Loneliness on the Call-In Catastrophe Show

Photo by Jacob Hodgson on Unsplash

This week, everyone else in the United States of America seems to be discussing convictions, convictions of this politician or that. Will he go to jail? Just get off on probation? Will he get pardoned? Pardon himself? The chatter and debate go on and on in homes, offices, and cafes.

Here in Buggy Land, we’re not talking convictions and we really don’t care what happens to those scoundrels. No, here in Buggy Land we’re talking bunkers. We have a conviction of our own, a conviction to stay alive. Many of us who work or live downtown don’t have basements. If we did, those basements would just fill with water in the spring floods. So, we’ve been told when we hear the sirens, we should head to the rec center and hit the storage room there.

The sirens have been going off all spring. We’ve had a couple of tornadoes in the late afternoon, and we all rushed to the rec center and crowded in with the extra pickleball nets and folded-up ping-pong tables. The Amish are mean ping-pong players. Every Amish one-room school has a table and paddles in the basement. You have to have something to do at recess on rainy days.

One late-afternoon storm approached. And approached. Was it heading our way or not? No one had a radio or a phone, of course. We just waited it out and watched Eli Bontrager whip Mahlon Borntrager at ping-pong. By 5:00 p.m. the siren blasted the all-clear sign.

Then, a few days later, the siren blew us awake at 6:00 a.m. A tornado had touched down at the bakery. No! Neighbors worked at the bakery and I worried about their safety. I dashed down the street to the rec center, and what did I find? A line! We are orderly and polite here in Buggy Land, so merchants, townspeople from the trailer court, and everyone else without a basement, patiently waited for the rec center to open and let us in their door.

We chatted, debris flying through the air in the distance, the line growing until it snaked around the corner to the  post office. Should we get back in our buggies or cars? What good would that do? Should we go back in our shops with their plate glass windows and dodge the flying glass? Should we try the bank and squeeze into the vault?

Soon, an English person appeared with a tiny old transistor radio. Hadn’t seen one of those for years. Had a weather band on it and everything. We were able to gather around and listen to our local station and get some solace from the weather talk show. Here’s what we heard. Listen:

It’s the Call-In Catastrophe Show, KLUU get a clue radio, that gives our listeners a chance to talk about derechos, tornadoes, hail, straight line winds, floods, blizzards—all that Mother Nature and the fossil fuel industry have to offer.  It’s early summer and we’ve had our usual weather catastrophes and more.  15-30 tornadoes touching down in the state in one day. That’s right. With tragedies hitting cities and small towns alike. Oh, we are sorry for the injuries and the losses, mighty sorry.

Yes, FEMA and the governor have both arrived on site, surveying the scene, but frankly, they are bringing nothing but red tape. We’re doing better on our own, pulling together.  The Cow-Calf café is feeding breakfast to anyone who wants it, and the Shriners, the tassels on their fezes bobbing in the wind, are riding around town on their little motor bikes, retrieving our lost valuables that have been blown far and wide.

The radio tower got struck by lightning in the storm, so the sound on today’s show can be wonky, but we’re on the air, folks. We’re on the air. Thank goodness the whole tower didn’t burn up.  So, let’s take our first caller.

Caller #1: (Distorted sound.)  Hello. Can you hear me?

Announcer:  We can. We can hear you just fine. You’re just a little slow. But that’s the tower problem. Can you speak faster?

Caller #1:  Sure, I can. Am I talking fast enough now?

Announcer: Turn down the speed.

Caller #1:  Now?

Announcer:  Perfect. Now tell us, where did you ride out the tornado?

Caller #1:  I saw those dark clouds come straight at me, so I ran to my basement. In the furnace room. I guess we’re now calling it the “safe room.”

Announcer: Yes, that’s the new lingo.

Caller #1: Well, I was safe. Had the door closed to keep me safe from flying glass. Had my dog, my little beagle- border collie mix, at my at my feet. Had my weather radio. Had my bicycle helmet on my head should something crash down on top of me.

Announcer: And did it?

Caller #1: Well, I had to look.

Announcer: Oh, no!

Caller #1: You know, it’s a natural instinct. I tiptoed out of the furnace room to look out the window, see if I could see anything.

