Has America morphed from being a fundamentally optimistic nation to one with a disconcerting number of pessimists, some of whom are downright hostile? Lately it seems—at least to me—that some folks prefer to define themselves by an ever-expanding list of dislikes. Snarky blogs, email, and Web pages offer fertile grounds for broadcasting grievances, zingers, and diatribes often lacking in substance, decorum, and veracity.
Perhaps largely due to assumed impunity, online discourse can serve to polarize an already anxious, overwhelmed populace. After one exhausting day of work and mowing my rebellious lawn, I logged on to Facebook to witness a catfight between acquaintances unfold, thread by thread. At precisely that point, I decided it was time to disconnect from reality for a few days and wondered aloud, "Where did the good vibes go?" Well, to San Francisco, Calif., naturally.
As an undergrad studying English literature, I had long dreamt of a sojourn to northern Calif. I would hike alongside the great Sequoias by day and retrace the steps of the great Beat Generation poets—Kerouac, Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Burroughs—by night. Time allowing, there was Monterey, with its Cannery Row and aquatic splendor.
In short, yes, I did all of these things and more while visiting friends in this visually striking city last month. However, it is fair to say that I didn't exactly "leave my heart in San Francisco." First, it smelled weird as I pseudo-skipped off the first train and up the stairs to the flirty sunshine. Second, the sheer abundance of male facial hair was staggering. Who knew there were so many manscaping options for virtually all ages? One could assign taxonomy to "goatee" variations: the goatee and semi-rectangular moustache; the basic goatee with a small strip; and the trusty partial beard/semi-moustache combo.
Primarily relying on public transit and my own two feet to canvass some of the city's vibrant and distinctly disparate enclaves was a real treat. Riding the bus was a social experiment that proved to be a meld of adventure and exercise in patience and foregoing creature comforts. On a bus from Haight Street, a rather eccentric woman loudly charged that the city had slashed funding for the fire department and adequate earthquake preparation in favor of beautifying landscapes. Later on, a pony-tailed tour guide pointed to the park that hosted a deluge of hippies during the "Summer of Love." Gazing over, we saw a less magical scene: clusters of homeless patrons blanketing the park's contours.
Then a funny thing happened. The tour guide gave a primer about the 1906 earthquake that ruptured along the San Andreas Fault. The violent quake dismantled the city, destroying about 80 percent of San Francisco, which burned for days. I thought about the new wave of building codes, earthquake insurance, the recent catastrophes in Japan, and how our industry helps ensure that we all learn from these tragedies and arguably are a little safer.
Now I will say something that will elicit little earthquakes in the very core of my young urbanite friends, who know little of the reality of claims professionals or the P&C industry in general. I was anxious to get back home…to the office and the Midwest.
© Arc, All Rights Reserved. Request academic re-use from www.copyright.com. All other uses, submit a request to TMSalesOperations@arc-network.com. For more information visit Asset & Logo Licensing.