About ThisAbout Me
Email Me
Bookmark
Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA
« Just Think of the New 'Smilies' We'll Have | Main | Pumped Up, Tapped Out »
Well, that was anticlimatic. Not to mention anticlimatalogical.
My softball team had a game scheduled today. Accordingly, I took the usual precautions. I brought an extra T-shirt and shorts to work. I packed my glove, bat, and sneakers in the car. I had my athletic supporter hermetically glommed onto my nether areas. Standard softball stuff, really.
('Hermetically glommed'. It's a sports term. You could look it up.)
Only, the game never happened. Our softball match, scheduled at five, was pre-empted by an especially nasty summer squall raging through the area late in the workday.
And 'rage' it did. Around four o'clock, we noticed the skies growing dark and ominous. By four-fifteen, we had a lightning display showcase outside our office windows. The sky was as dark as I'd ever seen it before sundown -- inky and dangerous, billowing with malevolent intent.
"You want to see one of those stern sober New England Puritan types completely lose it? Drop a few hailstones on his head, and watch him flail around all higgledy-piggledy."
We heard of tornadoes nearby, and rumors of hail in New Hampshire. Hail! You might as well rain down the frogs and locusts, because we do not know what the hell to do with hail around here. You want to see one of those stern sober New England Puritan types completely lose it? Drop a few hailstones on his head, and watch him flail around all higgledy-piggledy. That Biblical shit freaks their world, man.
Anyway, it was all very impressive from where I was sitting. Except in our neighborhood, it didn't actually rain at all. Not one drop, as far as I could tell. And by five o'clock, you would have never known it happened.
They cancelled our softball game, anyway. We asked why, when teh weather had cleared and the fields were dry. I didn't understand the answer, really. They seemed to be worried the hailstorm would turn around and come back. Something about our softball game 'angering God' and 'incurring the wrath', something something. I've really got to get out of this all-Puritan softball league.
now, here i was expecting someone to have been hit by lightning because of the title. silly me.
a friend of mine, who seems to constantly be coming down with near fatal diseases, wrote a blog last month about getting mildly struck by lightning. in case you're curious: www.deltabob.org
ok, so i tried to stop it posting when i realized i'd put the wrong site. heh. can you delete the first post?
god, i hate looking like a dork.
i hate looking like a dork, and yet i keep acting like one.
*sigh*
the first post was right after all.
![[Subscribe]](/blog/images/subscribe.png)
now, here i was expecting someone to have been hit by lightning because of the title. silly me.
a friend of mine, who seems to constantly be coming down with near fatal diseases, wrote a blog last month about getting mildly struck by lightning. in case you're curious: www.deltabob.com