Furnishing The Apocalypse, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:40am

That’s my sky this morning. No longer orange (excellent article on the extreme angst of that phenomenon), now toxic (a good article on the facts. because the angst of truly poisoned air is something for philosophers and science fiction, not the news. I think of that Ray Bradbury story, The Martian Chronicles.)

People are kind, sending their condolences on the fires. But in truth, as a garden-variety self-absorbed person, I can ignore the conflagrations. They are miles away. I can’t ignore breathing.

I just want to tell you one thing, urgently. Our weather has always been temperate. You know that movie, LA Story? The bit when Steve Martin plays hooky from his weatherman job, tapes a segment saying it’s sunny, but it pours rain that day? Could have happened. And sure, I’m up here in the northern part of the state, but we have been used to weeks on end of blue sky in summer. Temperatures used to range, every so gently, between 75 and 82. 85 was hot.

That has changed. I struggle to communicate to you how alien it feels. See, our weather IS us. California houses, for example, cost what they do because of our climate. One of the towns here on the Peninsula posts a sign on their main street that says, “Climate best by government test.” We lived with doors wide open for nine months of the year.

Maybe an analogy would be you wake up one morning in Denver, fling wide your windows, to find the entire city has sunk to sea level, and the mountains, disappeared.

I wish I were superhuman, and astonishingly virtuous, but I am not. Do you fight something awful, or console yourself? Both, probably. I will start my political phone-banking this week. And, you may not be surprised, I’m thinking about a new chair. I want to redo my “studio” to accommodate the way I really work, i.e. curled up on something upholstered, with my laptop on, well, my lap. I’m thinking this:

and deciding amongst these swatches, for a start. Perhaps more neutrals will make my writing more colorful. Never hurts to experiment.

Our skies are supposed to turn blue again by Tuesday.

All the privilege in the world can only buy distraction. I am OK. But it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay that way. I hope you are OK. I wish OK were more easily available for all.

Oh, and comments still don’t work here. Come find me on Instagram or Twitter at @AmidPrivilege and say hi, if you are so inclined. Have a good weekend, and please don’t let my thoughts add to your burden. This is not my best work but it’s the best I can do right now, and I’m sure you’re doing your best too.