Getting Olde Timey

The city of Saint Louis has long had a motto regarding the complexity of it's ever changing weather : "Welcome to St Louis... If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes."

I have tried countless times to have the motto changed to : "Welcome to St Louis... If you don't like the weather, go fuck yourself" but it just will not stink.

The weather pattern last night changed (literally) in a blink of an eye from "brutally hot and sunny" to "Armageddon." And it fucking rocked.

The apartment lost power around 7 and The Lady Friend and I sat through World War VII (or whatever the hell number the hippies say we're up to now) until about 8. After the lightning subdued a little, we decided to escape the stuffy humidity of our apartment and take a walk through the ravaged streets of Dogtown.

Around our 'hood there were cars smashed up by tree limbs everywhere. Whole trees had been knocked over. Purportedly a roof had blown off of someone's house and landed on a car. It was kind of awesome, mainly because my car was fine and my roof was still intact.

(Although, if my car was totaled, I would have no problem accepting that insurance check. Stupid insurance. It's like gambling, except there is no chance you'll ever win. Even if you do get the money, it means something bad had to happen first.)

We went back to the apartment and threw some steak and veggies on the grill and listened to the ballgame on the radio. Later, we ate dinner by candlelight. And if it wasn't for the lack of a fan, I can honestly say that I did not miss any of our "modern" conveniences.

Computer didn't work? Whoop-e-dee shit, I sit in front of one for 8 hours at work. No TV? TV sucks now anyway. Electric lights? We had candles and in my opinion, candles (much like Jesus is to the Doobie Brothers) are alright with me.

Basically, what I am trying to get at is that I don't need your modern conformist traps, America. I don’t need your moderninity. I can live straight-up 1919 style and get by just fine, thank you very much.

(Note - that last paragraph is a complete lie. I actually had like 27 different text conversations going on my cell and I ended up pulling some of my own hair out and crying because I couldn't see real-time updates of my fantasy team last night. I need moderninity. I need it bad. Also, I’m pretty sure they had electricity in 1919.)

What I am willing to say (honestly) is that I am glad that I work nights, otherwise I would have drank every beer in my refrigerator last night in an effort to prevent them from becoming "skunky" and I would have one whale of a hangover in the morning. So I'm glad that's working out for me.

(Note-that was I lie too. Hangover, shmangover, I would kill an Eskimo hooker for a beer right now.)

(Do Eskimos have hookers? Discuss.)


Update (5:42 am) - And now I get an e-mail saying my company's other 7,000 employees get the day off today becasue there's "no power?" And yet I sit here at my generator-powered computer all fucking night? Balderdash!

I'm drinking me some day pints in the summer sizzle today and playing some hookey tomorrow night. Who's with me, St Louis? I'm not letting those beers get skanky.

Not on my watch!

(Wait... I'm not wearing a watch. Who the... Where am I?)

this job is gettin to you, sir.
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