And so the monsoon came to
town yesterday, complete with intense flashes of lightning and downpours so
tremendous that one could forgive an impartial observer for wondering if Noah
and the Ark would be floating down Main Street any time soon, and, if so, would
they stop at Subway’s to pick up some sandwiches for the wife and the kids and
the two of every sort of creature that walketh or creepeth upon the face of the
Earth as they headed off towards the mountains of Ararat? The wind howled in a suitably gruesome manner
and the sky turned black in the middle of the day and all the denizens of our
happy little burg trembled under the fury of the storm. And then, of course, there were the people
who braved the wrath of nature and went forth into the storm in order to get a
gallon of milk or a pound of ground chuck at the supermarket, brave men and
women who refused to bow down before dictates of nature but who wandered out,
umbrellas in hand, leaving this observer to wonder just how much of a dumbass
do you have to be to go outside in a thunderstorm holding a metal spike in the
air? First, when the winds are lashing
around at about sixty miles an hour your umbrella is not going to help you; it
will not even make an adequate sail, should you find yourself in a situation
where you need an adequate sail. I’m not
saying that will ever happen in real life, you understand, but it might, and an
umbrella that the wind has turned inside out is worse than useless. It won’t keep the rain out of your face and
it certainly won’t help shield you from the rest of the elements, which, I have
noticed, tend to be fairly nasty during these meteorological temper tantrums. Sec0nd, during the aforementioned
meteorological temper tantrums the abundant lightning whips about striking both
willy and nilly, deep frying them to a golden toasty brown. Given this, I
repeat my previous question: why are these dolts going outside holding a metal
spike in the air? To me, this appears to
be almost suicidal behavior, almost as if these poor saps were volunteering to
have Nature in all her mystery and majesty remove their clearly bargain
basement chromosomes from the gene pool in as expeditious a manner as
possible. While I am all for improving
humanity and its morals, this appears to me to be a very short-sighted, if not
more than vaguely painful way of accomplishing this altogether laudatory
goal. Wouldn’t all of these people be
much better off if they simply stayed indoors until the storm blows by and then
go out for a gallon of milk?
Labels: bad weather, good weather, opinions, Roberta Vasquez, stuff, stupidity, thunderstorms, weather
