Thursday, June 5, 2014
I don't know who wrote this, so for now, I'll credit it to "Anonymous".
Hey, y'all. Happy hurricane season! (June 1 till November 30). Here's a big ole 'fuck you' to State Farm Insurance and the entire insurance industry for stealing even more money from hard-working middle class folks. We got a letter a few months ago saying we're no longer covered if our home receives damage during a 'named hurricane'. I cussed out everyone I could find while they hemmed and hawed. It's yet another government scam to take our money and give us nothing in return. I still have to pay several thousand dollars a year for insurance, but I'm just not covered pretty much half the year. Hell, about the only time a person in Louisiana has damage to their home is during hurricane season! And for the record, I'm nowhere near the coast. (Phew, I feel better...steppin' off my soap box for now.....)
I have searched and searched for the origin of that poem. I don't know where I got it or when, but found it glued into one of my old journals, so I'm sure I found it somewhere on the Internet---or not. I do still have my trusty typewriter, but I haven't drug it out in too many moons to count. I love, love, love this poem or beginning of a poem. I, too, was born in the heart of hurricane season (on the full moon in the sign of Moonchild) and truly wish I had written this, but I didn't.
If you wrote it or know who did, please let me know.
It was one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit at windows, listening for the thunder which they know will shortly break; when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes and earthquakes; and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonely ships at sea, struck by lightning. ~Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit, Chapter XLII
The wind shows us how close to the edge we are. ~Joan Didion