Friday, January 5, 2018

Sublimating bombogenisis

Yep, we got some weather. Tedious subject, I know, as this is now the second post in a row where I have mentioned it. Oh well, it's too freakin' cold to talk about anything else.

Went for walkies Wednesday evening, it was brisk out, a bit dampish, and when I got home I found that the recliner was calling my name. I wrapped myself up in a blanket, started watching Serpico, when next thing I know I get a call that there is a blizzard going on. No way - I was just out there, what are you talking about - sure enough - there was already over an inch of accumulated snow.

Next day dawned clear and bright:


But since then it has been below freezing, with temperatures drifting into single digits. Those whose job it is to sensationalize the weather are now saying that we will set a record for the longest sustained period below freezing EVER! Well, in 30-something years, anyway. It won't get above 32 until Monday, and I know many of you are all like "Dude, heatwave!"

So, how cold is it? I just went for another walk and it's so cold that everyone I saw out walking was wearing a parka. That's how cold it is -- we are wearing freakin' parkas! In the South! Cue Ron White! We all look like freakin' Frosty over here! 

But enough about that -- how about something completely different, Renee Fleming singing Casta Diva from Norma. The architecture, the 3+ minute long pan shot that opens this video, not to mention the sublime singing warms my heart.


Renee Fleming is an American treasure. What coloratura - I am in awe.

11 comments:

ricpic said...

Yes, you were all wearing parkas...but you were walking barefoot...it's a Southern thing.

ndspinelli said...

I don't have a problem w/ you Rebels down south whining about "cold" weather." I have a problem when Rebels complain about hot weather and Yankees complain about cold.

The Dude said...

LOL, ricpic - it's as if you were there.

I try not to complain about the heat, I like summer, I like heat, but last summer kicked my posterior. I think I am getting old. Hell, I know I am getting old.

ampersand said...

Predictions are for temps to be in the mid 40s Wednesday and Thursday in Chicago. That may mirror gun shot victims as well.

ampersand said...

Predictions are for temps to be in the mid 40s Wednesday and Thursday in Chicago. That may mirror gun shot victims as well.

Dad Bones said...

The cold will kill you and the heat will oppress you. It makes me take naps I don't think I should have to take. I'm getting to be the old dog who has the shady spots staked out and doesn't bother to stand up to do his barking.

edutcher said...

So, how cold is it? I just went for another walk and it's so cold that everyone I saw out walking was wearing a parka. That's how cold it is -- we are wearing freakin' parkas! In the South!

And in single digits OH, there are idiots in shorts.

Chip Ahoy said...

There is one person I know who thrives in cold weather far beyond all other people I know.

*high pitched ventriloquist's voice* Give us an example, Chip.

Uh. Okay. One late frozen night, early morning actually, it was weather such as described here. The plows on Colfax left a very tall ridge of plowed snow running down the center of the street. Usually a very busy street but it was so cold and so late there were no other cars w-a-a-a-a-a-y out on East Colfax in the vicinity of onetime Fitzsimmons.

On a cross street our way across Colfax was blocked by the newly plowed snow ridge. My friend driving bashed into it with his Cutlass Supreme straight on. And got half way through then stuck in the middle. This was pre-cellphone era. We were isolated in subzero cold, high-centered in a snow pile. I thought to myself silently, "Oh, fuck. This idiot did it again." He rocked the car back and forth out of the situation and we're on the right side of the hill. I thought to myself silently, "Hurray! We're free and now on our way" A feeling of tremendous relief washed over me. To my dismay he backed up the car through the pile again. Got stuck again. He rocked again, freed again, but now on the original wrong side of the hill where we started, bashed again, stuck again, rocked again, freed again, bashed again, stuck again, and I thought to myself out loud this time because I heard the words in my ears, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm making a path through the obstruction."

He was enjoying himself out in the cold, in the snow, with all Colfax to ourselves.

On ski trips to Aspen, Vail, Durango, but mostly to Breckenridge, even at my own parent's condo, he would be first up in the freezing cold morning, first dressed, first outside, first to shovel, first on the ski slope. First everywhere. I go, "What is it with you, Dude, is this your Minnesota Swedish heritage coming through, or what?" He goes, "Yeah."

I took a photograph of him skiing off the roof of my house. This was way before all these Xtreme snowboarding sports. He's in his 70s now and still has season passes to Breckenridge, Keystone, A-Basin. He is singularly the most prepared individual I know. All those preparedness things you see all time. He lives that. Anything you could possibly need for any emergency, chains, flares, beacons, flashlights, jumper cables, sand, blankets, extra coats, rain gear, boots, gloves, hats, emergency food, warming chemicals, even emergency cash, right there, boxed and sorted inside his trunk.

He's also a major pain in the ass but I suppose that goes without saying. For example, say, if you were to load up the vehicle for any trip, any vehicle, long or short, he would unpack it and repack it properly.

I just now remembered something a little bit funny. My friends called one of my father's cars the QEII Land Yacht. I have a visual image of this guy packing our skis in the trunk sideways. All our skis fit right in the trunk, axle-wise. And none were sort skies either. They were all 210s, none of those silly 170 skis that carve out tiny moguls. Whereas my own car struggled up 170 to the Eisenhower tunnel, the Lincoln town car chewed up the road. It seemed eager to grab onto the road and fly up it. You had to really watch it because it constantly got out of hand. That was the most awesome car ever, for skiing.

Joe Biden, America's Putin said...

QEII Land Yacht

bwahahaaaa. That brings back memories. My father, who headed his own little company back in the day, had HAD to drive a big ass land yacht. You need room in there to take out of town biznis guests to lunch.

I am so grateful those types of cars hit the dustbin. now we can all enjoy practical sizes, and shapes with practical specs and 4 wheel drive.

deborah said...

Lovely, Sixty, thanks.

MamaM said...

now we can all enjoy practical sizes,

They did have some awesome trunks! My mom had a Buick LaSabre that wasn't in the land yacht category, but glided along like it was sailing, with power to spare and a spacious enough trunk to hold luggage for 4-5. It earned the name Silver Slipper and served as the starter car for two young drivers after she was done with it.

While I wouldn't want to drive one of those again, they weren't without benefits including ease of repair.