Death to the Standells
Here we are in Day 3 of Boston's water disaster story. First, I'm wondering which Boston media outlet will be the first to recognise that endless repetition, or riffs on, Dirty Water qualify as Bostonian water torture. I can't get that fricken song out of my head!
This is the sort of disaster story that appeals to my sardonic side. It would be more amusing had we not been out of town all day Saturday, arriving home after 9. Neither of us bothered to catch any local news before bed, and I ended the day as usual by dropping my usual evening handful of geezer pills, washed down with a glass of tap water.
Oops. This is why most people drank beer and wine instead of water for centuries.
The story is still fodder for amusement. Top of the list is the fact that my town is one of two which are rather far out on the North Shore (surrounded by communities belonging to other water agencies) which get water from the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority (MWRA). That whole drama played out nearly 40 years ago, and going with MWRA seemed like a good idea at the time.
Getting water, and watching people get water, is hilarious. One lesson I took from spending much of my childhood on a small island in a somewhat polluted lake is how little potable water you really need. On Sunday I went a couple of towns over and picked up ten gallons. That allowed one for our water-finicky cats, two for present needs (plus a couple of litres of boiled tap water) and one for our depleted hurricane inventory. Today my spouse called to tell me to go over to the water department for our water ration. I did, figuring there would be no harm in picking up another gallon or two. But no: I found myself in an auto queue. When I got to the head, I didn't get to ask. Someone opened the back door, hoisted in two cases of brand-name bottled water, and someone else signaled me out of the Water Department driveway.
We now have something like 64 litres of bottled and boiled water.
Returning to my water purchase on Sunday, it was interesting to watch people get a lesson in applied natural science when they approached buying water the same way they approach hoarding cold cuts, bread and chips for a six-inch snowfall. When I walked into my target supermarket, I found the water right inside the front door, of course. I also found ahead of me this short, rotund, rather geekish-looking fellow earnestly filling every available space of his shopping cart with 2.5 gallon water bottles. I think he had ten when he finished. However, his geekishness evidently didn't extend to understanding that as these bottles weigh 20 pounds each, the more you pile on the cart, the more the load will weigh. He had broken into a considerable sweat by the time he shoved his 200 pounds of water into the nearest checkout line. If he lived in a third floor walkup, he was in for a busy afternoon.
One of the core items of the media panic story has been, of course, "the stores are out of water!" That was evidently true Saturday afternoon and evening. It was less and less so throughout Sunday morning. By the time I reached my objective at 11:30 Sunday morning, water was coming in so fast that supply and demand were approaching equilibrium. Today, in my town, I'd have to say that supply exceeds demand. If I ever had any doubts about the merits of a just-in-time delivery system, they'd have vanished watching the process of meeting this demand. If we reach resolution by Thursday (which seems likely), it will be equally interesting to see how fast the surplus inventory gets packed up and shipped someplace else.
Although the MWRA and the state generally have done a reasonably good job dealing with the emergency, the same isn't necessarily true at the municipal level. For example, my town busily sent out flyers and local news releases stating that bathing qualified as a non-essential activity forbidden under the emergency decrees. This was at the same time that the MWRA was saying that it's safe to bathe and shower as long as one doesn't swallow the water.
It has been hot in Massachusetts since this happened: as hot as a typical three-day run in July or August, and in my town it's town meeting week. Town meeting debates can get pretty ripe, but if enough voters follow the local decree, the meeting will get riper still.
Late news. This is too funny: it's National Drinking Water Week!
This is the sort of disaster story that appeals to my sardonic side. It would be more amusing had we not been out of town all day Saturday, arriving home after 9. Neither of us bothered to catch any local news before bed, and I ended the day as usual by dropping my usual evening handful of geezer pills, washed down with a glass of tap water.
Oops. This is why most people drank beer and wine instead of water for centuries.
The story is still fodder for amusement. Top of the list is the fact that my town is one of two which are rather far out on the North Shore (surrounded by communities belonging to other water agencies) which get water from the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority (MWRA). That whole drama played out nearly 40 years ago, and going with MWRA seemed like a good idea at the time.
Getting water, and watching people get water, is hilarious. One lesson I took from spending much of my childhood on a small island in a somewhat polluted lake is how little potable water you really need. On Sunday I went a couple of towns over and picked up ten gallons. That allowed one for our water-finicky cats, two for present needs (plus a couple of litres of boiled tap water) and one for our depleted hurricane inventory. Today my spouse called to tell me to go over to the water department for our water ration. I did, figuring there would be no harm in picking up another gallon or two. But no: I found myself in an auto queue. When I got to the head, I didn't get to ask. Someone opened the back door, hoisted in two cases of brand-name bottled water, and someone else signaled me out of the Water Department driveway.
We now have something like 64 litres of bottled and boiled water.
Returning to my water purchase on Sunday, it was interesting to watch people get a lesson in applied natural science when they approached buying water the same way they approach hoarding cold cuts, bread and chips for a six-inch snowfall. When I walked into my target supermarket, I found the water right inside the front door, of course. I also found ahead of me this short, rotund, rather geekish-looking fellow earnestly filling every available space of his shopping cart with 2.5 gallon water bottles. I think he had ten when he finished. However, his geekishness evidently didn't extend to understanding that as these bottles weigh 20 pounds each, the more you pile on the cart, the more the load will weigh. He had broken into a considerable sweat by the time he shoved his 200 pounds of water into the nearest checkout line. If he lived in a third floor walkup, he was in for a busy afternoon.
One of the core items of the media panic story has been, of course, "the stores are out of water!" That was evidently true Saturday afternoon and evening. It was less and less so throughout Sunday morning. By the time I reached my objective at 11:30 Sunday morning, water was coming in so fast that supply and demand were approaching equilibrium. Today, in my town, I'd have to say that supply exceeds demand. If I ever had any doubts about the merits of a just-in-time delivery system, they'd have vanished watching the process of meeting this demand. If we reach resolution by Thursday (which seems likely), it will be equally interesting to see how fast the surplus inventory gets packed up and shipped someplace else.
Although the MWRA and the state generally have done a reasonably good job dealing with the emergency, the same isn't necessarily true at the municipal level. For example, my town busily sent out flyers and local news releases stating that bathing qualified as a non-essential activity forbidden under the emergency decrees. This was at the same time that the MWRA was saying that it's safe to bathe and shower as long as one doesn't swallow the water.
It has been hot in Massachusetts since this happened: as hot as a typical three-day run in July or August, and in my town it's town meeting week. Town meeting debates can get pretty ripe, but if enough voters follow the local decree, the meeting will get riper still.
Late news. This is too funny: it's National Drinking Water Week!
Labels: Boston water supply, media criticism
posted by Uncle | 00:01
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