Being Prepared

[Disclaimer; Only 12 or 13 days since the last daily installment. I don’t have any good excuse. Anyway, there is no evidence to suggest that the habits of a writer are transmitted to a reader. You have nothing to worry about. The following words have been assembled with care so that they will not harm you.]

Preface: Independence and a Dreaded Nine-Month Anniversary

Independence

The first part of the title should not startle anyone in America. Last Thursday was July 4, Independence Day. Some stores were closed, and we knew that would be the case. So everybody, including I, prepared the day before, and bought things we thought we needed. I drove down to Mayaguez, to Sam’s Club. And, to make it a real, I mean almost real 4th of July, I got some hamburger patties – vegetarian hamburger patties – vegan hamburger patties with a Circle K kosher symbol.

I also bought some shredded cheese and some salad stuff. Oh,and I got a watermelon! That was a lucky score. I think I’ll go get me a taste of it right now. Excuse me. . . You’re right, I should at least finish this preface before I reward myself for anything. So here it comes – a rushed and reckless end to the preface.

July 4th was not too special in Aguadilla. I did not see people congregating at the park for picnics or entertainment. Somebody local had a few fireworks. But there was no glorious display to be seen, like we see on New Year’s Eve.

As for me, I planned to mark this Independence Day as the day I remove myself from the depression cocoon, and declare my legitimacy as a person. I aim to maintain my independence from whatever anybody else in the world tells me about me or about anything they know less about than I do. Depression and suppression go hand in hand, both make you vulnerable as hell to abuse. When you’re depressed you are too weak to fight your way up when people look down on you. You’re even too weak to fight back when you look down upon yourself, which is probably at the very core of depression, putting yourself down.

When I got back from Israel, I immediately sank into a deep depression, and stopped talking to people. It’s not as if I had anybody to talk to anyway, but now there were moments I wouldn’t even talk to myself, or I wouldn’t listen when I did talk to myself.

The depressing state of the world is going to continue or not continue regardless of how we feel about things. I knew this but I wasn’t living it. For years I have been telling myself to remain positive, and here I had a lapse for over a month. A couple weeks before the fourth of July, I decided it was time to live again. I began by noticing things – little things – to be happy about. By the 4th of July I had accumulated enough things to be happy about I was able to launch myself straight out of the cocoon and begin living again on my terms.

Dreaded Nine-Month Anniversary

Today is the Nine-Month Anniversary of the October 7 tragedy in Israel. The war in Gaza has continued for 9 months. More than a hundred hostages – without knowing how many are still alive – have been held in Gaza for nine months, today. Israel is still negotiating October 7, nine months later. So am I. But, painful as it continues to be, I can no longer allow this pain to control me. And neither should Israel.

We need to endure the pain, and keep moving on with our lives. That does not mean giving up on the hostages. It does not mean giving up on defeating the Palestinians. If anything, we should use the pain to invigorate our resolve to bringing the hostages home, and crushing the enemy completely.

We cannot allow the cruel actions of others to enslave us. Whether by getting depressed by what is going on in the world, or by grieving for fallen soldiers and hostages in captivity, the only way forward is through optimism – extreme optimism.

Hope will make us prepared for life.

Being Prepared

Now that the preface is over, we can make our way to today’s (and recent days’) adventures.

A couple weeks ago, I received a text message that was sent to the wrong phone number. It happens. But this text message led to a series of events that led me to revisit the literature and audiobooks I used to accumulate relating to self-awareness, personal development, success, that sort of stuff. So well before the Fourth of July, I was already getting into the mode of positivity, that everything happens for a reason, that if we make the decision to be winners, we are destined to win.

Monday, July 1, I was scheduled to see the doctor. As I was getting ready to go, the doctor’s office called and said we had to re-schedule the appointment. Why? Because they were pouring new asphalt on the pavements, and it caused an obstacle to entering the doctor’s offices. No problem. We re-scheduled for Wednesday at 11:00.

Wednesday morning I planned to go to the bowling alley and then to Sam’s Club after seeing the doctor. So, I drove to the parking lot of the strip mall where Autozone is, and I walked from there to the doctor’s office.

