Timing, as they say, is everything. Having decided that a change in career was in order, I packed the car, left the sale of the house in the very capable hands of my wife, and drove in the direction of the gulf coast. Luck was on my side, as my brother and his family would host me for the duration of a lengthy training period with a large company in the energy industry. We would be able to sell the house, load up the boy and the labrador retreiver, and resettle in the Texas or Louisiana gulf coast area. The plan was set and all we had to do was carry it out. A little time apart is nothing, and the future holds much business travel, for which I will be well compensated.
Then Ike came calling.
I don't like Ike.
I grew up along the Mississippi coast, but have not been through a Hurricane since 1985. I remembered that they were exciting, sometime scary inconveniences. In the same way that the memory of the pain of a broken bone or kidney stone or even, I am told, childbirth lessens as the years go by, I had forgotten how much hurricanes are a pain, even after the scenes of Katrina.
No power for two days. And we were the lucky ones. Many Houstonians are still without power and water, a miserable existence. Schools and business closed for at least a week, including my new employer, which delays the training period and the chance to begin to earn real money.
And, the stock market imploded, capital is questionable, banks and insurance companies are shaky and suddenly no one is interested in buying a wonderful, four bedroom home in the Omaha suburbs. Thank God that I have a loving, generous family with (hopefully) lots of patience. We are all going to need it.
Timing is everything.
