Let's Talk Storms. And Politics!

It seems that Hurricane Sandy is bearing down on the entire east coast right now, so at my place we're sitting around enjoying our electricity and internet while we can.

It somewhat reminds me of what we decided to call the Best Trip Ever (positive thinking!), when I visited my sister in Jamaica right when Hurricane Dean was coming through. She was in the Peace Corps at the time, and we found ourselves holed up in the US Embassy in Kingston for a couple of days, sleeping on the floor in someone's cubicle, freezing cold because the air conditioner was set way high and we had foolishly not packed warm clothes to visit or live in Jamaica.

Good times.

I don't really anticipate Sandy being quite that exciting once it reaches the Boston area, but you never know. Mainly, I hope lingering power outages don't interfere with the election.

I'm eager to get votin,' not only because of this whole presidency thing we've got going on right now in the United States, but also because we have all kinds of interesting ballot questions in Massachusetts.

Check it out: We've got medical marijuana, assisted dying, and something about requiring car manufacturers to make repair information available to the owner, not just to licensed dealers.

I don't own a car, so I don't really know much about this last one, but as a librarian I guess I pretty much have to vote for freely available information. I should probably try to get a copy for the collection, too.

As for medical marijuana and assisted dying, yeah, if anyone cares about my politics I'm going with yes for both.

The medical marijuana opponents are arguing that medical use is just a wedge, and will lead to looser laws regarding marijuana in general, and I say "not necessarily, but frankly I hope it does." I just think marijuana is a stupid thing for law enforcement to be spending time on and for people to be going to jail for.

And if you're worried about the slippery slope and fear that if we decriminalize marijuana in any way, next thing you know toddlers will be buying crack cocaine out of vending machines in the subway station?

Nah. I think it's possibly to draw a legal line between marijuana and cocaine. As evidence, I will point out that we have maintained a legal line between marijuana (illegal) and alcohol (legal) for many years! And you cannot try to pretend that alcohol is not a drug, frequently abused, with profound consequences for society. Easily as significant, I would argue, as the consequences of marijuana use.

Good people, I don't smoke marijuana, so personally it doesn't even matter to me, but it is my nonsmoker's opinion that we should be decriminalizing marijuana at a rapid pace, and that is my political statement of the day.

Oh, except I also have a second political statement of the day, which is, I would really like the option to be available for me to die at a time of my choosing rather than just waiting around for my body to suffocate me or whatever if I happen to come down with some horrible fatal condition, so I am pro-assisted dying.

And if you're worried about the slippery slope and fear that if we legalize physician-prescribed medication to end life, next thing you know toddlers will be buying suicide pills out of vending machines in the subway station?

Or, more to the point, the toddler's parents will be urging grandma to take the suicide pills so as not to eat into their inheritance with healthcare costs?

OK, I actually don't want to be as flippant about this one, because I think there are legitimate questions about, say, whether death is really the best option in cases of incurable illness, or only the best option given the lousy support systems in place to care for people with incurable illness. I can see having reservations about this.

We certainly don't want suicide to become "the logical choice" that gets pushed on people because it's convenient for other people.

Still, I think that denying all people the option to make that choice because some of them might be constrained by material considerations, and calling it good (rather than, say, working on the systems that might make the material considerations less pressing) is a cop out.

Also, I think it's entirely possible to value one person's choice to die, and another person's choice to live, if both have similar diagnoses. If I have the right to request medication to end life, that doesn't mean I have to take it. And if I decide to take it, while you, with an equally grim prognosis, decide to wait for the end to arrive naturally? I totally support you in that.

Basically it comes down to this: Choice. I am for it.

Also freely available information, the better to allow for educated choice. In car repair, as in life.

Bah

Ugh. It's entirely too warm and stuffy for this time of year.

I'm swooning alternately under the weight of my hot computer, and of my knitting.

Leaving the Windows Open

On second thought, those "crickets" might actually be frogs. Calling out from over in the marshy ditch behind the building.

Hey, I haven't lived outdoors for a long time. Whatever facility I may have ever had with the identification of chirping things in the night has faded.

Anyway, it's kind of nice.

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Lethargy

It's too hot. And humid. And there's too much depressing news.

It did rain buckets on my walk to the train home from work. I might as well have taken a brief dip while wearing my clothes. It was somewhat refreshing.

And there's something about getting truly drenched that just makes you shrug and say "what the heck." No point hurrying to get out of the rain now!

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Don't Push It, Winter

I know people are not interested in complaints about other peoples' weather, but I have to say, it is a truly disgusting evening in Boston right now.

