Archive for the ‘Weather’ Category

Crabs & Lobsters

April 3, 2009

Check it out.


Don’t Taunt The Weather Gods

December 21, 2008

This Just In: Mother Nature Tells Ken, “Shut Your Fucking Face, Bitch“.

After hearing my haughty rant about snowstorm hysteria, the powers that be in the pantheon of weather deities apparently want me to, as they say, put my money where my mouth is. Since approximately 2 p.m. on Friday, shortly after my last post, it has snowed nonstop throughout the Northeast, dumping inch after inch on the area, completely burying folks from Cape Cod to Bar Harbor.

I’ve been getting texts from my simple but steadfast bodyguard Dave from his home on the coast south of Boston who, despite several cracked ribs, has been shoveling snow for about 48 hours straight, with just a few short breaks to eat and sleep mixed in. The last message looked like this:

    “no more. no more. can’t lift arms to comb hair.
    bury me in the cold, cold ground. please…”

Of course, it’s been hammering us up here today, with areas in New Hamphire getting up to 18 inches or so over the weekend. Here at The Compound, we don’t worry too much. We’ve got three separates sub-basements full of supplies and a couple back-up generators for power. A neighbor down the road, homing pigeon trainer Gus McDolenz, has somehow mounted a snow plow on the end of a 1984 Ford Country Squire station wagon and will plow out our access roads for a 30 pack. So we don’t worry too much, we just stoke up the fires, grab some beverages and bust out the naughty board games and sit tight.

Not so easy for everyone else, I know.

The latest development, for example, is a flash freeze tonight that will take all the heavy, wet snow that’s fallen today and turn it into granite right where it sits as winds of up to 50 mph pound already debilitated residents, some of whom are still without power from the last round of ice storms two weeks ago. The morning looks hellishly arctic and the local population is feeling pretty beat up, that’s for sure.

I promise, folks. From now on, I keep my mouth shut.


Mass Hysteria

December 19, 2008

Snowfall on Boston Common.

Snowblindness is defined as a “painful eye condition, caused by exposure of unprotected eyes to the ultraviolet rays in bright sunlight reflected from snow or ice”.

I have a different definition for it, however. I use it to describe the near-psychotic sense of hysteria that infects the local population in the days and hours prior to an oncoming snowstorm. Crowds of tense, panic-stricken people, their eyes blank with paralyzing terror, crowding grocery stores to stock up on milk, bread, water and cheese flavored puffy snacks. Lines at gas stations that stretch out blocks, causing even more congestion to what are already gridlocked roads and streets as everyone desperately tries to drive their cars as much as humanly possible before a single horrifyingly individualistic flake can hit the ground.

This behaviours is, quite literally, utterly mindless. We do live in the Northeast, after all. We have seen snow before.

So it is, as I happened to be visiting my dumb but loyal bodyguard Dave, who is laid up recovering from a half dozen cracked ribs thanks to an unfortunate run in with a family of Moose last weekend on a KSWNO hiking expedition near the Compound, at his home in a coastal town just south of Boston, that I was witness this deplorable sort of group cowardice people there tend to exhibit when a wee bit of snow is in the forecast.

Granted, there is about 8-12 inches forecast, the worst accumulation and winds spot on at Dave’s location, but, really, is that any reason to start organizing mass suicides?

So what drives people to this state?

Is it the likelyhood that this will initiate another Ice Age and the glaciers will move down across Canada with such swiftness that homes will be ground beneath encroaching walls of ice before we could even get our boots tied?

Is the the packs of feral polar bears sure to take over our cities, feeding on the last remnants of a humanity fallen towards frozen extinction?

Maybe. Or maybe folks just remember the Blizzard of ’78 too well, where an admittedly unprepared populace was buried under two feet of snow for a week or so. Granted, folks did get burned during that one but that sort of thing is once in a millennium and meteorolgy has advanced far enough at this point that I’m fairly certain we could prepare ourselves well enough before something like that hit.

Regardless, the streets are now filled with crazed lunatics, eyes glazed and empty, fingers clutched white-knuckled on steering wheels, pushing and shoving at the check-out counters, barking animalistic gibberish into their cell phones to confused and terrified loved ones screaming at them to get home before the apocalypse hits.

At this point, I may just join the suicide crowd. Maybe self-immolation is the only way out now.

Hell, at least I’ll be warm.