250,000 people evacuated. Miles of land ruined. Billions of dollars in property destroyed Depleted resources and responders. The National Guard’s been called. Another state turned disaster area. No end in sight. And it’s only Monday.

Sound familiar?

Yeah, me, too.

Funny thing, as I sit with smoke filling my little corner of SoCal—so far, we’re okay, haven’t been evac’d yet; God will it, we won’t—all I could do is two things (1) Pray. (2) Watch TV.

For starters, prayer is comforting. Prayer is power. Forget what you hear, prayer reminds you that God’s in charge, even when all rational-thinking says otherwise.

Unfortunately, watching TV (and double-clicking) reminds me that outside of the firefighters, no one else has a clue what they’re doing.

Folks, the big blue thing to the left---that’s called the Pacific Ocean. Been there for a minute now. Yet Somehow, despite the fact that 5% or more of this state burns every year—so much so that they have something out here called “fire season”—there’s no plan ever on how to get the water to the fire.

Lemme run that back again. When you have anything that happens enough times with enough frequency that it has it’s own season as in “fire season”, you should have a comprehensive contingency plan for dealing with it. Yet all I’m seeing so far from officials on TV is, “Uh, didn’t realize it take off in that direction!”

I didn’t realize Brown and Blanco were moonlighting out in Cali, too.

I’m from Chicago—seriously considering moving back now. Back in Chi, snow’s the big thing. We got blizzards. We got salt, trucks, shovels, extra manpower, all kinds of charts and maps and stuff in glass cases that gets broken when it snows real hard.

Why? Cuz blizzards in Chicago kill people and destroy property. You gotta prepare for ‘em.

Now, is it a hustle? Sure. When there’s no blizzard, you best believe Mayor Daley’s cousin, his nephew and his wife are on the payroll. You can also count on trucks disappearing and budgets swelling beyond belief. And God forbid that anyone ever does an audit—then you’ll find the kickbacks and mob pay-offs. But one thing’s for sure: when the snow comes, the trucks and shovels follow and stuff gets handled.

This is a fire, people. Near water. Where are the hoses? Overpay. Get a little scam going where your outta-work nephew starts a pipe and hose business and charges 5 times what anybody else does.... get his azz off the couch and working. Give “cousin jimmy” one job—run the pipes and hoses from the water to the fires. Then flip a switch.

One job—pay him way too much money to do it. People will get pissed off 11 months outta year. Except for right now.

Right now, they’ll wanna name a street after him—any of soaking wet ones that haven’t been burned to the ground thanks to him.

Look, I’m simplifying this, because I’m mad.

More to come. Meanwhile...

Pray for rain. Lots of rain.