Tuesday, October 19, 2004
It Was A Dark and Stormy Night
Just after I put up that "I (Heart) Leiberman" post last night I heard an odd sound out the office window. A siren. Going to stick my head out the door to try to determine direction I paused to observe the spectacular lightning show in progress.
Siren was coming from the right, which is east, which is town. The sound didn't appear to be going north or south, which would mean cops on the highway, but rather up or down. That's the tornado whistle. THIS isn't good, I said to the dog. She agreed but made no other comment, which I took as a good sign.
So I went back to brooding over the matter of early voting. Started here last Tuesday, which means this brood has been gestating for a week now. Should I vote early and give potential evildoers two weeks to root around in the box o'ballots at the county office? We still use punchcards here, which, like Richard Nixon, I don't find nearly as offensive as I used to. Easy enough to pull them out of their envelopes, check where the chad is missing, and oopsie some into the trash.
On the other hand much can happen in two weeks. Cursing my indecisive nature while padding back down the hall to the office to check weather.com, a flash of my childhood religious indoctrination came back and I mumbled "Oh Lord, send me a sign."
At that moment a flash of near-atomic brightness split the night and a clap of thunder shook the walls, and the heavens opened to pour rain upon my shingles. The TV lost the satellite signal and moments later the power as well.
Staring humbly at the ceiling, or at least where in the darkness I imagined the ceiling to be, I said "You didn't have to shout, you know" and went in search of the candles.
I'll be voting later today. Really.
Siren was coming from the right, which is east, which is town. The sound didn't appear to be going north or south, which would mean cops on the highway, but rather up or down. That's the tornado whistle. THIS isn't good, I said to the dog. She agreed but made no other comment, which I took as a good sign.
So I went back to brooding over the matter of early voting. Started here last Tuesday, which means this brood has been gestating for a week now. Should I vote early and give potential evildoers two weeks to root around in the box o'ballots at the county office? We still use punchcards here, which, like Richard Nixon, I don't find nearly as offensive as I used to. Easy enough to pull them out of their envelopes, check where the chad is missing, and oopsie some into the trash.
On the other hand much can happen in two weeks. Cursing my indecisive nature while padding back down the hall to the office to check weather.com, a flash of my childhood religious indoctrination came back and I mumbled "Oh Lord, send me a sign."
At that moment a flash of near-atomic brightness split the night and a clap of thunder shook the walls, and the heavens opened to pour rain upon my shingles. The TV lost the satellite signal and moments later the power as well.
Staring humbly at the ceiling, or at least where in the darkness I imagined the ceiling to be, I said "You didn't have to shout, you know" and went in search of the candles.
I'll be voting later today. Really.
