that mean we might squeak through? 

Bizarre interlude: the grandson of Souvanna Phouma, the leader of a neutralist government in Laos during the Vietnam War, called me up while I was writing this and asked me if I could put together a Halloween band for his supper club. I was happy to say I couldn't do it. He's a nice guy, and all, and if I weren't busy, maybe I'd try to help out, but . . . it's nice that I have all this really cool stuff to do. So you're really going to have a Halloween party in the predicted 1-2 meters of water?

Breaking news says that levels are indeed rising, and that the pier where I took those pictures this afternoon is now slopping over. Will keep you posted, more tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm just sittin' pretty in my cozy little suite, working on my words. 

Stay tuned. Tomorrow we'll have some real fun. 

Tomorrow: well, I thought we would. Don't blame me!