We are in the midst of the mid November Snow storm, an early variation of the polar vortex. There was concern that this could be the end, so hauntingly depicted in the classic Doors so fittingly named The End;
"This is the end, beautiful friend,
This is the end, my only friend, the end
To our elaborate plans, the end,
To everything that stands, the end."
Thank you, Jim Morrison.
Local meteorologists were scrambling yesterday to find imagery raw, and terrifying enough to depict the coming apocalypse. It was an afternoon spent warning people that we were in for a rough commute this morning, possibly heavy snow, and potentially, the end.
Stores were packed with combative, frightened shoppers, laying in supplies, bottled water, canned food, candles, batteries, ammunition (to shoot the roaming bands of looters, ravenous packs of timber wolves, and occasional polar bear), and bleach. Why do they always buy bleach? Some sort of bizarre need to keep whites white? Nobody wants to face the end in a dingy, stained t-shirt.
This morning, stations were trampling all over the peaceful, virgin snow, each other, and poor slobs who just wanted to get to work, to bring you the latest, frightening video of snow falling, gently and lightly on a gas station parking lot somewhere south of town. Local networks called every available reporter, and cameraman into work, for the "team coverage." They were almost cruel in their capture and interrogation of motorists.
"What do you think of the snow, and driving to work in such hazardous, deadly conditions?" The reporter asked, pointedly, accusingly, with a scornful, wicked smile.
"Well, people just need to slow down, you can't be in a big hurry." The older gentleman, who looked as if he would never be in too big a hurry for anything, he was probably a grandfather, wearing a hand knitted stocking hat, and matching scarf, said softly, and politely, leaning into toward the microphone. He probably did not want to inconvenience the reporter.
"So, you think slowing down, and being careful are enough to save us from the Snowpocalypse*? Do you really think caution, and common sense will save us from this?" The reporter asked savagely, with a sweeping, angry swing of his free hand to indicate the falling snow. Since the older gentleman had moved closer to speak softly into the microphone the pronounced, emphatic arc of the reporters arm hit him right in the forehead and knocked him onto his back, in the new, wet, soft snow.
Thinking quickly, the dedicated journalist stepped over the prone, fallen older gentleman and interviewed someone who was coming out of the gas station with a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew, and a bag of powder sugar donuts. He was "worried sick" about getting to work on time. This made the reporter happy, and he patted the person on the back.
Of course, I could only watch so much, I had to get to work, and traffic was heavy, and slow, people were worried, and the freeway just inched along, but, I made it. I hope you are safe, and warm, and somewhere with coffee, because I care about you, as a person. Let me know if you had any problems, I will alert the stations.
* Snowpocalypse, much to my surprise, was not flagged as misspelled, neither was snownado. It just struck me as odd. Such is the evolution of English.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Tomorrow is a new day, if we make it.
There is not much to say, but, for those who find any offense, please remember these are only stories, jokes, and have no relation to reality. Kind of like life.
I like life, and hope it lasts a long time, but it does require some explanation, that is why these blogs exist. To help people navigate times and events that make no sense.
Here are a few places you can find a few things.
The Original Life Explained. Where it all started, a little rambling and a lot of nothing important.
Life Explains The End Views on humanity's race to self extinction. I hope I am wrong.
Life Explains Smiles Because everybody likes it when you smile.
Life Explains Aging Getting older is not always easier, but it is worth the effort. And a few small things can make it much more pleasant.
Life Explains Traveling and Commuting Mostly commuting. Driving bugs me and working bugs me so driving to work is the ultimate insult of modern life, and I like to complain.
Life Explained Explores History. The real problem with history is there is so much of it. It is all over the place. But, if you take the time to look at the small pieces it is fascinating.
Life Explains Music Music is a universal language. I like guitar based rock and roll, but there is a little bit of a lot here.