Frozen pioneer dreams and stranger things

Indiana weather is stupid. It's bad enough to have to suffer from the frigid, windy conditions of the past couple of days. But then to have the temperatures jump by 40 degrees or more in a few days. Torture. Plain and simple. My sinuses will be all screwed up, I just know it.

Sunday was the annual Luminaria in Irvington. But after talking with neighborhood gossips and those-in-power, the general consensus was that it was too frickin' cold to be outside and the winds were too frickin' strong to keep candles lit. A quick survey on Monday showed that the majority of Irvington was in full agreement: this was not a good year to light luminaries.

I suspect that we angered the weather gods by not sacrificing white paper sacks and columns of wax to the fire gods. It was the winter solstice, after all. And winter weather worship was demanded by them. Which is why, right after we put El Presidente to bed, a little after nine last night, the wind took a deep breath and exhaled, causing the electrical power to go out. Suddenly my neighbors and I were sent into the past by about 125 years.

Normally, I'm in the dark, though usually not in this same way. Though the lack of light...and television...was not a real problem. We lit a couple of candles, went upstairs, and got ready for bed. Trying to remove my contact lenses in near darkness wasn't a simple task.

The other problem that we came across was that no power meant no air handler. Ergo, no central heat. We do have gas logs in the living room, so if push came to shove, we would have camped out downstairs. But hoping that the power outage wouldn't last too long, we just threw a couple of extra blankets on and snuggled down for sleep.

As I laid in bed, I started having thoughts about once-upon-a-time with pioneers and the westward movement, log cabins and fire places. I was romanticizing an long gone era that I dreamed to be a simpler and purer time.

Then I realized the third thing that wouldn't run without electricity: my CPAP machine. After almost a year of using that pain-in-the-ass device, I don't sleep well without it. Neither does the lovely wife. Between my snoring and my hot breath in her face, she reminded me of something she requested almost 10 years ago: will you stop breathing!

We had finally fallen asleep. But the dogs woke me up around 1:30 in the morning with their barking. I went downstairs to tell to shut the hell up! Holy crap, was it cold. I took a look at the thermostat. It was 57 degrees inside. Four hours of no heat in an old house with no insulation with wintery weather with no mercy caused a fifteen degree drop.

I looked outside. Everything was weirdly dark. No porch lights. No street lights. Just an occasional candle or flashlight seen through neighboring windows. The only light that could be seen for blocks around was the eerie glow that came from the downtown Indianapolis night pollution bouncing off the bottom of the clouds. If it were a perfectly clear night, I'm guessing things would be even darker.

When I next awoke, it was about 3:30 and the power was back on. El Presidente, who is still sick and not resting well, woke us up. The lovely wife, being the wonderful woman that she is, got up with him while I slept for another hour. I was going to work out in the morning, despite the cold which would surely freeze my nipples off.

By the way, I was wrong. Only my right nipple froze off. I'm hoping the doctors will be to reattach it.

In my office, I asked a fellow architect who lived a few blocks away about the power outage. When he left for work, his power was still out and it was 45 degrees in his house.

A buddy of mine traveled to the Twin Cities to spend the holidays at his in-laws. He texted me that it was -12 this morning and it never got about zero.

So feel free to point out how things could have been worst. But at some point cold is just cold no matter how frickin' cold it gets.

Needless to say, our conversations are a little...different.

The Cardiac Colts had me all wound up after the game last night, so the lovely wife and I watched some TV before heading to bed. I saw that the Bob and Tom TV show was on. I have never seen their new show, so I turned it over to channel 4. Basically, it is their radio show... on TV. I don't know what exactly I was expecting.

After watching them in standard def for a few minutes, I was pondering if they were broadcasting in HD as well. So I changed it over and sure enough, they are in HD. How unfortunate. It is no wonder that people are getting botox like it is going out of style. HD shows every blemish and wrinkle. Not hiding it like on standard definition.

I commented to the lovely wife about the bags under Tom's eyes and the creases around Kristy Lee's mouth. No big surprise, they have been on the Indy radio airwaves for 10 million years; they are bound to show some age.

The lovely wife wanted to make a comment about how she never understood guys that thought that Kristy Lee was hot. So what she tried to start saying was "I remember when I first saw her. Period."

Except is came out as "I remember when I first saw her period."

I about busted out laughing when the lovely wife then accidentally dropped a box of donuts that she had been holding in her hand. I'm assuming she was frustrated about the inability to communicate or carry donuts, because she immediately vacated the living room.

After cleaning up her mess, I went to the kitchen where she was drinking a class of water. I looked at her and said:

"Two things. First, you would make a lousy Dunkin' Donuts spokesperson because it's 'Time to make the donuts' not 'Time to drop the donuts.'

"Second, about what you just said in there..."

At which point she did a spit take. I didn't have to finish my statement for her to know exactly what I was going to say. She had hoped that I had not noticed her statement about observing Kristy Lee's first menstruation. But I had. And I wasn't about to let it go.

When I someday write my memoirs of living with the lovely wife, I believe it will be titled "When I first saw her period." Though I suspect it is not as funny written down as it was live and in person.

Merry Miscellanemas

The lovely wife and I spent different moments last night dealing with a delirious El Presidente who was very feverish. I blame Chris and Colleen who claimed that their kids "only had a cold". I'm not certain what we ever did to deserve this biological warfare that they unleashed upon us. All I have to say to them is this: It's On Bitches!

