Dreaming of a White Texas

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14

Valentine’s Day was chill. Zelenny and I took it easy, stayed indoors, and made turkey burgers for a romantic dinner. Ironcially, we didn’t bust out the candles until the romance was long gone.

We looked out the windows at midnight and watched in awe as flurries swirled restlessly in every direction. Normally Id say this was unusual, but it had now become a familiar sight this year. A snow storm from a month ago seemed like the main course of this 2021 Texas winter. Turns out, that was just the appetizer.

I love to say how I was “born and braised” in Texas. Since 1991, the coldest snaps in Houston brought icescicles at worst. Oh, there was that one day in 2009 when enough flurries came down to build a decent-ish snowball. Besides that, the only other times I had seen snow were in Chicago in 2015 and NYC in 2016. While I thought those were nice one-off experiences, I was counting my lucky stars that I would never have to deal with that magical yuck in the Lone Star State.

It was really coming down by 1:00am and I was already seeing friends in Houston post that they lost power. Zelenny and I dozed off on the couch until I awoke at 2:30am to a dark and lifeless living room. Our electricity was out. We crawled off to bed and waited til morning to review the situation (for all of you Oliver Twist fans out there).

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15

We opened the window blinds to illuminate our apartment. So many neighbors were out and about. I don’t think the panic had quite set in yet. There was still a sense of joy that morning from dog walkers letting their furry ones pounce through the half foot of snow blanketing everything. This is Texas. We don’t get weather like this, so unlike my urban travels in the north from years ago, there was no crew to plow the streets and sidewalks clear. Our leasing office was closed. We were quite literally left to fend for ourselves.

At this point, it was time to take stock of supplies. Fortunately we had spare, pre-cooked turkey patties from the night before, so Monday night’s dinner was covered. But besides that and a few snacks, our food rations could sustain us 2 days before depletion. With an electric stove, cooking was not an option. And the roads were so slick with snow and ice that driving to any store would be too risky, especially if they weren’t even open. Which most were not.

I had a lapse of reason and didn’t charge my phone the night before, so first priority was to juice it up with my car charger. Who knew my little fossil fuel hunk of junk would be our saving grace in the face of climate change! We soon developed a routine of trekking out to the parking lot every other hour to charge up our phones and warm up our butts. The temperature in our apartment was 60 degrees and dipping…

When we walked out to the street just to assess the chaos around us, we noticed that a neighbor had put bags of their refrigerated foods out on their patio. How resourceful! Once we got back, we followed suit. Our fridge was room temp so we pulled the ice chest out of storage, stuffed it with perishables, and put it outside on our patio. Hopefully nobody sees “free food” and jumps the railing, but, maybe they would need it more if so.

We napped a lot on Monday. That’s all there was to do. We tried continuing our Scrabble game from date night but it wasn’t very fun at this point. Not much could distract us from the pain of the precarious scenario we found ourselves in, but we were ready to push through it, together.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 16

Tuesday morning came around. I had a couple of spare breakfast tacos left over from our Torchy’s catering at work on Saturday, so I got one ready to share with Zelenny for breakfast. Who knew how long these conditions would last, so we had to conserve and eat the bare minimum. I got creative and heated it up with a double-wick candle (Snuggly Sweater scent from Target, Zelenny’s favorite) and a spatula, like a miniature grill top. It worked surprisingly well! Good enough to turn an ice cold frozen taco to… something edible. Despite the surreal fact of feeling homeless inside my home.

As we sat in the car to warm up, we debated if should we stay or should we go. Both options had risk: if we stay, hellish conditions could persist and get worse; if we go, the car could spin out and crash on the ice, making a bad situation worse. We couldn’t decide, so we went inside to rest under the blankets and think about it some more.

