Storm Stories

     Catching Wolf Blitzer on the Communist News Network reporting about the big storm hitting the Northeast today brought back memories of other big storms I’ve experienced in the ol’ Northeast.  I tuned in to the Weather Channel when I got home just to see what was going on.  It looks like Massachusetts and Connecticut have instituted travel bans, schools have already been closed for the next two days, the shelves at the grocery stores are empty, and the storm hasn’t even hit full force yet. Yikes! I remember similar times well; some memories were fond, others not so much, and some were downright ridiculous. I was always a Weather Channel watcher during the winter when I lived in New England, especially since I had to go out and plow that stuff.  Living in this part of Arizona we don’t get snow, though we do have crazy dust storms and flash flooding and those have their own special nightmare quality.

   Seeing the travel ban in Connecticut reminds me of the blizzard of ’78, which was the first time I ever experienced a travel ban.  The big storm hit only weeks after the Hartford Civic Center roof collapsed due to accumulated snow. I had been there for a Marshall Tucker concert a few days prior to the roof coming down; talk about something that made your butthole pucker just thinking about it. For today’s storm the authorities got out ahead of the worst of the storm with the travel ban. Back in ’78 we were already ass deep to an elephant in snow by the time the Gov said, “Hey everyone, stay home!”

     Did a travel ban stop me and my running buddies from going out and buzzing around town in my silly little Pinto wagon? Nope!  Armed with a quart of brandy and other necessary supplies we spent a good part of the first night of the ban driving around helping push people out of snowbanks.  Our typical reward being a few beers for our trouble; of course we all needed more of those for the antifreeze effect. Right. The night culminated at the park about a block from my house with the last of brandy thunked into a snow bank, a toboggan and a big hill. I made the mistake of sitting in the front on what turned out to be the last run. We hit a bump, everyone’s weight shifted forward and my knee went pop! When I tried to stand up to walk back up the hill my knee was having none of that and I proceeded to collapse in a heap. My buddies loaded me on the toboggan and fortunately the snow on the streets made the task for those drunken sled dogs only slightly less aggravating than if they were clear. No doubt anyone that happened to glance out their window wondered what that collection of knuckleheads was doing out in that mess. Damn kids!  I crawled upstairs to bed when I got home and passed out. I was reminded of my previous evening’s debauchery when I collapsed on the floor after I got out of bed the next morning. A trip to the ER revealed torn cartilage and resulted in a few months of rehab. It had to be the damn snow’s fault didn’t it?

    In the mid 80’s I was living in Richmond when we were hit with 3 good sized snowstorms back to back around the first of the year. If any area was totally unprepared to handle snow of that magnitude it was Richmond.  My street was never plowed during the storms and we were essentially housebound for a few days. I tried digging for some old pictures of that storm; alas, they have been gobbled up by the sands of time during my many moves. I remember the snow being deeper than the tires on my little Subaru. It was an interesting few days for sure; snowman, snow forts and snowball fights ensued. I was out driving in the first storm and got behind a snowplow spreading sand, I think that is what he was trying to do anyway. I was puttering down the road to my house when I came up behind this plow truck weaving back and forth across the road. He was driving very slowly, from one side of the road to the other and I wondered what the hell he was doing until I got close enough. There was a sander on the back of the truck that I guess was either broken or had been set to only trickle sand out the back to save the city a few bucks. This guy was sanding the road with about a 2” wide strip that intermittently drizzled from the chute as he wove back and forth across the road. Jackson Pollack eat your heart out, this was winter street art of an epic degree; he was leaving a nice little brown ribbon that ran crisscross on the road. It was obvious that he or someone else had done the same thing previously from the opposite direction. I nearly wet myself laughing. The typical post storm occurrence in the Richmond area happened over the next 5 days, as all the snow was gone after the temps went up into the 50’s.

     My last winter in Connecticut before moving out to Arizona we almost hit century records for snowfall that winter. That winter just didn’t want to let go and in March it dumped over 2 feet of snow during a span of about 36 hours. I had planned a 4 day weekend. Silly me. The wet heavy snow just kept falling; I started to wonder when it was going to stop. It was probably one of the toughest snow cleanups I ever had. I plowed that mess in an old rot box GMC with a lousy heater and no exhaust. I didn’t sleep that night and neither did anyone else in the neighborhood while the storm howled in harmony with that old truck. By the time I was finished, my legs felt like they weighed 400 pounds each after all the hours I spent pushing the gas and the clutch. I can’t neglect to mention the untold number of times I had to get out and clean frozen snow off the windshield due to the crappy heater. I hired a handful of folks to help clear sidewalks and we must have cleared everything at least 3 or 4 times to keep ahead of the snow that just kept falling. I was running out of places to put snow by the time it was over since we still had some big piles hanging around from previous storms. I was never so glad to park that old truck. I don’t know who was more beat up after that, me or the truck. I left for Arizona 3 months later.

