Droughts haven’t changed much over the decades

When I was a kid in Danville back in the mid-1970s, I saw my dad putting bricks in all the toilet tanks in the house to help do our part during the drought. I remember sections of cracked earth in the back of our house, with crevices so deep I imagined if I pulled one away, I might get to see clear to China. I remember the gas shortage that resulted in us running out of gas in the behemoth of a Suburban and literally coasting into the driveway of the gas station to take our place at the end of the snaking line while Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” played over the radio.
None of it seemed strange to me. I don’t think my parents complained about it. It’s just the way it was.
Fast forward more years than I care to count and we’re seeing a repeat of some of those same circumstances.
We’re in a drought again. Or is it really just the same one?
As an adult this time around, I’m impacted more by the drought conditions than not leaving the faucet running as I brush my teeth with a Cinderella toothbrush.
Water rate increases mean more stringent personal budgeting. I’m noticing low reservoir levels in my travels around the state and brown lawns in front of conscientious property owners’ usually pristine homes. I’m also spotting clandestine “sprinkling” under the cover of night from those less conscientious.
We have more resources now than we did back in the ‘70s. Who would have thought that our phones would one day be something we take with us everywhere to take pictures and watch the news? Yes, I’m that old.
I just said, “Who would have thought,” when referencing newfangled technology. Great. I just said, “newfangled.”
Anyway, my point is this: we have a 24-hour news cycle constantly in our ears and in front of our faces on every mobile device you can think of ensuring that we have no excuses for being unaware of our designated watering days. It also means there really is no escaping it … ever.
It has also produced what some neighbors might perceive as your everyday Joe deputizing himself as the Arbiter of All That is Water and monitoring his neighbor’s car washing habits. (That had better be an automatic shut-off nozzle on that hose, buddy.)
Not that it’s necessarily a bad thing. But if the monitoring is not done carefully, it can result in ill will and no invitation to the Annual Fourth of July Block Party and Pie Eating Extravaganza no matter what is said about good fences and good neighbors.
With all these newfangled resources also comes the benefit of more accurate weather forecasting … or so some excited meteorologists would like us to believe. The hoped for and much anticipated arrival of El Niño could spell relief for low reservoirs, brown lawns and filthy cars. And the deputies of the neighborhoods will have to turn in their badges and hang up their hats.
Here’s hoping that this winter we won’t tire of scrolling the never-ending Facebook feed lamenting “The Great Deluge of 2015.”
Email Kelly Sinon at [email protected].