At 2:00 pm, Zelenny got a text from her coworker Kevin asking if we needed anything. He was driving to our neighborhood to pick up another friend and was willing to stop and pick up some more food for us. It was a very fortunate turn of events. By this time, people were really coming together to look out for one another, and those that could give, gave. We sent over a small list and awaited his arrival. He said about half an hour…

At 3:00 pm, he sent word that he was about 30 minutes away. That’s okay, the stores were more hectic than he expected and everything just took longer. This actually turned out to be a blessing, because just as we had decided to stay home and stick it out with our new shipment of supplies…

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP (for thirty minutes straight)

If there wasn’t a natural disaster, I would’ve thought we were under attack! An alarm akin to nuclear fallout suddenly burst through previously unknown parts of our walls. The smoke alarms had gone off plenty of times before from my overcooked dinners, but this alarm was different. A sustained, high-pitch ring would not cease! Although we had just committed to staying, this last straw signaled it was time to go.

We scrambled to pack essential supplies and spare clothes. Then, we boxed up as many valuables as possible to move them to high ground, away from walls and off the floor. Pipes started to burst in units above us, according to neighbors rushing down the stairs with their backpacks. We had seen a handful of other tenants leave the complex earlier, but this persistent screech caused a mass exodus. Like a scene out of Titanic, the panic was setting in.

We boxed up our PC, rolled up our rug, and finished packing right when Kevin arrived. Didn’t realize he drove a Honda Accord coupe, so loading in our numerous bags of supplies was a tight squeeze. We made it happen. This is when they’d say “we got the hell out of dodge”.

Peering out the backseat window of his car was my first look at the rest of the city. Street lights were out. Lines of people waited around the block at the corner store. More people were out and about than I expected; some looking for help, others looking to help, and a few just enjoying the scenery. The mood was somber, but only dull in color. White blanketed the ground and shrouded the overcast sky. White outlined every tree branch and roof trim. Most of the color came from winter garb like scarfs, hats, jackets. It was a brown, grey, and white scene on every block. But life was abounding.

Our chauffeur picked up his intended guest who was stranded without power like us, and we were driven across town to north Austin where friends anticipated our arrival. Roads were slushy with only the bravest drivers among inching along at a snail’s pace. It was a disaster zone. I was reminded of the Dust Bowl era of the 1930s. This earthen material covered everything around us, dictated every move and choice we could make. The community was scrounging for anything they could find. But, was this just another one of nature’s freak shows? Or was there something - or someone - else responsible?


A cute little snowman with a scarf and an icicle for a nose greeted us at the curb. Immediately all worries evaporated from the warmth of their welcome. We were officially refugees. Stumbling through frozen leaves of grass, we landed on their patio, slipped off our sneakers, and went inside.

AirBnB got nothing on these digs! Their humble house, warm and cozy, was perfectly neat and accommodating. They put us up in their office room with an air mattress. We settled our bags and the first thing on my mind was a warm cup of coffee! (selfish? yes. possible? yes. much needed? definitely yes.)

The rest of Tuesday was decompression. My throbbing headache from the stress, malnutrition, and caffeine absence made it hard to enjoy anything. Still, I was utterly grateful for a successful escape.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17

Woke up with my headache still rocking, but a return to normalcy was setting in. Today’s main objective was to take Lena, Zelenny’s cat, to another friend’s house about 7 blocks away. She wasn’t getting along with our gracious hosts’ weenie dog, Pepper, so least we could do was relieve that burden from the household. We packed up her litter box, food, put her in her backpack and set out to walk the streets.

Honestly, that trip was the most eventful and exciting thing we did all week, in my opinion. Iced roads make a few blocks feel like miles. I enjoyed the challenge of navigating hazards all around us. From frozen streets to falling tree branches, it seemed like every step was a new obstacle to figure out. Still, I found the scenery to be eerily beautiful. Nothing in the city was functioning like it was supposed to, which brought me a strange sense of comfort. Like the business-as-usual responsibilities of modern living were all forgiven, in exchange for mere survival.

Sofi and Matt, Zelenny’s other friends, met us half way to pick up Lena. They don’t have any pets, and Lena is extremely easy to please, so within hours she adapted and forgot we were even missing.

