Suburban Meterological Nightmare!! OOOOHH Scary!!!
Read on, in awe, of the near disasterous weather in Florrisant recently which Nick nevertheless regarded with his usual unflinching, Clint-Eastwood-like gaze.
Date: Sun, 14 Jun 1998 15:42:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nick
To: Scott
Subject: Suburban Meterological Nightmare!! OOOOHH Scary!!!
I have a harrowing tale of heroic bravery, selfless sacrifice, and unerring patience, concerning today’s horrible and terrifying—WEATHER EVENT!!! (fanfare please)
It was today, 6/14/98 at 7:25 a.m. I had only crawled into bed hours before after watching yet another bad movie for the hundredth time. I was listening to the radio, trying to gather the energy to relieve my pulsing bladder. There was the sound of rain hitting the awning outside my open window.
Then suddenly, all the electricity shut off!! [now snap your fingers] Just like that!! Outside, all proverbial hell was turning loose, like that song by Loverboy.
In my kerchef, I sprang from my bed to see what the was going on. A banging sound led me into the kitchen. The wind was fierce, wet, treacherous. While closing a small window I got a full on look outside.
The wind was not only going 50 or so MPH, but it was blowing the rain, leaves, and the wooden bench in our back yard sideways. Several items of potted foliage were also flung around helplessly by the demon spawn winds. You could almost here their cries of pain. Ceramic pottery crashing, spilling the plants life-soil onto the wet ground.
Something fell next door. Well, really it was something next door (in the form of half a tree) falling onto my brothers car.
My first enthusiastic thought was, “Tornado!! Cool! Let’s go check it out!” I’ve never been in a tornado before, much less ‘in a tornado’. Personal history was about to be made. However, it occurred to me, while the winds were whipping madly it was still raining, tornado’s usually end all precipitation as if too say, “Here I come! Let the f***ing Up…commence.”
By this time, the sound of hard worked landscaping being hurled around awoke the rest of the family. As it turns out, in an act of selflessness, one of the dogs, Kelcey (aka, Selfish Bitch), lept onto the bed to make sure the unit recognized as ‘The Mom’ was awake before she dove under the bed to protect her own sorry ass.
It was as if the family’s awakening motioned the wind to cease, like that part in that one movie. Which is a good thing, I’m quite certain that one or more of the rest of the family would have, I believe the phrase is ‘shit themselves nasty’ if they would have been awake during The Wind.
At his point, it was raining. Heavily. It reminded me of The ‘Nam (at least Rambo II’s version) and our back yard was becoming a small pond of water, leaves & shit, broken pottery, and human feet (which were ours.) The water was so deep that Kelcey couldn’t keep her butt up high enough to pee. Poor thing (heh heh) had to e on itself.
Speaking of ion, as I stood out there in the calm continuous downpour of wet, liquid rain, gushing off the roof, soaking the ground and overflowing the rain gutter my palpitating bladder made it’s intentions of imminent self destruction known. While running to the potty it occurred to me, that in spite of the phenomenal biological need to whiz, the need to protect my family (as well as my letters, photos, books, cd’s, a puppet, half bottle of ‘Schlager, every issue of ***** ******* Bitches, and my *******) aided me in the need to hold the fowlness until the coast was clear.
After adding a little something of myself to the fluid filled morning I went back outside. Neighbors were timidly peaking outside, beginning to see the horror of the weather event. They began recounting their own tales of courage and sacrifice.
One neighbor was awoken by rain hitting him in the face. He noted his bedroom was clear on the other side of the room. It’s amazing he survived. Another shaken neighbor was standing among us without having, and I’m not kidding, her morning coffee. Mom na to the crowd the incredible gallantry of Kelcey. They too think the Selfish Bitch was incredibly gallant. They were all in fact like our other dog, Bandit (aka, Skiddish Little Guy Ain’t Ya). But, he isn’t that little.
Some assessed the damage as others looked on agreeing with and repeating whatever was said. It was inspiring to see so many people looking out for O.P.P (Other People’s Broken Stuff).
The clean up process began. Trees were dragged out to the street, plants re-potted, furniture set up right, and I decided to take a nap. I was tired from not giving a flying f*** about any of it.
Chainsaws filled the air like the Song Of Joy. Many people tried to buy chainsaws but as you can imagine after a natural disaster like this, they were sold out. Reason #2 to always carry a chainsaw in your trunk.
Luckily, Dad had what is known to history buffs as a ‘Battery Powered AM Radio’ in what I’m assuming was a very old fallout shelter kit. We tuned it to one of these mysterious “AM” stations and listened for news on the rest of the city. People were calling the DJ to tell their stories, stories just like ours.
The DJ really really really seemed to care about all of these people. Residents were even calling into politely add to what other callers had said. One man called twice, yes twice, because his CB tower is leaning against his house. The DJ gave the man a heartfelt, “Huh. Next caller,” and moved his Crusade Of Hope forward.
I fell asleep as the Voices Of The People drifted over me. Telling about hope, courage, peace, occasional whining, and neighbors helping neighbors.
It is a moment (snif) that will live (snif) (snif) (HONK) forever.
Date: Sun, 14 Jun 1998 15:48:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nick
To: scb3@cec.wustl.edu
Subject: Oh yeah…Reason #1 to always carry a chainsaw in your trunk…—————-self defense
Date: Sun, 14 Jun 1998 16:07:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nick
To: Scott
Subject: One more last thing
I forgot one thing.
As I lay there on the couch, listening to the People (power to the people!) my dad said he was going out for doughnuts. Mom told me this. I replied, “Gooood.”
“You know he just wants to look at the damage,” she replied. (We had a few people stop in front of our house long enough to have their rubber necks snap back in place.) I retorted, “If the man uses Doughnuts to mask his need to rubberneck, so be it, let him continue his noble quest.”