Friday, March 5, 2010

Storm of the Century



So i hear theres gonna be a big storm comin through soon…

You know, the news of a brewing storm always gets me a lil hot. The idea that a torrential downpour could ensue at any moment, while we still have to go about our civil duties, is gut-wrenching. That any plans you may have had for the day, might turn into swimming with your work clothes on. The word spreads like a rumor of a new best buy being built in your area. You hear about it from someone who heard it from someone else, who heard it from someone else, who of course heard it from his sister, who actually watches the news. She of course, HATES the weatherman… Coz everyone hates the weatherman.

Regardless of region, the local weatherman takes more shit than a 15 yr. old pregnant asian girl. I mean, i understand that your upset about wearing a skirt and flip-flops today, instead of your sweatpants and fake uggs, but give the guy a break. He's just calling it as he sees it. He sees a bunch of red and blue lines and what looks like clouds and makes a guess. You gotta give it to him though. Through all the harassment he endures he remains the smiliest man on the set, genuinely giddy about northern winds and low lying clouds. So even if you do feel betrayed by the outcast of the news crew, i say, blame the doppler, not the dumb ass reading it.

But i think thats what i like about storms… the uncertainty, the intrigue. Cause by 11:30, everyones heard that a low-pressure front is supposedly ready to beat down your block with gail force winds. But everyone's skeptical. You'll here: "well the weatherman's been WRONG BEFORE!!" while everyones looks to sky, squints their eyes, and decides whether or not its gonna happen. Because it typically seems like it could happen. You know, grey skies, some wind, and a bunch of pissed off attitudes. "EHHH shit!! i wish it would just start already and get it over with!! so its not raining when i drive home!!" My favorite is the guy whose breaking down the shades of grey to determine the moisture levels in the clouds, thus enabling him to pinpoint the epicenter of the possible rainfall, "yea you see, those over there are much darker, which means more water. the wind is blowing at about, id say, 30 m.p.h... i recommend you grab your coat…" Indeed everyone has their two cents to throw in on the possible outdoor activity buster on the horizon; but whether in the end it happens or not, an equal amount of people will tell you, with ample conviction, how they "KNEW it was/wasn't gonna rain…"

Now another reason i like storms is because i respect those who are "storm-ready" and i'm not talking about a flashlight or two and a can of tuna. Im talking about the people who have a fucking costco in their basement! the same people who might have a couple "y2k kits" laying around! Now if you've never met one of these ever-ready individuals, just wait: one day you will be at a dinner-party and you'll be asked to retrieve some more chairs from the basement. You'll go down there, grab some chairs, and upon turning around… BAM!! 5 tents, 6 rechargeable lamps, 2 wind-up radios, 50 gallons of water, and 4000 cans of spam. As well as a smattering of various hunting supplies.

Now this man might be your grandfather. He might be your weird uncle. Possibly your lesbian neighbor, or the local black guy. He might be your best-friend or someone you know from the gym. He might be the absolute LAST person you enjoy spending time with; but one day when a storm comes that even George Clooney ain't fuckin with… Your gonna be glad you know him.

1 comment:

  1. First follower, first comment. Ever. Just thought I'd point this out...

    On another note, I can't believe you just spit out an entire blog about weather and all it entails. And yet I'm also not really surprised. A little paradoxical of me, I know. This adds to my down-time forms of self amusement. Between your blog, Bailey House, Moscow's new album and my James Patterson book, I could be stranded on an island with just these things and be pretty darn content...I'd need some beer parachuted to me here and there, but other than that, I'm one happy camper. So...thanks!
    PS: I actually miss our talks about clothes fashion. Surprisingly, these ballin' Burlingame folk don't like to talk about it much. They don't exactly appreciate my weekends consisting of blowing my paycheck on a single pair of shoes. Sad.

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