On the way back to the house, a neighbor asked if I could help him lift a giant tree branch sinking under the weight of snow. I gave it all my might and he propped it up with a metal stick. This guy was so cool, a total go-getter, reminded me of a lumberjack taking care of nature’s business with his beard and boots.

A couple blocks later, a large golden dog ran to us out of nowhere and sort of “spirit guided” us a few steps along our hike. It didn’t take long for it to get distracted and heed the calls of its owner from around the block.

Lastly, I asked Zelenny if she could take some photos of me. Honestly, I’m not one to pose in the snow if it’s abnormal. When it had snowed last month, I also refrained from posing and posting, because I’m struck with extreme guilt when I think of all the people in Austin camping in tents that probably don’t have phones or social media profiles to interpret their experience in a positive way. Having the luxuries of a camera, warm clothing, and shelter is a privilege. I accept my privilege, but struggle to use it effectively for the greater good. Snow is beautiful when we can interact with it as we freely please. I recognize that some do not get that choice. It’s fine for all my online friends to do whatever they want, but smiling in hazardous weather while others suffer greatly by living outdoors is not for me. I don’t judge them for taking part in a phenomena and sharing with others; I only hope they recognize where the opportunity is coming from and the fact that we are better off than souls stuck outside just around the corner.

That said, I wanted to send a picture to my friend Cristin in NYC who gifted me my long wool coat for free last time I visited her. I totally underestimated the frigid temperatures in the north and hadn’t brought the right clothing with me. In fact, I was completely ignorant to quality textile materials for insulation prior to that trip, since I never needed to know in Texas where you can get by with a hoodie at least 300 days of the year. Anyway, this navy coat from Brooklyn Industries has kept me splendidly warm for 5 winters now. I took some pics standing in the middle of the road to send her as a thank you message for helping me survive this storm. It was great to reconnect with her and show gratitude.

We got back to the house and we’ve been here ever since. I’ve had some of the best homecooked meals during our stay, and I appreciate that they’ve kept most lights off and heat low to conserve as much power as possible. Some folk nearby were saying that they had lost water, so we stock piled whatever we could contain just in case. But so far, no issue. My headache is gone.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18

Well, all I can say is that this was about the most normal and boring day of the week. Not much to recount. Woke up, watched some movies, and fell asleep happily. It seemed like conditions were “rounding the corner” so they say.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 19

Today we returned home. The sun was out and the snow was melting, enough to clear the roads for a safe drive back. Civilization was trying to reboot. Lines of cars wrapped around fast food joints that were open for the first time all week. I was delighted to see so many drivers roll their windows down to take in the fresh “warmer” air (a crisp 45 degrees).

First step was to turn on my car to confirm it was fine. It came on no problem.

Inside our apartment, we couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. It was exactly as we left it, except with power and water this time! Once our amazing hosts parted ways, we began to put things back in their place. First on the list was our refrigerated food. We rushed to get our groceries inside from the patio as temperatures outside continued to tick up.

I was unloading the first bag of frozen meats into the freezer when I suddenly heard a THUNK by the patio door. Our computer monitor got smashed. I had the bright idea of rolling up my giant rug before evacuating in case our apartment flooded. The problem is that it’s very top heavy and the slightest touch can topple it over. Since we were rushing to leave when Kevin was waiting outside, I carried it over to a precarious corner between our computer desk and patio door. Unfortunately, when Zelenny was bringing in the ice chest of food, the door slammed open so far it pushed the rug over the computer desk, hitting the monitor. It wasn’t cracked on the outside, but upon powering it back on, the LCD was smashed and pixelated. Although it makes for great glitch art, it was a loss. But I consider it a reasonable sacrifice if that’s all the damage we sustained, besides a couple of patio plants that I failed to move in sooner from the cold. It could have been worse.

I figured we should fill up my gas tank just in case there was a run on fuel this weekend. We drove to five different stations before finding unleaded. It was nice to see the world coming back to life as the day winded down.

