Fight or Flight?

It’s a character flaw, I suppose, that my instinctual reaction to danger is to get the heck out of Dodge. You’ll never catch me standing ground against Mother Nature. When disaster strikes, I’m outta here.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for Hurricane Katrina survivors – and all those poor victims – who, by choice or circumstance, chose to ride the storm out. But those mislabeled folks who fled for higher ground are my soul mates. I guess that’s what Tom Petty meant by, “you don’t have to live like a refugee.”

Anyway, this “fight or flight” conundrum took hold of me around noon, when I learned the college – administrative offices at least; final exams would go on as scheduled at the predominately residential institution of uncommon sense – was shutting down in the midst of an ice storm. The dean of the faculty, bless her heart, vowed to man her post in her office in a locked administrative building until the threat had passed – or four o’clock, whichever came first.

After a quick lunch at the cafeteria – you never know where your next meal is going to come from, right? – I polled the local hotel market for available rooms and alternative energy sources, just as I had when a similar storm hit last February. I should have taken notes.

With all of the other schools in town shut down for the day, my kids were at home and/or a neighbor’s house, neither of which had power. The steady morning rain had the potential to cause widespread damage, which I witnessed first-hand while driving from work to the movie rental store. Sewers overflowing, tree limbs scattered about or leaning menacingly over the road, ice-covered power lines hanging dangerously low… and here I am driving past the grocery store to rent movies I could only hope to watch if power was restored. Fittingly, “Superbad” was out.

Our power was restored shortly after I got home, sparing me the dilemma of opening the garage door manually. Though I typically opt to wait until it’s over before clearing the walks, early removal was the key to success this day. Then, after a previously scheduled telephone interview didn’t pan out and the predicted confounding snowfall didn’t materialize, we ventured out to get the family Christmas tree.

Schedules and circumstance had prevented us from completing this important tradition yet and our windows of opportunity were few. So, as neighbors and fellow residents were chopping ice and sawing trees, we went from store to store seeking out our holiday bush. Isn’t it ironic?

I’d be a poor prospect for a bomb shelter salesman. It’s not that I throw caution to the wind so much as I find the whole idea of emergency preparedness to be as overblown as the local news. Knock on wood, rub a rabbit’s foot and wish upon a star, I’ve never had to endure a prolonged power outage like my blog partner did just about a year ago. And I never would.

I’d be out of town before finishing the first of that three-day supply of water and non-perishable food the emergency management folks recommend you keep on hand. Theoretically, of course, since I maintain no such emergency supply kit. The only three-day supply I know of is a trip to the grocery store. And the only response I know to danger is flight… and, it occurs to me after rereading this post, denial.