Announcer:  And?

Caller #1: I saw that tornado heading straight at me.

Announcer:  Oh, no!

Caller #1:  I wasn’t stupid. I hopped back in the furnace room where  I heard the train sound. Terrific racket, loud and low.

Announcer: And did it hit?

Caller #1: No, it went right between my house and the road, but it didn’t hit me. But some definite thoughts went through my head.

Announcer:  Coming to terms with your maker?

Caller #1: No, at my age, you’re kind on 24/7 stand-by with that scenario. Already rolled that film.

Announcer:  What were your thoughts, then?

Caller #1: Well, I realized down there in that basement with just me and Molly, the dog, I had the worst attack of loneliness in my life.

Announcer:  Ah, ha. Sure, of course.

Caller #1:  I hate to admit it. Nobody talks about loneliness.

Announcer:  Well, that’s what we’re here for, the Call-in Catastrophe Show. I’m glad you could talk about it.

Caller #1: I just had to get that off my chest.

Announcer: That’s fine. You’re going to be all right.

Caller #1: Thank you.

Announcer:  That’s what we’re here for. Okay, let’s take the next caller.

Caller #2: (Distorted sound.)  I was down in the old fruit room.

Announcer: Okay, tower problem. Speed up your voice, please.

Caller #2: Well, as I said, I was in the old fruit room in the cellar. And that last caller was right. Loneliness, just like that big black cloud swept over me. We seem to be having a pandemic.

Announcer:  No, no, that’s over. Our last two presidents both said the pandemic is over. Just like that, it disappeared.

Caller #2: I mean a pandemic of loneliness.

Announcer: Well, anybody would feel alone in the middle of a tornado in a fruit room by themselves.

Caller #2: No, it’s chronic.

Announcer:  You feel lonely all the time?

Caller #2:  Yes, just like that surgeon general of ours said.  I saw him on TV in his black uniform. He’s a real general, you know. And he said he was lonely. We’re all lonely. It’s a public health crisis. That’s what he said.

Announcer:  Well, that’s the pandemic.

Caller #2: No, you just said that was over.

Announcer:  Okay, let’s go on to another caller.

(Distorted sound.)

Okay, you’re on the Call-in-Catastrophe show. What’s on your mind?

Caller #3:  She’s right.

Announcer:  Who’s right?

Caller #3: That last caller. We’re living in a world of loneliness. Let me introduce myself. I am Dr. Shrinkwright.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, listen up. We have an M.D. on the line.

Caller #3:  Ph.D. I did my dissertation on loneliness.

Announcer: Ah, ha. A specialist.

Caller #3: We have so many myths these days about loneliness. What comes to mind? The lone gunman in these mass shootings. We hear he was a loner. When we speak of loneliness, we need to include intentionality.

Announcer: So, the lone gunman wasn’t wanting to be alone. Or was he?

Caller #3:  No, that’s exactly it. We don’t think anyone wants to be alone. But some people do. And we stigmatize those people, call them loners, and expect them to be dangerous.

Announcer:  I see what you’re saying. Some people enjoy their privacy?

Caller #3:  That’s right. Not everyone wants to be in the middle of a big party. It takes alone time to be creative, for example.

Announcer: So, what I hear you saying is:  Let’s not jump to the conclusion that alone time necessarily produces a psychopath.

Caller #3:  Too much loneliness is stressful and it can result in personality and behavioral changes. Extroverts need lots of people around them. But keep an introvert in the middle of that noisy party, and they can have problems, too.

Announcer: I see, it all depends on your unique personality.

Caller #3: That’s right. Introverts tended to cope much better during the pandemic. They cherish their alone time.

Announcer:  And the rest of us went nuts.

Caller #3:  The effects of loneliness on human health is the equivalent of smoking 15 cigarettes a day.

Announcer: That’s sobering.

Caller #3: So invite someone to share a meal. Call a friend and take a walk. Think about taking time to listen to a friend when they need to talk.

Announcer:  And I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for you today, doctor. This is the Call-In Catastrophe Show on KLUU, get a clue radio, signing off.

Hear the whole of Episode #59 of the Buggy Land podcast here soon:

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