No One Is Safe.

Earlier this week, everybody’s friend and Gazette writer Mary Carey was laid off from said paper. [CUE: Needle scratching across record.]

I KNOW!!!

Mary also counts channeling Sarah Palin among her many talents.

Mary did it all – interesting and insightful movie reviews, delightful and informative local features, thorough interviews. When I read the news she posted, my immediate thought was, “No one is safe.” (My immediate thought after the one about Mary, of course. Of course.) I mean, if Mary, MARY! of all people could be laid off from her job that she worked tirelessly at and probably already for way less than what she deserved, then what’s that mean for the rest of us schlubs in this economy?

It’s bad when our nation’s banks go into hock. And it’s bad when the one-time national manufacturing behemoth closes up factories and then over a thousand dealerships. But it’s really, really bad when our neighbors lose their jobs. Neighbors who are really, really good at their jobs.

I’m trying to take the road less panicked.

Bob Heiss, co-owner of Cooks Shop Here and host of the show I produce for WHMP, Off the Burner, said a theme to look for in these dire times was the communal supper. I love that idea. I know Greenfield does the Free Harvest Supper every year. And of course, there are the meals given out across this Valley all week long by the various and wonderful soup kitchens and pantries. But I’m imagining something a little smaller, less grand. Maybe amongst groups of friends, people coming together more frequently than just on the weekends to share what’s in their cupboards and fridges, to save and stretch a little more.

A pal of mine had a bread and water party instead of a wine and cheese party. I thought that was a clever response to the pinching and biting climate.

Other things that are free to do that keep me calm nowadays:

1. Walking my dog.
2. Adding to the Heavy Things page.
3. Calling National Grid to complain about the crap ass job they did on felling the tree that was leaning on a wire next to my yard.

Crap Ass Tree Felling Job

4. Drinking water.
5. Reading blogs like Mary’s, Tom Devine’s, and Jim Neill’s.
6. Whistling.
7. Riding my bike.
8. Tapping my foot.
9. Believing.
10. Sitting around friends’ bonfires.

These are crazy, crazy times we’re living.  But if we keep focused on the moment, on what we have, as opposed to don’t have,  and on staying connected with each other, we’ll see it through.

My house.  Dinner.  Bring an app.  I’ll start on some sort of fritatta.