Are you getting enough "me" time?

As you settle in to your temporary quarters after mandatory evacuation, or prepare for mandatory evacuation, be sure to set aside some time for yourself.  Perhaps the flames are licking at your tires, maybe you are wondering whether you have enough gas in your tank, literally, to make it to Lyons, but take a page from our mayor's book of wonder, and pull over and do something while idling that you enjoy, maybe scuba diving in a kelp forest, maybe stamp collecting, maybe avoiding Mayor's Chats with impunity while pretending to serve the common man.  

As you read this, with SARS-CoV-2 cases rising locally and flames leapfrogging pine-to-pine over yonder hill, our mayor is in Wyoming, fishing and "recharging", not unobtrusively, and not as a western states government conference attendee, perhaps a Colorado River water rights compact representative or PRPA alternative fuel congress committee member, mixing serious business on forest management or vaccine distribution with a few moments of pleasure, but, unfortunately (and this is why our mayor has got to stop writing these columns, and why the local newspapers, for the sake of community sanity, have got to stop running them) not doing anything, and unapologetically BRAGGING about it.  The only thing more tone deaf would have been this picture at this time backed by a violin.  She needs time away to regroup from a busy summer of non-Mayor's Chats.  She deserves a furlough from battling the contentious Park Hospital District front lines (wait, did we elect her to the Park Hospital District board?).

While you are frantically rummaging for financial documents and hard drives and passports, tossing everything pell-mell into a half-zippered suitcase as you rush out the door, motor running, backing view obstructed by all the boxes and your kids stuffed animals piled in the rear window, rest assured our mayor is contemplative, in a distant state, not at the helm of a sinking ship, not shouting out encouragement or quelling worried fears, a la Roosevelt's fireside chats, but withdrawn, arrived already on a far distant shore, commandeering the lifeboat from the aged and infirm well in advance of the iceberg's scheduled approach, with no obvious desire to return any time soon (and again, she may cut her trip short and return post haste, and given the circumstances, she absolutely SHOULD cut her trip short and return post haste, but I have yet to see anything indicating as much on the town website or in a sheepish "oops, how poorly timed was that?" update, and hell, the museum already announced, in the Friday paper, practically in the same issue as the one trumpeting their long-delayed reopening, they will have to pre-emptively lock back down again for the foreseeable future because, well, you know, the full-time staff, what with Covid and them all in their 30s, needs a break from their break as well, and should they really be expected to sit at the front desk or answer the telephones when that's a job for the volunteers).

But of course we must tamp down criticism and generously extend our understanding, as we are simultaneously rounding up pets and checking our insurance and scrolling information for the nearest Red Cross center because, as is obvious, this was the only time available for our mayor to take a vacation from the demands of all the Mayor's Chats (none) and office hours (by appointment only, no drop-ins, building locked) and visits to downtown businesses (two, fleetingly) she has endured since assuming office six months ago, and since joining the hospital board two months ago (wait, did we elect the mayor to the hospital board?).  The grind of having to balance the job you were elected to with attendance at hospital board meetings you have no earthly business sticking your nose into is Grand Canyon-esque, a veritable time lapse of eons over eons of microstone on macrostone cranked up to the speed of light, really rough, plus wearing, in other words, donning the perpetual mask of mock concern while somehow avoiding touching the lumpen stuff is a trial, requiring lots and lots of down time.

Have you got a bite yet?  Are you capable of reeling the positive from the maelstrom?  Either you accept change or you are constantly unhappy, constantly lamenting change, and if your house or cabin burns to the ground in pursuit of that elusive rainbow, i.e., fleeing the conflagration while finding some "me " time, at least that's change, right?  Smile.