I feel for you folks east of the Rockies. It's been like April here all week -- mid-70s, low wind, the only reminder that it's nominally winter being the moderately cool (40-45º) nights. Today's been even better -- yardwork all morning, hang outside and read all afternoon, barbecue some chicken and andouille skewers in a while, wash it down with Red Hook Winter Brew.
Come summer, when wildfire season hits like a ton of bricks, compounded by drought from three dry winters, it'll get ugly. But I conserve water and keep my field mowed, as do most of the people in this area, so all we can do is ride the wave. It's just weird to think about friends and relatives in Iowa and Missouri and such, and there's about a hundred-degree discrepancy right now.
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This difference of 100 degrees between states should remind people that America is not really a country, but a continent. I've been freezing my ass off here waiting to see Obama come out and speak yesterday. After a couple of hours in 25 degrees weather, I was ready to cry.
Naturally, a lot of sub-mediocre non-entities and local apparatchiks were trotted out first, hoping to ride on his coat-tails. To anyone with a brain, their hope was sorely misguided; a cleverer politician would have kept their "speeches" short and terse, knowing that they'll be followed by Muhammad Ali of oratory. The contrast between them and him was painful to watch.
Of course, everything was shadowed by the local mayor's being indicted for theft and corruption, hence unable to come out and say anything anywhere within a mile of Obama. Instead, they had the governor deliver some meandering shit about hope soaring like eagles with spread wings and some such crap (it reminded me of Bush's "where wings take dream.") I bet he must be crying bitter tears of rage at night when he remembers his supposed train to the White House just left without him this November. (A talentless hack, he always thought -- and was encouraged to think -- that a youthful haircut and a brief stint as the mayor of a deeply fucked-up city is enough to propel one to the First Magistracy of the Republic.)
Anyway, fuck these clowns. This really cold snap actually just reminded me that I grew up in weather like this -- winters in Bucharest are much like Minnesota. My advisor, who got his doctorate at Minneapolis, told me he used to fall several times every winter on those sidewalks covered in slick ice for weeks at a time, when it never gets warm enough to melt it. That's what I used to do, too. Cursed winter. I need me a job in California.
Yep, the unemployment is still high here, but the hunting is far more pleasant. Although it would have been cool to catch Obama on the whistle-stop tour. For some reason, that seems more charming than the ginormous inauguration throng/pilgrimage.
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