     Plowing snow is not easy work, though it was probably my favorite winter sport; I was never a skier or skater. I had a lot of fun doing it despite the weather conditions and the physical demands.  There were many moments of hilarity that ensued when the plow truck hit the street.

     Weather predicting has been much better since the Blizzard of ’78, though everyone still has to deal with the storm once it hits. My sincere hope is that anyone in the path of this current storm can keep the lights on; the heat turned up, and wrap their hands around a warm cup of something to help them ride out the storm.

      

It's a Brown Christmas Charlie

Christmas lights on palm trees, a very Arizona Christmas.

    Winter time in many locales is usually infused with brown as the primary color in the surrounding scenery; trees are hanging out naked, the last few leaves to jump from their limbs huddle at the base patiently waiting for the first leaf blower of spring. Your lawn takes on the color of the walls of your first low budget apartment, producing the sound of walking on a bed of corn flakes in your daily trek to investigate the postman’s offerings of more flyers and promises to save you money on your car insurance.

     Of course you could be lucky enough to have Santa deliver a blanket of snow for the holiday season, no doubt your opinion of the word luck determined by how thick that blanket is and whether or not the snow blower has enough gas on hand to allow you to make it possible to see the driveway again before spring time.  Of course, not everything is a dull shade of brown or dusty white, if there are evergreens populating your home turf. There is nothing quite like snow on evergreens, unless you happen to be standing beneath one when gravity decides it is time to free itself from its winter coat. 

                                                      

   Winter, no matter where you live brings to mind images of warm socks, thermal duds, and sitting in front of a crackling fireplace sipping something hot, either toddies or cocoa, whichever way your pleasure tends. We actually do that in Arizona, winter is winter, and desert cold is cold even if you think 50 is not. My friends from back East laugh at me when I tell them it’s cold here. I've realized cold is a relative term.  If you live in a place where the summer high is in the neighborhood of 85-90, and you drop the temperature 65-70 degrees, that’s kind of cold; not the “It’s so cold I’m going to die and it feels like there’s a porcupine in my nose’ type of cold. It’s just cold period. In this part of Arizona the summer highs typically get to 110-115 and if you drop the temp here 65-70 degrees that is going to feel cold.  That’s winter just being winter.

    Winter also brings thoughts of the holiday season to come; the snap in the morning air becomes a bit snappier after the goblins disappear from our sidewalks and plans turn to important things, like who can’t sit next to each other at Thanksgiving dinner.  By the time the last of the leftovers have finally disappeared from the fridge, Christmas decorations have been dragged from the attic or shed and begun to make appearances in our environs, including the dreaded strands of Christmas lights.

                                            Simple elegance.

                                                             

                        Shrek the Halls, or the front yard

                                                          

     In backyards and garages, on porches and patios everywhere, innocent Christmas lights become victims of a stream of vitriol usually reserved for the driver that hurries to get in front of you so he can go slow. This is done no doubt in the expectation that swearing at that rats nest of lights will magically cause them to untangle themselves before they swath the house in Christmas cheer for the coming weeks. Have no fear, those sturdy strands of blinking beauty can handle a few cuss words; all they want to do is show off and they do it oh so well.

             
                My first ever sighting of a reindeer with a parachute.

A cul-de-sac offering

      In Arizona, where brown is virtually a year round color scheme, the fall and winter months are when we start to see color, especially around Christmas time. Christmas lights are much more prevalent here than what I remember from the cold Northeast.  I've decided it has to be because it’s much more comfortable putting up lights when its 55 degrees outside as opposed to 25; no doubt when you’re hands aren't stiff with cold it’s a tad bit easier to really go all out. This is a sprawling city, filled with neighborhoods often built like a giant cul-de-sac, each containing a several smaller ones within their borders. It is apparent the residents of that cul-de-sac either get together to simply entertain or try to outdo the others in their semi-circle in the city. The light displays are impressive, whether they are simple and whimsical or garish and garbled, they have an inherent ability to bring out the season. Seeing Christmas lights wrapped around a palm will always make me giggle; I guess I‘m just an old Yankee and still associate Christmas lights with evergreens not desert plant life. I make a point to look for someone both brave and foolish enough to put Christmas lights on a cactus; it’s not impossible though removal time must be fraught with prickly consequences.