The biggest issue now is what will happen tomorrow evening if he is still sick. The three of us are suppose to go the ISO Yuletide Celebration tomorrow night. We're now scrambling to figure out back-up plans.

Christmas cards have been pouring in to Four Square No. 266. My favorite so far isn't a Christmas card. Kudos to Jim for mailing me my first ever Hanukkah card. Not only that, but it includes a latke recipe, which for those not in the know, latkes are shredded potato goodness that is a eight times better than any hash brown you'll ever have. Happy Hanukkah, Jim!

I cleaned out the garage so that we can park our vehicles in there. This means that El Presidente's drum set came inside. I wonder how long it will be before he discovers it in the guest room.

Is the economy in the tank or what? I received notice at work that we won't be getting any pay raises this next year. And I'm thrilled. You know the economy stinks when you are just happy to be employed.

But things are looking up in my neighborhood. Audubon Court apartments, a long vacant historic apartment complex, is being renovated and reopened. The BP station that closed is close to reopening. The Indy East motel will be closing by the end of the year. And the Irving Theater is having a big bash of bands on Friday. Things are looking lively over here.

Colts have been thrilling. Thumbs up there. The Tribune, which owns the Cubs, declared bankruptcy. Thumbs down there. Hot stove action on Chicago's northside will be less than spectacular, I think.

Speaking of Chicago, outdoor hockey at Wrigley Field on New Year's Day. How cool is that?

Tomorrow is the office holiday lunch. I had the honor (my boss "volunteered" me) to organize it. I think it should be fun, but we'll see. It could be disastrous.

I'm thinking about switching from DirecTV to AT&T U-verse. Not because I have problems with DirecTV, but AT&T will give me a HD DVR that can record 4 shows at a time, plus $200 cash back. What's not to like? Anybody have any AT&T U-verse complaints?

I've had prime rib and crab legs on my mind. I have expensive tastes.

I like a good cup of coffee. My office, unfortunately, does not have a good cup of coffee. We brew cheap coffee. It taste likes ass juice.

I have a potential high profile project at work. I'm hoping it happens. I'm really excited about this possibility. I'm hoping the economy doesn't squash this project.

And it should be no surprise to regular readers that I am tired of the cold weather. I'm ready for spring.

Cold Weather + Cheap Gas = Bad Jason

I don't know about where you live, but it has been pretty darn cold in Irvington. I dislike the cold so much that I suspended commuting by city bus in favor of a quicker and much warmer commute via the Unlucky Unitas (my pickup truck). The Democrat in me feels bad for leaving a larger carbon footprint. The Republican in me tells the Democrat in me to SUCK IT!

It also helps that the price at the pump is so low right now. Again the Democrat in me knows that the lower gas prices are bad for the future of fuel efficient vehicles and public transportation. But the Republican in me is yelling YEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAW! DRIVE, BABY, DRIVE!

Stupidest. Weekend. Ever.

Ever since entering the 9-to-5 workforce, the "holiday weekend" has become one of those treasured items that I look forward to much like a child does a gift at Christmas. Memorial Day, Labor Day. Added bonus if the Fourth or Christmas or New Year's lands on a Monday or Friday.

But the big daddy of them all is, of course, Thanksgiving. One day off for massive consumption of calories followed by three days off for a full recovery. We decided to go down to Columbus for Turkey Day and spend the balance of the weekend at Four Square No. 266. I like a long weekend where I get to sleep in my own bed.

Thursday went well. Pretty standard as far as Thanksgivings go. Lots of family. Lots of food. Lots of football. We took a cheese and meat platter for pre-dinner snacking. People would partake but left plenty for us to take home with us. We will probably reduce the amount we bring next time. That was the low-light of the day, and that wasn't really a low-light at all.

Friday we decided not to go crazy with the other up-at-4-am-shopping crazies. Besides, the only items we were really interested in were on sale all weekend, so we had plenty of time. Or so we thought. Just because an item is advertised as a 2 day or 3 day sale item, it don't mean crap if they sell out by 7am on Friday. Stupid me, thinking they would have plenty in stock. Thanks for lulling me into a false sense of security Target and Menard's. Feeling rejected, we returned home. I spent the evening decorating the Four Square and snacking on meat and cheese leftovers.

Saturday I woke up feeling less than holly jolly. In fact, the stomach ache told me that the weekend I looked forward to would be one I would regret. After visiting with the Ghost of Thanksgiving Leftovers Past, I determined that perhaps snacking on meats and cheeses that sat out on my parents' kitchen table for hours on Thursday was not one of my brighter moments. I love the taste of summer sausage. Having had to "taste" it again on Saturday, I won't be looking forward to tasting summer sausage again for a while. Stupid, Jason.

Sunday I woke up feeling a better. Well enough to go to Sunday mass and watch the defensive powerhouses of Cleveland and Indianapolis battle it out for a 10-6 Colts victory. Seriously, was that not the Stupidest. Game. Ever. ? Yes, I'm happy that the Colts won, but what a stinky game. Apparently, my stomach agreed. I ended up "tasting" the summer sausage again after the game.

So much of my weekend was lost to stupid sickness. But at least I was home for it. But why can't I get sick on a stupid workday? I don't want to waste my weekends in the stupid bathroom. What a stupid holiday weekend.