It was snowing this morning, which is one thing, but then the snow turned to rain, which turned the snow on the ground to slush.

The storm drains are clogged or frozen, so the streets became riddled with ankle-deep puddles of ice cold filthy water, and the sidewalks, if there's not enough of an indent to collect similar puddles, are coated with a thin, thin gloss of nicely slippery ice.

Don't forget that it's still raining, so you can get good and damp that way even if you don't slip on the ice and fall in a puddle.

And of course the slush will freeze solid overnight, so tomorrow it will be like trying to walk over acres of oiled golf balls.

Yes, by gum, this is weather that lets a person know he or she is alive! Right up until he or she freezes to death.

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Wind? Pfah!

I choose to disbelieve in wind chill. Yeah, yeah, a breeze makes you feel cooler (or freezing colder) than if the air is still. That's why we use fans.

But I am not really interested in hearing "it's 40 degrees out but with a wind chill factor of 20, so tremble!!!"

Do we hear "it's 95 out, but with wind chill it only feels like 80, so feel good!!!" in the summer? No. And I don't want to.

The thing is, wind is variable. Maybe the wind chill is 15 out in the park but only 5 on the street in front of your office. Maybe it's 20 during gusts, but 0 during lulls.

I just don't think talking about wind chill says much that's particularly valuable. Sure, tell me if it's windy out, but don't expect me to get all worked up about some specific number.

Bah. That's what I say.


On a happier note, it turns out that scrubbing the spots vigorously with soap and soaking garments in cold water and Woolite for 24 hours will do a pretty good job of taking out a red wine stain. I can wear these clothes again!

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Cooling Temper

Bless you, Former Hurricane Earl. You weren't much by the time you got here, but they said you'd break that heat wave, and you did it.

The cool, refreshing, non-humid air that currently wafts delightfully around us is like the cool, refreshing, non-humid breath of some sort of lovely Autumnal Dragon.

My metaphor-generating prowess may not be much improved, but my temperament certainly is.

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What Doesn't Kill Us, Makes Us Irritable

Hurricane Earl was supposed to break this heat wave for us, yet here I am, still sweltering away like a gently steaming pot of broccoli!

Or something.

When I get hot and irritable enough, my metaphor-generating prowess suffers.

The point is, it's raining, and it may even be cooling off outside, but here in my lair where there's no cross breeze, it's still...I don't know, maybe 88 degrees, and humid. Which may not sound that bad, but it really is, because I'm a sensitive soul who can't take the heat and therefore spends limited time in the kitchen (this is true--I go in there mainly to retrieve the peanut butter).

Yeah, I enjoyed my visits to Alabama (Roll Tide!), but I don't know if I could live in the south. With the heat and the sweatiness, it would be a nonstop irritability party for me. I suppose one gets used to it, or else learns to love air conditioning, but I cherish the idea that this will eventually pass.

And give way to bone-chilling cold and the opportunity to slip and break your ankle on the icy sidewalk, which is why some people do prefer to live in the south. Trade offs.

Here's another thing about the south, though: we should really stop using a Southern accent as comedy shorthand for 'dumb hick.' I love the Simpsons, but they do this all the time (well, pretty much every time they need a dumb hick, anyway). Everyone does.

Nobody with an accent gets off completely free, of course. If you talk funny, by whatever standard, you're fair game. Southern accent, Texas accent, Boston accent, New York accent, Minnesota accent, whatever. (I'm obviously relying on US regional accents for my examples here, but I expect it may be the same in other countries.)

Fortunately for me, Montana has kind of a neutral accent as far as the US is concerned, plus we moved around a lot, so I don't have a very distinctive speech pattern (as far as I know--not that anyone thinks they have an accent, it's everyone else who talks weird).

Thus I mostly escape the taunts of the other children on the schoolyard, except when I slip up and say 'pop' instead of 'soda'.

Shut up! That's what we call it!

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Storms Ahead

Rumor has it that Hurricane Earl, currently heading in the general direction of 'along the East Coast' may sideswipe or even hit Massachusetts. There's a hurricane warning on for Westport and points east, including Cape Cod, with a tropical storm warning for points east up to Maine.

Not just Maine: Eastport, Maine. That's like the east-est port you can get in the United States! And I've been there. Because that's how much I (and my friend who took me there) rock. A lot.

Additional storm warnings address North Carolina Virgina, New York, south of Massachusetts, and New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, so I don't want to say we're the only ones who have reason to take notice.

Oh, National Weather Service, what would we do without your tireless updates?

