Skip to main content

Icky-poo

I'd bet more than a few people in our area and other parts of the Midwest have described the current flooding situation as "shitty."

Frighteningly so.

First, there's the fact that wastewater sewers have backed up into the floodwaters. Then there's the pastures of cow dung, dog park deposits, septic tank seepage, etc., that have been overcome by raging rivers. And I'm sure if I thought about it, I could come up with some other sources of fetid fecal matter finding their way into the waterways that once were our streets, bike paths, homes, favorite restaurant hangouts and beloved hubs of campus cultural activity.

The local TV anchors can't stop talking about it. Granted, they're performing a community service by warning people like my nutty photog husband that the unsanitary stew they're all eager to slosh around in contains very nasty stuff. Despite the seriousness, these TV nutballs titter and stammer as they describe the various contents. One woman kept saying "there's FEEEEEE-SEEEEEES," just like that, drawn out, over and again. Another guy insisted on calling it poo. Another couldn't even utter any euphemism at all. He was speechless (astounding for a broadcaster, don't you think?). And my personal favorite was the woman who said, "There is a lot of C-R-A-P out there," actually spelling it out, not wanting to offend genteel Midwestern sensibilities.

Nevermind all the other hazardous wastes that have been swept downstream -- gas, paints, industrial chemicals, batteries, medical supplies, fertilizers, pesticides. A public health microbiologist at the UI took this opportunity to share with everyone the hair-raising hazards of floodwaters. Keep the Pepto handy if you decide to read it all.

In Cedar Rapids, they've been struggling to keep their water supply available, urging citizens to stop flushing their toilets. So then came the variety of suggestions on how to keep your house smelling floral fresh in spite of the no-flush order. One brilliant suggestion: pour Windex in the bowl. I guess in addition to masking the odors, it'll make your porcelain streak-free.

Needless to say, there are not a lot of people suddenly getting the munchies while watching our 24-7 flood coverage. The situation's leaving everyone ill-at-ease enough as it is without pondering the pollutants being absorbed into the flora, fauna, flooring and facades of our community.

The whole situation stinks, wouldn't you say?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...