I am OUTRAGED by the weather in Anchorage. The weather forecasters demanded we stay in tonight when we could have been partying with cake and ice cream and such at our local soda fountain.This morning, the Safeway cashiers asked customers if they found all their emergency supplies. My friend Mariyam moved her birthday celebration up from 5 pm to noon so as not to kill her friends in dangerous travel conditions. An email was sent out from the powers that be at work advising us to be careful but DO come in to work on Monday, unless otherwise advised on facebook, (which we are not allowed to look at and would probably be unavailable if the internet was down.)
I bought three cans of tuna, raw cookie dough and some long matches, hoping to be surrounded by saltiness, sweetness, fire and perhaps some rain., definitely some wind – windy wind with scary noises. Instead, we have my roommate moving out mattresses on top of his car with not even a slight movement of leaves or bedding. It’s maddening to have been fooled by the media yet again.
This reminds me of a very bad/good forecast in the early 1980’s. It was the year that Billy Jean came out. My friend Lynne had an apartment in Lynn, MA with an antique love seat which was designed to eject the human buttocks onto the floor or perhaps the nearest bed in an effort to make love not war. I was warned not to visit her that night but there was no sight of a long predicted storm. I took a chance and it being the 1980’s, I brought a six pack of beer which came in handy when I slid on some ice and donated two cans (classy!) to a gentleman who helped me get out of a snowbank. Lynne and I went to a movie in Revere taking Lynne’s car, a very nice old Mustang. It was a long movie, as most of them were in those days when we got our money’s worth of towering infernos, Poseidon adventures and Billy Jacks. There were very few people in the theater but I believe the film was pretty good as I was not thinking about the weather at all. Maybe I just worried less back then. Maybe I was just dumber. At any rate, when the twelve or so of us opened the side door of the theater which led directly to the parking lot there were no automobiles, just small bumps in a field of snow. About 18 of the predicted 24 inches of snow had fallen and had drifted in the amazingly chilling wind.
Somehow we got the Mustang out and spinning onto route 1A. We didn’t get very far, way too many rotaries with way too much spinning and no road really to be seen. We heard Billy Jean for first time in the car. I thought it was a pretty neat song. The Mustang wound up on the grass and we started thumbing our way back to Lynne’s. A large tankish machine full of Revere rollerskaters picked us up and deposited us as near as possible to our destination. It was lucky that Lynne was blonde.
We spent the evening laughing, hearing Billy Jean over and over on the radio which also informed me that there was no hope of returning home that evening. We finally went to sleep after Lynne had enough of my Michael Jackson imitation. The next day we found I had left my window open a few inches when giving out the beer so there was a sizable drift in the front seat. The Mustang looked like it had been pushed way over onto a field of grass by a snow plow but was remarkably undamaged, probably some helpful snowplow driving car nut had pity on it.
Apparently this is doomed to be my favorite storm story, besides the yurt night of horror this spring. Tonight, I can hear no chaos, no wildness, only the peace of people at home watching Netflicks. Why did I move to Alaska? Not to spend a quiet evening at home! Where are all those elements I wanted to battle? My guess is that they are inside me – Potassium, magnesium, all the calmness elements I lack. I want weather to make everyone as crazy as I am. I’m going to stay up all night until I hear some wind.