Driving I-95 S. With Bombogenesis.

~ Live & Learn

electrical-cord-face

6:10 am.

The digital read-out on the dash flickers + 22 F.

Where’s the  “+”?

It’s dark, and cold, and the day opened with the media blaring: ‘Bombogenesis‘: Northeast Blizzard “Juno” Will Be Fueled By Dramatic Pressure Drop. This is followed with a pre-recorded, public service announcement of impending doom:

This is an important winter storm advisory. A blizzard warning is in effect for the State of Connecticut.  It is predicted to bring high winds gusting up to 60 miles per hour.  Snow accumulation of 20 to 30 inches is expected.  Coastal flooding and high tides are anticipated. Widespread and long duration power outages are expected.  Utility crews are prohibited from engaging in repair work until the end of the storm.  There will be a travel ban at 9pm this evening.

In 1973, the ’63 GMC Short-Bed Step-Side was outfitted with a block heater. A three-pronged electrical cord dangled from the grill and was plugged in overnight. On most frigid British Columbia mornings, this would be enough to crank up the Chevy after three or four turns and get us to hockey practice.

40 years later, my ignition fires on the first pull, with no dangling cords hanging from the grill.  The Gratitude Bus is rolling.

I pull out and accelerate onto I-95.  The highway is clear and dry. I’m flowing with traffic.  My Ólafur Arnalds’ playlist lands on “Undan Hulu.”  I have no idea what Undan Hulu (Icelandic) means but the Cello solo hits a sweet spot.  I hit replay, replay and replay in my Monday morning meditation.

Yet, there is no mistaking the dark streak darting in and out of Arnalds’ Cello solo.

SK: We should get a generator.
DK: We don’t need a generator.
SK:  We’ve had 2 long-term power outages in the last 2 years.
DK: There’s no chance we’ll be in the dark three years running.
SK: OK, but this time it’s on you.
SK: I will NOT go begging our neighbors for help.
SK: YOU will be the one carrying the 5 gallon gas can and the electrical extension cord to plug into their generator.
DK: Why don’t you relax?

I arrive at the office and plug Undan Hulu in Google Translate. There is no Icelandic translation.

I then enter Hulu. The translation is “Hulu” in English. I search Hulu in Webster’s and find that the “word is not found in the dictionary.”

I enter “Undan” and Translate guides me to the Swedish to English word translation: “Escape.”

Undan Hulu.

About right. Escape to Nowhere.

Notes:

30 thoughts on “Driving I-95 S. With Bombogenesis.”

  1. At this point its so good to get to where you need to be!
    Listen to the call of the generator …. It willbring you to your middle ground and comfort your worrying ego!
    If not for this time, then down the road!
    Xo

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      1. Well first off Mr Grumpy Dwarf! Please forgive me for the spelling incorrection, the sun is very bright, very warm and extremely beautiful here and could indeed be the cause for my blurred vision 🙂 And yes, so far I have been very lucky not to be viciously attacked by a Great White Shark, but Im sure you are secretly hoping I will, as I swim in these warm tropical waters! Laughing 🙂

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  8. I’ll second that emotion, pal. After two, 10-day (no, that’s not a typo) outages in pretty rapid succession, we cried ‘uncle’ and got the whole-house version that springs to life automatically, 8-seconds after we lose power. Best. Decision. Ever.

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  9. Yes, I will jump on the “get the generator” band wagon. After Hurricane Wilma (two weeks without power), we bought a generator. To date, we haven’t had the need to use it (THANK GOODNESS!!!!), yet, it is here, in case.

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  10. My MW doesn’t believe the weather forecasts- but occasionally, he will decide there’s a real storm brewing. He likes it when we are on the brink of disaster. It’s that “man-make-fire!!!!” thing. There’s something about hunkering down for a total shut-down. He makes an inventory of the stored gallons of water, the matches, the candles, and the flashlights, and double checks to be sure we have plenty of wood on the pile and Dinty Moore stew ready to cook in the can. When the first real ice storm locked us in- and there was no way to blow the hot air out from around the wood stove- a small, rusty generator got added to the pile of emergency provisions. It chugs loud and stinky just outside the back door, and manages to supply power to the fan for the wood stove, the refrigerator, as well as a few lights. We can even a use a TV now and then so we can see the apocalyptic events unfolding all around us. This CW is with SK- and we have scarcely had a whisper of snow.

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