The group of lights in the back are in a tree that's tough to see in the pic. It looks like someone stood on the roof and threw them into the tree. 

The main drag in Gilbert, Arizona

   My wife and I enjoy looking at Christmas lights and finally decided to take some pictures this year, which are included here. We had a lot of fun driving around looking for interesting displays; the time just melted away.  We made a special trek to see if the little farm we were married at was lit up for the hoiliday; alas there we no lights lit at our special place.  As we gazed out the windows on our trek homeward what to our wondering eyes did appear, but a dune buggy lit up with Christmas cheer. A hasty pursuit culminated in a parking lot filled with more buggies lit to celebrate the season, some in the process of being loaded for home.  We interrupted a couple and their teenage son as they were beginning the process of loading their buggy on a trailer. They were both gracious enough to stop and talk to us for a few minutes. 

                                          
                                     Just a few of the buggy light parade.

   The wife told us that the group started about 7 years ago with just a handful of folks getting together to decorate their buggies and ride around town. Over the past several years it has grown to the point where 60 buggies joined in for this year’s night time light parade. We stopped to grab a few pics. It was a really neat way to end our Christmas light trek through the city.

   I've lived out here in the desert the past 20 years and Christmas still manages to sneak up on me, probably due to the fact snow is never in the forecast during this time of year. Seeing Christmas lights adorning houses, lampposts and palm trees is usually what it takes to get me in the Christmas spirit; Christmas lights on palm trees will never cease to make me smile.  This year seemed to fly by, don’t they all the older you get, this year I decided to put some thoughts of the season down on paper, or at least something approaching paper. My wish for you all is your Christmas was the merriest of all and the New Year brings success, love, good health and happiness.

                                                             

                            

                       

                   
    This was the find of the night with video below as a perfect compliment.

     

     I saved this for last. Turn the sound up on the video. We had the car radio tuned to a station playing Christmas music; timing as they say is everything.

                             

                                                        

    

    

Six Days in Heaven

                                                                            

     If any of you out there that read my words have noticed a decided lack of new posts, I apologize for not stopping amid the wonders that have assailed my senses the past week, though suffice it to say I was in heaven for six days. My wife and I took a trip to see family in upstate New York, where the air is clear and dirt free, the trees didn't come on a truck and the bodies of water you pass weren't made by a bulldozer. I gathered many ideas and threads to pull and though I took time to scribble a few notes I pretty much spent the time walking and drinking it all in. Note to self; it is time for some new walking shoes.

     Today was spent unpacking and putting life at home back in order after spending most of the past week just enjoying being out of the city and in among the trees. If I simply said I had a great time that would be an epic understatement. I think I OD’d on nature, not a bad way to go I’d say. This trip was a collection of firsts, as in first time meeting a big portion of my wife’s awesome family. The other “first”  really wasn’t a first, just a real long time in coming.  I was able to spend some time with one of my oldest friends from way back, the first time we’d seen each other in over 30 years.  Our conversations were spent remembering our days of glorious idiocy and some of the crazy things we did, but mostly we talked about what has gone on for each of us since we last sat in the same room. It was really good to see him and it sure didn’t feel like it had been 30 years since we’d seen each other; it felt more like 30 days. One could surely make this kind of stuff up, Hallmark movies are made with less material, though it most definitely happened to me and it was fantastic. I struggle for words as I write this knowing all that is contained on this page barely scratches the surface in describing the depths of feeling the past week or more has meant to me.

                                                                           

                               

     30 plus years gone in a flash, times change but good friends are forever. 

      My wife’s parents are both just real good solid folks, they are both warm, generous and have been welcoming to this old long-hair and made me really feel part of the family. They threw my wife and I a dinner party slash reception, hence the reason for our trip, so the rest of the family could celebrate our wedding with us,though a little late and I could finally get to meet them face to face. I must admit I was more than a little concerned beforehand, though any trepidation was quashed upon meeting them all. Each and every one made me feel a part of the family in their own way and the best part was being able to get a few minutes to talk to each of them in turn either at the party or over breakfast the next morning. Lots of genuine warm fuzzies were passed around.

