The Perfect Storm
They are calling it the storm of the century, epic proportions of snowfall in a matter of 36 hours. It started right as forecasters called it, 10:00am. and continued heavy probably 4 inches or more by 4:30pm. And it kept coming. We could have gone to the grocery store, stocked up on water, juice, milk and propane. But we didn’t. We could have just hunkered down in our living room, popped in some dvd’s, prepared some popcorn and snuggled under some blankets ignoring the accumulating powder outside the windows. But we didn’t. We could have packed some bags, loaded up the family truckster (van) and fled, south to warmer climes. But we didn’t.
So just what did I do to weather the blizzard of ought eight? Well, we did pack some bags, I put on my favorite Hawaiian Shirt and sandals (it’s my passive aggressive way of flipping the bird at the storm), loaded up the family truckster (van) and drove NORTH!!! Into the eye of the storm. That’s right, people. We were only supposed to be getting 8-12″. We went to where they were expecting 12-18″.
And why might you ask would any sane and reasonable person do such a ludicrous thing? Let’s get something straight here, #1) I’m not sane—-or reasonable. B.) No one in my immediate family should ever be considered sane—or reasonable, and #3) THE SHOW MUST GO ON. I called. Unless the governor declares a state of emergency or the mayor says, “Stay in your homes, you idiots!” the show will go on as scheduled.
It’s a Wicked storm, It’s some Wicked snowfall, I’m Wicked crazy, and I’m going to be one of a handful of people stupid enough to drive 3 1/2 hours in a blizzard to see the final weekend performance of the Broadway Tour of Wicked. This had better be a damn good show!
