Uncertainty in the US, and a Doomsday Cabaret

I'm still visiting family and old friends in northern California for a few more days before heading back home. With all the questions about the economy, not to mention the election, there is lots to talk about.

When I was still in Mexico, I didn't really know how the people I know here were faring, or thinking, about the economic downturn. Now I have some clues:

• A dog-walking relative in San Francisco has lost two clients, including one of his favorite dogs, when their owners lost jobs.
• An astute old friend who owns about ten rentals has been steadily improving them, putting in really nice kitchen appliances and other attractive touches, foreseeing a time when there would be more people wanting  relatively modest but very nice homes, where they would stay a long time.
• A couple who are semi-retired with enough retirement money for the basics are wondering if they will be able to afford the extras, like a trip to New Zealand that the woman has long planned. "Everything is totally uncertain,"  she said, a sentiment I heard from just about everybody.

Last night I went to a Doomsday Cabaret, in Sebastopol, California, a town I used to live in. Earlier in the day, I had stopped in at the public library there, which I used to run. The two librarians there recognized me instantly and we had a great gab about various people we knew in common.

So it was fun to feel the strong sense of community at the evening cabaret, which I went to with my sister-in-law Alexandra. She knew many (most?) of the people attending. The flyer announcing the event read in part: "Dress for the apocalypse! (or any way you see the changing world conditions)... nihilists, cynics, idealists, fanatics, conspiracy theorist, zealots, and economists all welcomed."

A variety of acts developed the doomsday theme, often too close for comfort. And very strong were also the themes of love and community. At the end of the show, one of the organizers said that putting the show together had been their way of coping with the current issues. They plan to do more. Nobody doubts they will be needed.

My favorite line of the evening came from a brilliant woman named Lou Montgomery, and I'll leave you with it:

When I'm in freefall, I must admit I tend to default to a darker place in my imagination.