h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

This has been a strange day, so I thought I’d share it with you all.

For a start, as is reasonably well-established in this Journal, Canberra’s been in desperate drought for the last decade. This has changed suddenly over the last couple of weeks. The deluge on Thursday (a couple of inches of rain in 15-20 minutes) finally filled up all the dams; in fact, they’re overflowing. There’s flooding in the surrounding district.

Today started with me in the garden, which at that stage resembled the Somme, trying to clear the mess. Mud everywhere. Perversely, the easiest way to clear it away was to use more water, which is exactly what the garden doesn’t need right now. But that’s what I did, in between clearing away huge heaps of prunings and weeds I’d stacked up to dry out before disposal. Rather than drying, they’d turned to slime over the last two days... This was a perfectly disgusting way to spend the morning. I’ve never seen so many snails in one place before.

Once I’d hosed the pavers down, and done something similar to myself, I went into Woden – the local mega-mall – to get a decent broom for scrubbing down the concreted areas that have turned slimy. I couldn’t find what I was looking for but came home with a cocktail shaker and a set of martini glasses instead. Clearly my midlife crisis is starting now. (I’ll be 40 on the 14th. This has no shock value for me, but it is suddenly becoming *real*. Cocktails are helping me cope.)

After lunch (at 3pm, owing to disorganisation) I got ready to go out for the evening. The Church (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Church_band ) were playing at Tilley’s, one of Canberra’s best live music venues. (The place holds about 200 people at the most. Definitely intimate, and a fabulous place to see a fabulous band.) N came to pick me up at 6:30pm.

As we left, another torrential downpour started. The Molonglo, which is usually a placid stream, was in violent flood as we crossed it; torrents of water were cascading down usually arid hillsides. The Tuggeranong Parkway was sodden and rather dangerous so we turned onto Lady Denman Drive instead. It’s one of the quirks of the way Canberra’s laid out that Lady Denman Drive runs through bushland alongside the lake, but is in full view of Parliament House. Effectively, road users are in the middle of nowhere in the dead centre of the city.

There was water sheeting across the road, six inches deep in places as silt-laden waterfalls cascaded from the side of Black Mountain. I’ve never seen Canberra as wet as this and was just saying so when we rounded a bend and saw a car on its side in a flooded culvert. The car was pinned up against the road bridge by the force of the water streaming off the mountain. We weren’t the first on the scene; three other drivers had stopped and two of them were very brave and were waist-deep in the flood trying to get the occupants of the car out. We of course stopped; dressed for a night at a concert we waded over to the culvert in monsoon-quality rain to see what we could do. We got there just as the other drivers made contact with the woman in the car; she turned out to be the only person trapped, which hadn’t been clear because the passenger side was submerged and the water was thick with mud. The car was emitting steam and smoke.

Several other drivers sped past, showering us all with extra water. Callous idiots.

N called the police while I held an inadequate umbrella over her. I’d left my phone at home. N is remarkably calm in a crisis, at least on the surface; she described the location to the operator in great detail. Just as the call ended, the woman in the car was pulled to the surface by the first drivers on the scene. (An unforgettable moment.) She was a young woman on her way to a formal occasion; she was wearing a strapless emerald-green taffeta gown. Just for a moment I could have sworn the whole thing was a scene from a movie; the landscape was grey with clouds and rain, the floodwaters were cafe au lait, the man who swept her up and carried her out of the waters was in grey and black, and then there was this shock of vivid shimmering green on a half-drowned woman who turned out to be called Laura. N keeps a first aid kit in her car, but it wasn’t really needed; apart from a cut on her knee, Laura was physically unharmed but of course in deep shock.

Laura was so very lucky. This all happen around 7pm on a summer evening. Later in the night, there wouldn’t have been enough light to see a car overturned in the flood and there might not have been passing traffic with people able to help.

An ambulance arrived; we went back to N’s car and sat for a few moments. N was shaking. I might have been in a similar state, I can’t be sure. We were of course both soaked to the skin. But we calmed ourselves down and went to Church, so to speak. As soon as we got to Tilley’s I bought us both Cointreau on ice. It’s more subtle and less desperate-looking than brandy.

