Weather. It's around us all the time.* Usually you don't give a damn about it until it affects you personally. It is the stuff of small-talk, patter between strangers. We have smartphone apps that show us fronts rolling in, and, for some, the first thing to check in the morning, and the last at night.
Poets write sonnets about weather. Writers use it to create moods. My grandfather Dick Westlake said,
But that's not all! He also said often, "Cold today, hot tamale!" Dick was the cool grandfather.
I have received an inordinate amount of ridicule from some folks about my hatred for the endless blue skies of Florida. I think it is boring down here, weather-wise.** I'm a mid-westerner; we see bags forming in the West and wonder if we'll get enough to settle dust or flood the basement.
I like rainy days. I like rainy days on weekends when you can stay inside and "veg". Grab a book, binge on TV, finish a project in the garage, or just sit in your chair and watch the loveliness of an all-day soaker. Yeah, I guess we Midwestern types have a special kinship with weather. Not always friendly, but usually congenial our alliance with it is kind of like the side of the family you never see; aware of its existence, and fascinated, but not altogether sad when they leave.
Florida weather, like so much of the state, is kind of abrupt to a Midwestern guy like me. The traffic is never-ending. City people are forgettable and more often than not rude. There is a hardness that grows on city folks, a "me" kind of hardness that tries to get that parking space close to the front door, along with three other drivers. It's a hardness that grows over time that helps you wage battle with the street scammers, the inflated prices, the race for a destination along with a hundred other thousand. Its the crowded stores and jostled carts, the ever-locked doors and the constant sounds of rubber on roads, planes, and helicopters. Florida is a plastic state but it delivers in one area, sunshine. Immutable, constant, and a daily reminder to a Midwesterner, that something is missing in their lives.
Rain, if there is any, usually comes in late afternoon and lasts about 5 to 15 mines, then the sun comes back out to bake what has been spritzed. It's a form of basting. Complain all you want, you Northlanders, but spend just a little time in the Sunshine State and you'll be wanting to see that other side of the family again.
* While I was in Northlandia I was witness to a couple really good thunder boomers. The videos on this page were taken from Pat's front door in her place in Knoxville. We just never get anything like this down here. While true lovers of Florida will protest and say they get rain and storms and hey, what about hurricanes, the truth is that is seldom does any of those things, not like the Midwest.
** Of course, there are exceptions. For the past week or so we have received a great deal of moisture, and on Saturday evening we even experienced some flooding here at Bedlam. Lightening strikes and cars pulled over on 19; the entrance gate rendered inoperable due to lightening. See below.
Poets write sonnets about weather. Writers use it to create moods. My grandfather Dick Westlake said,
"Cold winds may blow,
snow may fall,
how well we know,
God loves us all."
But that's not all! He also said often, "Cold today, hot tamale!" Dick was the cool grandfather.
I have received an inordinate amount of ridicule from some folks about my hatred for the endless blue skies of Florida. I think it is boring down here, weather-wise.** I'm a mid-westerner; we see bags forming in the West and wonder if we'll get enough to settle dust or flood the basement.
I like rainy days. I like rainy days on weekends when you can stay inside and "veg". Grab a book, binge on TV, finish a project in the garage, or just sit in your chair and watch the loveliness of an all-day soaker. Yeah, I guess we Midwestern types have a special kinship with weather. Not always friendly, but usually congenial our alliance with it is kind of like the side of the family you never see; aware of its existence, and fascinated, but not altogether sad when they leave.
Florida weather, like so much of the state, is kind of abrupt to a Midwestern guy like me. The traffic is never-ending. City people are forgettable and more often than not rude. There is a hardness that grows on city folks, a "me" kind of hardness that tries to get that parking space close to the front door, along with three other drivers. It's a hardness that grows over time that helps you wage battle with the street scammers, the inflated prices, the race for a destination along with a hundred other thousand. Its the crowded stores and jostled carts, the ever-locked doors and the constant sounds of rubber on roads, planes, and helicopters. Florida is a plastic state but it delivers in one area, sunshine. Immutable, constant, and a daily reminder to a Midwesterner, that something is missing in their lives.
Rain, if there is any, usually comes in late afternoon and lasts about 5 to 15 mines, then the sun comes back out to bake what has been spritzed. It's a form of basting. Complain all you want, you Northlanders, but spend just a little time in the Sunshine State and you'll be wanting to see that other side of the family again.
* While I was in Northlandia I was witness to a couple really good thunder boomers. The videos on this page were taken from Pat's front door in her place in Knoxville. We just never get anything like this down here. While true lovers of Florida will protest and say they get rain and storms and hey, what about hurricanes, the truth is that is seldom does any of those things, not like the Midwest.
** Of course, there are exceptions. For the past week or so we have received a great deal of moisture, and on Saturday evening we even experienced some flooding here at Bedlam. Lightening strikes and cars pulled over on 19; the entrance gate rendered inoperable due to lightening. See below.
OK, so I might be a little biased.
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