We fired up the oven, made some taquitos, and relaxed on the couch as we warmed up the apartment. The new episode of RuPaul’s DragRace was premiering. It was like waking up from a bad dream. Afterward, we made a plan to replace the broken monitor and went to bed for the most peaceful night of sleep all week.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20

Making coffee and cooking breakfast tacos in the morning felt domestic af. Like going from bare minimum to absolute excess. Even though these are simple luxuries, something about the act of preparing food in the kitchen felt “too good, too soon”. It seemed like things came back to normal rather quickly, so the ease of transition startled me a little. But damn, those were quality eats that morning. Mmmm!

Today was business as usual, but it started with a rude awakening. I’ll probably dedicate a separate entry for this, but it’s worth noting that I had my first encounter with a QAnon conspiracist online. A Facebook friend that I only met once in 2017 and haven’t spoken to since shared a post she saw from another “Facebook friend” of hers. The positive part is that she genuinely invited others to chime in with their thoughts about the research her friend had presented. The problem was the researcher. Sadly, I cannot recall the convoluted theory exactly and I’m no longer able to read it because the author blocked me after I dissented its validity. This opened my eyes to how bad it’s become in America. Honestly, all the details don’t deserve the time to explain here, but basically, I wrote “fake news” on my friend’s re-share of the post, then “laugh reacted” to the only comment of reason on his original post since we were not officially “friends” and therefore could not comment. The aggression was fierce and instant. Within 2 minutes, the dude DM’d me the following:

… You pedophile lovers need to take your Biden BS somewhere. Get lost kiddo

Before I could react, I was already blocked. Couldn’t reply and couldn’t see his profile or any of his posts.

I mean, I’ve disagreed with a fair share of Facebook posts like I imagine most of us have, but as Lebowski pointed, “This aggression will not stand, man!” It was way out of left field. I figured since he had harnessed these under-the-hood functions of FB, I should too, so I reported his message for harassment. Publicly offering political rhetoric without facilitating open discourse is not just childish, it’s irresponsible. I’ll have more to say in a deeper reflection, but yeah, that happened.

Anyway, I made it to work just fine. During downtime, I got to catch up with my dad who made it well through the winter storm, only losing power for 3 hours in east Texas. It was nice to know that the people who matter most to me were coming out the other end relatively unscathed. Can’t say the same for other friends and acquaintances across the Lone Star…


FINAL THOUGHTS

What a mess! It’s easy to look back fondly on my experience since losses were minimal and accommodations were excellent. Our network came through in a time of desperation, reinforcing the connections we’ve made with great people. In that sense, I find solace in the resilience of my community. Between checking on friends and family, and receiving unparalleled support from my employer, I feel at ease knowing that we won’t let each other down.

However, considerable flaws were exposed. The self-ascribed “Energy Capitol of the World” buckled under the weight of its own shortsighted stubbornness. The political fallout from State leaders is sure to keep us entertained in the warmer months ahead.

We’ll never forget what happened. Or will we? I worry that this event will be lost to memory in generations to come. The struggle endured by all Texans across the spectrum of class and wealth should serve as a rallying cry for stronger unity. But I don’t think most are thinking that way. We distract ourselves from the painful realities of collective existence with fingers pointing up, down, and all around. We fixate on the fingers, who’s finger it is, who it’s pointing at, instead of the underlying motivations for raising the finger in the first place. While I would love to hope that this “act of god” inspires a deeper introspection into ourselves and our relationship to the environmental systems of our planet, my doubts have more steam in their sails than ever before. Especially after I was attacked for dissenting a stranger’s fringe opinion. The division is real. Perhaps deepening…

Wait a second! I can’t end on a pessimistic note!

What I am excited for is the generation of children and adolescents that are watching the legacy of the 20th century collapse. “Late-stage capitalism” is worth our attention. Our economic mode as we know is not going away anytime soon, but catastrophic shortcomings have a way of motivating those with bright new ideas. Do not be fooled: this was a disaster. Ecologically, economically, and politically. But not socially. Texans like myself have come to meet and know their neighbors now. It is in the rebuilding process where we have opportunity to learn, grow, and become stronger than ever.