Thoughts on Thunderstorms

The weatherman is a pathological liar. We all know that he's able to control the weather, that's why they make so much money. However, they still enjoy saying one thing and letting something else happen. For example, today we were supposed to be taking cover from a series of fronts rolling through this region. Thunder, lightning, rain, falling branches, biblical floods, the whole thing. However, a cursory glance out of a nearby window reveals partially sunny skies and a mild wind. Nothing apocalyptic about that. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining in anyway. I'm a big fan of not losing my house to water damage, believe me, I am. But this dang humidity is seriously driving me insane. I stepped out of a shower this morning, and immediately regretted it. It was so humid outside, after the few steps to my car, I felt like I was Aqua~man, under the ocean (except I couldn't talk to sea creatures, if I could do that, I wouldn't be blogging).

Now, as most people with a general knowledge of weather know, any good sized storm always relieves humidity for a few days afterwards. I was looking forward to this break in the slimy atmosphere of the tri-state area for at least a little while, but now I'm stuck in my house next to my air conditioner.

There's another reason I love thunderstorms. As a small youngling, I used to observe the terrifyingly dramatic thunderstorms from my aunt's garage. I used to sit in a large cardboard box with my brother with he garage door open, sucking on popsicles, and watching people lose power. It was one of those habitual experiences that defines the way I saw the world. I learned so many important lessons from those thunderstorm observation sessions. For example, I learned the electricity can kill you (Andrew if you even think about stepping out of this garage, I'll stick you in the bathroom with a can of ammonia and let you figure out how to make it shine).

So thunderstorms have always held a special spot near my cynical heart.