     A whole host of things went through my mind over the course of those six days, including another note to self. When traveling to Saratoga Springs in October the next time bring more warm socks: I froze my ass off the first couple of days. It was definitely not easy to get back on the plane to come back here since I didn’t want to leave and because I don’t like flying, which is a rant for another post.

                                                                             

     Saratoga Springs has a really nice feel to it, when you can walk around downtown you notice the town has a lot of character. Most of the buildings are old and many of the ones that aren’t old are made in such a way that at least on the outside they keep to the general style of the area. If I needed to put that feeling I get walking around town into one word it would be homey; that cup of hot chocolate, old comfy sweater, curled up in front of the fireplace with a good book kind of homey feeling. I think this trip really drove home hard for me about how much I miss that feeling of hominess that is not easy to reproduce living out here in the desert, where 10 years old is old and there is no sense of permanence. Sure I may be romanticizing a bit, the winters would freeze the ears off a brass monkey and the snow is ass deep to an elephant in the dead of winter, though I still have the yen to put up with that again if I mainly because I can get the payoff in the spring, summer and fall. 


                   

The Adelphi Hotel in Saratoga Springs, just one of many cool old buildings.

With a world famous horse racing track in town many horse related items to see. 

Morning coffee view from the porch.

     Fall was always my favorite time of year when the leaves start changing color and littering everyone’s lawn.  Fall still is my favorite time of year, though here it just means I finally reached the point in the year I don’t feel like a boiled owl every time I go outside. We took a drive one day up to Jay to see relatives and I don’t think I said much, though per my usual, when a car trip starts, Gregg falls asleep before the odometer registers a mile. While I was awake I spent my time drinking in the leaves on the trees and watching the river flow by as we followed it for part of our journey. We stopped a couple of times to enjoy the scenery and the river, the highlight of which was the old covered bridge: the kind of place I could stay all day.

                                                                               

No description needed.

The Jay covered bridge. We spent some time hopping around the rocks in the river, just like a couple of kids on a holiday.

     A great trip for sure that was fulfilling in many ways and fantastic in its simplicity: Just spending time with really great people all the while surrounded by an amazing backdrop. Going back again won’t happen soon enough. And the answer is yes to those who are wondering; the when is the question, so we here are leaving all the windows and doors open for opportunity to present itself.

                                                               

                                                                               

Down by the river, pondering the possibilities.

Summer's Other Bookend

     Good bye summer, it's been an interesting and enlightening one for sure. Labor Day is upon us once more, the matching summer bookend to Memorial Day, the other day that lets us know its time to switch gears again; another of those waypoints in every year that remind us that change is the only constant. It is amazing how fast another year has gone by and 2014 is 2/3 done already. Summer is winding down, kids are back to school or will be this week, the water in the favorite swimming hole or pool suddenly seems colder than it did two weeks ago and all the plans start for the holidays that will come sooner than we imagine. When I was kid I hated when Labor day was getting close because it meant school was starting. Now this year especially I looked forward to it since I am fortunate to be able to say 3 day weekend. Not everyone is that lucky. Depending on where you live the weather has begun to throw out subtle reminders to let you know change is coming. The nights are cooler, there are more bugs huddled around the back porch light for warmth, the grass is looking a little less brown and a lot more green. Here in Arizona we are slowly moving from frying eggs on the sidewalk days to just plain old hot, though still hot enough to make me glad I no longer have to work outside everyday. The other day my wife and I were in the grocery store and she remarked to me that Halloween stuff is already filling the shelves. I reminded her that before Halloween gets here the decorations will be sharing shelf space with Thanksgiving and Christmas stuff. I laugh when I see the displays hitting the stores two months before a holiday, almost like the retailers think we are going to forget the day is approaching, though I understand the reasoning it still makes me shake my shaggy head. I find I miss New England the most in the fall when the leaves are changing, the days are just warm enough to be perfect for cruising the back roads on a motorcycle, the nights cause you to reach for that extra blanket and the smell of earth rises up to permeate everything that isn't covered by cement or asphalt. It is probably the main reason I prefer taking vacations this time of year if life permits it. Looking forward to spending a few days in upstate New York soon, where the change of seasons will have begun and the trees didn't come on a truck.