What’s Not Funny

The California wildfires. I think the seriousness of this is clear to anyone with a heart and a brain.

When I lived in Los Angeles, the neighborhood was Brentwood, next to Santa Monica, and being 27 years old, I could ride my bike to the pier, Venice Beach or Malibu. At least one of my professors lived in Pacific Palisades and one might be in Malibu where I would take a backpack of books and notebooks and sit by the ocean, read, and write. It felt so safe then.

I’m finding it so upsetting to watch this destruction and I’m far from it, myself very safe. I can not fathom losing a home, and all it contains. With an awful lot of expense, time, and work (a lot), some can be replaced but much can not.

And the awfulness of having to flee. Exhausted on the the highway with a little luggage and not knowing what. And the children must have been scared, so scared, still must be.

Already lives lost and that’s probably not over yet.

First responders. What does one even say, best of the best, just wanting for their safety and for them to be back with their families, having done surely the bravest thing.

Those who can, making donations, some very generous. Even Airbnb, free housing. Gosh even Jimmy Kimmel, opening his home to neighbors and their dogs and holding back tears.

Volunteers rescuing animals from shelters.

Neighbors bringing food and water by the boxload.

World Central Kitchen offering free healthy meals. (I just added WCK to my donation list.)

Best of the best.

And now looters. Yes, I’m typing this, what POS. There will be prosecutions and convictions, fingers crossed. Don’t focus on that.

Focus instead on an awful lot of decency and generosity and practical help right now.

Best of the best.