Inside Out Seasons

There is a phenomenon that I’ve experienced twice a year since moving to Arizona that I don’t’ remember experiencing in any other places I’ve lived.  It happens in the spring and again in the fall though the manifestations are complete opposites.  It’s been occurring here again at my abode the past week creating a nightly debate on whether or not to open the windows before bedtime. Spending 6 months stuck in air-conditioning breathing the same recycled air gets tiresome and I always attempt to put it off as long as I can.

During both spring and fall the temperature inside and the temperature outside just don't seem to match the season.  In the fall the outside temp can be around 74, 75 and inside the house it can struggle to hit 66.  If I dress based on the inside temp I’m overdressed.  When spring rolls around it can be cooler outside at around 75 and inside the house my thermometer tells me its 85.  No matter where I’ve lived here apartment, house, and now a trailer it happens, though I’m not sure if living in this trailer makes that discrepancy more noticeable or not.  Either way those occurrences become the best times of year to sit outside with a drink in one hand and a book in the other.

Spring has sprung in virtually every part of the country by this point in the year. Some locales are still experiencing cold nights after a day of glorious sunshine and open windows. Spring in most places means the snow shovel can go back in the garage and it’s time to string up the hammock in anticipation of those lazy days of summer. Spring brings rain that helps trees regain their foliage, flowers to bloom, and can cause flooding if the snowpack was rather deep the past winter. We have those bursts of nature out here in the desert southwest only we have flash floods instead, because drainage is afterthought and water goes where it wants to.

Here in Arizona we experience spring with a daily prayer that we won't have to turn the A/C on just yet. The average first 100 degree day is May 2nd and since we've already hit 100 this year you know the old A/C has been earning its keep. 

We've already prepared ourselves for that boiled owl feeling that occurs every Arizona summer, that time is fast approaching.  Because everything is air-conditioned here one is willing to venture outside, hopefully without burning your hands on the steering wheel before a trip to the grocery store.  The sun so hot I froze to death could very well apply if you work in an office out here. Most buildings here in summer typically have a temperature setting rivaling that of a meat locker; stepping outside will make you shiver.  It is not uncommon to see someone waiting for a bus in 110 degree heat with a sweater over their arm and it just looks odd, really odd. 

Summer here can be like winter in other places; that extreme in temperature you just learn to deal with because you live there. We sure do get some gorgeous sunsets though.

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.