My last hurricane, and indeed my only prior hurricane experience, was Dean in Jamaica in 2007. I waited out that one in the U.S. embassy in Kingston, holed up with the Peace Corps volunteers serving there. It was a memorable vacation.

Hiding out with the Peace Corps will probably not be an option should Earl come through the greater Boston area, but with any luck we at least won't be freezing cold (the Embassy was seriously air conditioned).

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What? Where? Who Am I?

I haven't been on the internet in a week. I have no idea what's going on. It's completely disorienting.

However, given there was a ferocious heat wave in Boston while I was gone, I can say that I was able to escape the horrible New England summer by fleeing to Texas.

At least for a little while. I'm back now, and it's humid and gross.

I missed you, Boston. Not that much, but I missed you.

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Play it Cool--But Not Too Cool

Inspired by this Dangerous Intersection post about cost-saving measures in Japan, I would like to take the opportunity to whine about a long-standing peeve of mine: icy-cold interiors in summer.

I am willing to accept that I may need to wear sweaters indoors in the winter. When it's 95 degrees outside, however, I do not really wish to wear a sweater indoors.

I am often faintly annoyed by the fact that I have to remember to carry a sweater or other form of warm outer garment with me when I go out, because you never know when you'll find yourself in a place where the air conditioning is turned down to 65. Sometimes I forget, and then I wind up chilled and shivering. Indoors. In the summer.

I tell you, it's unnatural! Also, it makes me cranky.

In addition, as the (briefly, before I began to whine) referenced post above mentions, it's expensive to chill interior environments to Arctic temperatures. And who can afford to fling money around like confetti in these trying times?

It's in everyone's best interests to let things warm up a bit: this is totally not just something I'm obsessed about because I can't remember to carry a jacket.

Now I'm not arguing for everyone just hanging out and sweating stoically because by gum that's what our hardy ancestors did. They would have leapt on AC if they'd had the chance. In fact they did, as soon as they did have the chance, and here we are. (I like to remind myself that our long-suffering forebears couldn't have been all that wise and noble and virtuous--they produced us, after all.)

But it doesn't have to be actually cold inside, does it? Certainly it doesn't have to be colder inside in the summer than in the winter, which I swear sometimes it is here. It's as if the thermostat is set not so much for a comfortable temperature, as for a certain minimum numbers of degrees' difference from the outside.

I just wish for a little moderation. Surely it can be cool enough inside to keep from crushing the will to live, without being cold enough to immobilize reptiles.

Although that may prove a useful side effect should lizardfolk ever try to invade my place of work on one of its more enthusiastic AC days. And since I am ever wary of the threatening advances of the lizardfolk, I shouldn't overlook this complicating factor in my general temperature-related complaining.

Sunshine, Lollipops and Broken Glass

Another fine day. Sky blue, sun shining, birds singing, flowers blooming, etc. I went out to pick up trash along the Charles River as part of the Charles River Conservancy's annual clean-up. Obvious.

It was a good day to be out. I would like to share the following observations:

• If you smoke, please don't throw your cigarette butts on the ground. It may appear that they just vanish into the grass like magic or something, never to trouble the world again, but believe me, they do not.
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• You can get a decent leg workout hunkering down after a bit of trash, rising, and repeating. Yeah, cleaning up a magnificent natural landmark and public space is OK, but it's really all about my quads!
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• Further along those lines, if you spend some time crouching down picking up bits of broken glass in the sun, and then stand up suddenly, you can get a wicked head rush. It's all about my quads, and a cheap and fleeting high!
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• For some reason, I feel more kindly towards glass debris than towards plastic. Maybe it's that glass will eventually get all worn down and cool-looking, whereas plastic just becomes dingy. So if you must litter, I will be marginally more kindly disposed towards you strewing glass around. As long as I have shoes.
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• I have previously expressed my admiration for Caveat Lector. That admiration is greatly increased by the D&D reference in this post. Love it.

Snowstorm? Whatever

I boldly went to work despite the falling snow. If the trains are running, I reckon I've got no excuse.

The library was actually pretty well populated with studying students, so it was nice that we were open to provide the space.

Since we were shorthanded, I also got to try out some new skills at the circulation desk, which was fun. I think I correctly checked out at least one book, and I'm pretty sure I answered two phone calls to the callers' satisfaction ("are you open?" -- "yes").

I really like having the chance to work on different things. I'm getting to where I feel reasonably comfortable with the day-to-day responsibilities of my own job, but sitting at the circulation desk, reading the manual trying to figure out how to locate and check out a reserve book, instantly made me feel all lively and doubtful again.