The gig turned out to be absolutely fantastic. More than two hours of performance, and we were in the second row in a very small venue. I was two metres from Steve Kilbey – lead singer, brilliant guitarist and genuine Rock God. I also found out something I’d never suspected, which is that Steve Kilbey (age 50-something) is sexy as hell. Gosh. The way he handles the bass, the six-string, the 12-string, the microphone... Well. Goodness, how flustering. I wasn’t alone in this either. Somehow I didn't care that I was sodden. But at least now I know that my dress shoes are completely waterproof.

After the show the rain had stopped completely, though it’s still humid as anything. The drive home was uneventful; I got home sometime before 1am (the garden’s a mess again) and found a series of missed calls on my phone. They were all from S, my subordinate at w*rk. He’s in the Army Reserve, and he was letting me know that his unit’s expected to be called up in the next 24 hours to be mobilised in flood relief efforts. The Molonglo, the Murrumbidgee and various other lesser streams are in full flood and numerous townships to the south-west are under threat. I’ll have to get hold of him tomorrow, um, today, to clear up what’s happening and what I need to do to make sure he gets time off w*rk for his Army duties.

Naturally I can’t sleep. I can still see that emerald-green dress against the floodwaters, the concert is still playing in my mind and now I’m worried about S too. So I’ve decided to have another drink. Cointreau. I’m so glad I bought that last time I was feeling irresponsible.

It’s now 1:50am and here I sit. I wonder when I’ll be ready to sleep, and whether it will be before dawn. There are only three hours to go.

Holy crap, Ivan.

I'm glad you stopped to help rescue that poor woman- as you say, not everyone does stop even when they could potentially help.

I quite like the Church, too, and will have to check out some online video to see how sexy he's gotten.

Meanwhile, one thing you shared here did make me chuckle (it's typical Ivan): "I couldn’t find what I was looking for but came home with a cocktail shaker and a set of martini glasses instead."

I thought you'd like the Church, so I picked up a bit of merchandise for you Pc. It'll go in that near-mythical package... (D'you possess any/many of their CDs? Please advise in the usual thread, thanks.)

I could understand some people not stopping - the rescuers took some horrible risks - but the ones who could see there was an accident and didn't modify their own driving style to suit the dreadful conditions - well, they need a good slap at the very least.

Proud of you mate

I don't need any other wordsmy friend

Thanks Prof.

I'll finish this drink and then try to get some sleep... I'm still horribly wide awake so I might not drift off at any point, but I'll try.

3am. I'm going to try to sleep... If I'm back here within four hours it probably indicates falure.

It's now 8:30am; I think I had somewhere between one and two hours of sleep. I can't recall exactly what was in my dreams but I know it was all rather chaotic. No surprises there.

build it and they will comeoops! wrong film

sleep will come, trying to nod off is harder than it seems and mallets on back of head tend to give headacheson waking

I now need to stay awake for 12 hours, to get back into the normal sleep cycle. This means I have to keep busy today or I'll nod off in an armchair.

Well then, I can recommend some music to keep you awake

your just being bloody awkwardtypical Aussie, us Yorkshire folk taught you too well

There's no music needed, thanks MP: I still have last night's concert on a replay loop in my mind. (I don't need an iPod.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEJy-xtHfHY

Thanks for that Prof, but I'll stick with this http://www.thechurchband.net/video/the-church/ for the time being.

not bad Ivan

Concerned readers will be glad to know that I successfully purchased a suitable broom today. The hunt for this item gave me a sense of purpose - a rather drab one, but a sense of purpose nevertheless.

Only four more hours to stay awake.

Keeping a vigil myself.

Good going on the accident.

Someone directing traffic to slow might have helped.



...but never standing where they may lose control and hydroplane into you...




...now if only we can talk them into using fog machines to regulate meltdown of mountain snowpacks, control heatwaves in urban inner city areas, retard wilting of crops in fields, reduce agricultural demands for water and reverse global warming...




I just found a website and video you may enjoy. I'd be interested in a considered opinion.




http://fora.tv/2010/03/25/Philip_Zimbardo_The_Secret_Powers_of_Time_Animated

I'm sorry, but that video struck me as rubbish. This is my considered opinion, and I shan't be considering it further.

There was no safe way for anyone to direct traffic. Visibility was poor as it was, and the incident had occurred because of treacharous conditions.

Anyway, you've got my sympathy on getting splashed. It's happened to me and I always slow when there's a chance of an accident like that and keep a close eye on my wake.

Thanks.

And I'm sorry about my intemperate response, but this is my Journal so it's genuinely All About Me.