The Day the Honeybadger Accepted Mother Nature
Monday, August 29, 2011 at 4:02AM in Alafair Burke I pride myself on being a person who can TCB, take care of business. If I see a problem, I fix it. If someone says it can't be done, I figure out a way. I have plans, back-up plans, and back-ups to the back-up. There's a reason some of my friends have taken to calling me Honeybadger. (From this inexplicably viral video: "The honeybadger has been referred to by the Guiness Book of World Records as the most fearless animal in all of the animal kingdom. It really doesn't give a shit.")
So when I heard that all the Irene nonsense was threatening to interfere with my book event yesterday at Mystery Lovers Bookshop in Pittsburgh with Laura Lippman, I got to work. I stalked Irene on the internet like a bad ex-boyfriend, anticipating her descent on the city. I moved my return flight to Monday. I booked an extra night in a hotel. I figured out when I would make up my Tuesday classes at the law school, just in case.
Laura kindly offered to let me detour to her place in Baltimore if necessary, so I was armed with an arsenal of options and information: all flight and train schedules from Pittsburgh, Baltimore, and DC. I was going to kick Irene's butt.
But then something changed Friday afternoon. The mayor announced the closure of the entire public transit system starting at noon, a good eight hours before the earliest predictions of the storm. Car services stopped taking bookings to the airport. Still, I had faith my Saturday morning flight would be fine. Surely the airline would want to move planes out of the New York area.
Friday night, I got the news. My flight was canceled.
My inner honeybadger refused to give up. I could take the morning train to Baltimore in time to hop into Laura's car. The two of us would Thelma and Louise it to Pittsburgh (minus the rape, robbery, and suicide pact, of course). I would stay in the hotel and write until the storm passed. I would be the victor!
And then someone saner than I spoke up. In a calm, neutral voice, she asked me to imagine that the worst, most hysterical predictions were accurate. Did I really want to be on a train heading into the storm? Did I really want to risk not being able to get home in time for class? How would I feel in the hotel, watching the storm on the news if I couldn't get hold of my husband and the Duffer?
So at the end of the day on Friday, I did something I rarely do. I gave up. Or gave in. I accepted that some things weren't worth fighting. I may think I'm more clever than the average bear (okay, I am more clever than the average bear). But I can't predict the unpredictable. I can't control the weather. And as much as I adore Mary Alice and Richard at Mystery Lovers Bookshop, as much as I love me some Laura Lippman, this one wasn't going to happen.
I suppose I could feel beaten. I imagine some would say I should have to resign my Honeybadger status. But I think even the Honeybadger knows when to pick its battles.
As it turns out, Irene went out with a whimper, but there was no way to know that in advance and therefore no reason to have regrets. Added bonus: The weekend turned out to be a pretty cool time in the city.
Impromptu Irene book lending library in my apartment building lobby
When was the last time you decided not to try to control something? What happened?
P.S. Speaking of my canceled event with Laura, here is a nice joint interview in the Pittsburgh paper about the benefits of a shared tour event. Some of you may enjoy it. Be sure to pick up a copy of Laura's new book, The Most Dangerous Thing. She's such a major talent!
Laura Lippman, weather 
Reader Comments (16)
I'm a control freak, and I have major anxiety issues, so, NOT controlling for me presents somewhat of an issue, because even if I tell myself in my head I can't control everything, I often tend to panic about it. So, I don't really give up control easily. In fact, as I keep trying to think of an example of the last time I gave up control, I can't think of any. I suppose flying to me is giving up HUGE control. I'm one of these people who knows we're much more likely to die in a car accident than a plane accident, but I have the false sensation of control when I'm driving, and that calms me immensely. I have to fly twice this week and I don't like it one little bit. Worse, my MOTHER has to fly, and here's that panic thing again.
Yeah, that's me for ya :)
The last time I recall doing this, giving up on something, was when I was headed to a new doctoral program with an advisor I wanted and that I'd planned on and prepared for - for years. I was accepted but wasn't given any money, So I quick applied to a different program and they gave me money. When I arrived at the welcoming dinner for new students, on the other coast, in walked the professor who was going to be my advisor in the other program. She was there as a guest professor for the year. Sometimes I just get lucky. Then she turned out to be a nasty bitch, and I was glad I was where I was. Luck again.
Reine, That's hilarious. I've also had those fortuitous better paths in my life.
150,000 power outages. 275 roads flooded or washed out, including four highways/routes. We lost at least four bridges, counting only those I've seen washed away in videos; one covered bridge stood since 1760. At least 50 different places where flooding cut off a street or neighborhood, no way out, even if the residents (without power in most cases) were fine. Falling trees, flying branches. I'm not going to go into the dozens of places-- including a trailer park and senior group home-- that had to be evacuated due to flooding.
And, miraculously, the highest report is only four deaths.
Irene didn't hit hard in the places it was supposed to, but some places still got slammed. It did NOT go out with a whimper.
-Alaina
The last time this happened to me -- and another time, longer ago, even more devastating -- are both too raw and too personal, so we won't go there. But the most memorable times I had to make a hard decision between keeping on and stopping, giving in, was when I had to put down one or the other of the dogs. It was a case of -- I'm going to admit that no amount of money and willful wishful thinking can turn mortality around. They're old, they're sick, they're hurting, it's a gentle way to go, all things considered. Sucks though. I miss them all. Magical little beasts. Friends.
Love the people who love you back when the chance is there. Won't be forever, as you so wisely realized. Mary Alice and Richard are lovely folks, two of the loveliest in the biz. Laura's a gas. But. And as you noted, it turned out to be a great weekend in the city. One to remember, I'll bet. Not just for you, but Sean and Duffer too.
When we had the storms hit us a few years ago (152mph winds that removed part of our roof) we had no power for a week afterwards - in the middle of January. Fortunately, the insulation is really good in our house and the place didn't get cold, even with about a third of the slates missing from the roof. We played a lot of Scrabble by candlelight, and worked on the laptops which we could then recharge in the car. Glad it didn't last more than a week, though. A friend in Florida told us we are now fully paid-up members of the Huff, Puff and Blow Your House Down Club.
What is that old saying, though? Give me the strength to change the things I can, the patience to ignore the things I can't, and the wisdom to recognise the difference.
Good luck to everyone who's affected by this.
Today is the anniversary of Katrina so appropriate post.
David and Stephen, Funny that you both mention marriage and how you have to learn to live your life knowing that you matter to someone else. I've been thinking of ways to work that into the book I'm working on now, and thinking through my response to the weekend helped me see that marriage has changed me.
Judy, it was so absurdly quiet. No construction. No horns. No buses or subway squeals. Duffer didn't get too much walking in because I was worried about a limb falling on him (not on me, mind you, just him), but he is doing really well. Thanks!
- Tammy, who is very glad that, as bad as Irene was, it wasn't a whole lot worse.