Bombogenesis

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Bandaloop Trio Dancing Across the Face of the Continental Building

What a difference a day makes. New day, new name (Bombogenesis instead of Bomb Cyclone), same old crappy weather. Unlike most natural disasters, snow storms reward indolence and punishes go-getters. Yesterday, Dan was expecting that he would be able to beat the current East Coast storm to NYC, but things soon unraveled not long after I had posted of his plans. The airlines started giving him the old two-step, with flight cancellations, coming one after another. This left him very frustrated. I think that he was more angry at himself for not booking an even earlier return than he did. One that would have likely seen there yesterday. Well, would have, could have, should have. At one point, he was considering driving to New York. Instead, we took him to the airport this morning and he flew off to Atlanta and landed just as his New York leg got canceled, leaving him stranded there for at least 25-hours. Not to worry though, because one of his friends comped him a hotel room and Bob and Nink’s daughter Meaghan will meet him later tonight for drinks. He’s a lucky man to have such friends that standup to help him in a time of need. Stay tuned, I’m sure the saga of Dan’s return to NYC will continue tomorrow.

Bomb Cyclone

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Sea Star

Those clever, clever people at the Weather Channel have invented yet another new phenomenon that they’re now calling a bomb cyclone, what has been called a nor’easter like forever. As if a cyclone alone isn’t destructive enough, they had to go out and weaponized one. This storm is supposed to terrorize the East Coast this week, starting down in Florida and then working its way north to NYC and  New England. Apparently, mother nature still has the biggest button of them all.

It’s forecast to strike NYC on Thursday, when Dan was planning on flying back to the Big Apple. He went online, looking for an alternative. Initially, American wanted $438 in change fees, even though they were already offering free flight changes further south. Eventually, though they updated their algorithm and were able to accommodate Dan for the lofty fee of 10¢. So, he leaves Saint Louis today, a day early, allowing him to easily make a Friday job appointment. Some more good news is that once this bomb cyclone leaves, our arctic cold snap will soon follow suit and depart too.

Not to belabor this winter weather, but we received a robo-call from the water company. It announced, “We don’t know if frozen pipes have caused you a service interruption or not, but if it has, then we don’t know when we will be able to restore your service. Have a nice day.” Thanks for the warning! Later, a salt-slurry truck came by and laid down chemicals on an ice river that had formed in the gutter from up the block, earlier this week. 

Life in the Ice Age

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Life in the Ice Age

We have to keep telling ourselves that this is just climate change and not global warming. Living life here, on the edge of the steppe, Anne and I huddle together for warmth. What little wood that I can find never seems to last. I’m left thinking that we should have migrated south. There is so little game around here now and it is always so cold. Mr. Snuffleupagus and his kin come later and later each year, if they even come at all. Raiders took the neighbors. They were four-legged demons, men on horseback. They swept down from the north on the cusp of this latest wintery blast. I heard that it was something about taxes.

Fred Flintstone was his name, Fred and Wilma. He always seemed kind of loud and bossy, but she seemed nice enough. Anyway, no one deserves that fate. Fred had just been showing off to me his new 60″ HD wall carvings. I really liked watching the new show, 10,000 BC. It seemed so modern. They say that it is supposed to get warmer again, in a few millennia. I certainly hope so. It is hard to believe that it is only the 2nd.  It’s going to be a long ice age and don’t start with any of that Game of Thrones, winter is coming crap. Winter is already here, you [explicit deleted] moron.