Just when I found the doctor’s office, an assistant told me to check my phone. Sure enough the doctor had left a message to re-schedule again because many of her patients had Covid. No problem, we scheduled for next week. And I walked to the bowling alley.

Winning

A large group of children was at the bowling alley. I imagine it was like a summer camp, or summer activities for kids. There were also several open lanes, and the desk gave me one toward the center.

It was nice seeing kids and hearing them having a good time at the bowling alley. It was also good to be apart from them.

I changed my shoes and found my ball, “#15 extra large,” it says. I set up the display with just my name, no snapshot, and went up to the lane. I held my hand over the little fan to keep it dry, then I picked up my ball and found my place on the lane. It was the first time in months. I leaned over a little, holding the ball in front of me, and studied the lane, where the center pin was, where the center arrow on the floor was.

Finally I slowly strode forward, swung the ball back and then forward straight – or almost straight – down the lane. My first ball – the first ball in months – was a strike! See? Winning already!

I played three games, mostly uneventful. And I watched the family that was bowling two lanes up from me. Two parents and two kids. The smaller kid was really into bowling at that time. He used bumpers sometimes, and sometimes he didn’t. He seemed to be having a good time. The other kid showed no energy at all. He just kind of went up to the line, and without bending, just sort of dropped the bowling ball. I wanted to coach the kid, but his parents were there, no need for me to interfere.

Actually, the parents were inspirational. They brought their kids for a family outing, and it was nice to see. They were attentive to their children, and they played their own games, too. The woman did a better than her husband most of the game. Then in the last couple frames, the man pulled off a spare and a strike. After the strike, he knocked down about 5 pins on his first roll. In his second roll, he did not make a spare, but knocked down just enough pins to tie the score with his wife. It was a moment of excitement and the man and his wife hugged each other right in front of their children. It was great. That’s what winning looks like.

The Hurricane and The Sun

The main reason I went to Sam’s Club after bowling was that Hurricane Beryl was passing about 200 miles south of Puerto Rico, and it was a reminder to prepare for the event of a hurricane. I got some water and a few other things, but not really much in terms of preparation.

The next couple days, I got busy on my yardwork. At times I was bogged down by bloating, I seemed to overcome it by Friday. On Friday, I had energy to clean things up a little, and walk to the pharmacy and grocery store. I went to the pharmacy first to pick up a prescription. Walgreens was nicely air-conditioned, making it hard to leave, but I left for Agranel.

Agranel was also nicely air-conditioned, however I did not stay long. I went across the street to the food truck, and got a pastelillo to take home. The lady in the truck spoke Spanish differently than Puerto Ricans. I asked her if she was from Honduras, and she nodded her head, “Yes.”

The main event happened before I got to the main road on the way to the stores. I left my house and turned the corner to go up the street. Halfway up the street, I see someone has discarded his airconditioning units. They were the same as the ones that came with my house. I looked at them for a few seconds for tips on how to dismantle mine, then some Puerto Rican music filled the neighborhood. The owner of the house had work to do outside, and he liked his music while he worked.

So I continued walking up Tulipan Road which curves to the right. After the curve I saw a lady carrying an umbrella for shade. She stopped walking and took a big breath. I asked her if she was okay. Then I asked her if she needed water. I realized then that I had no water, but a short walk to the man with the music was no problem. She told me she was okay, and given the situation I was sure she was. And I walked on.

It sure taught me a lesson, though. You see, just a couple months earlier, while traveling toward Afula, I had to wait for a second bus at a bus stop near a shopping mall. At the bus stop, a man asked me if I had water. He needed to wet his face after being under the hot sun for awhile. Now I do not know why the guy believed I had water. Maybe he didn’t believe I did, but asked anyway. It just so happened that I had filled a thermos with ice water before leaving, and I was carrying the thermos in a tote bag.

Of course I unscrewed the lid and handed the thermos to the man. He carefully spilled a little into his hands and rubbed his face. Before he could finish asking if he could drink a little, I ordered him to drink some of the cool water.

Happy about what I had done in Israel, I do not know why I was not carrying water with me on the way to the store. So that’s the lesson I learned that day. To be prepared, always carry water.

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