Storm Chaser Terminology

We, here in Arkansas, have just come through an entire week of the most violent weather I’ve ever seen.  For nearly six days, one supercell after another lined up and traveled across our fair state.  As a result, we’ve spent an inordinate amount of time glued to the television, listening to the various weather reports, watches, and warnings that have been issued.  In fact, we’ve watched so much TV that we can now knowledgably comment on the weatherman’s entire wardrobe as well as the pros and cons of his daily tie choices. 

Along the way, we’ve also picked up quite a bit of Storm Chaser Terminology, and I’d like to take this time to define these terms the best way I know how.  I am NOT a meteorologist; I have simply used my common knowledge to cipher their meaning.  So without further ado, here they are:

-A-

Accessory Cloud – A cloud that has aided or abetted a criminal cloud.

-B-

Backing Winds – Winds moving in the forward direction can be dangerous enough.  They become even more so when backing up.  This is due to the fact that winds don’t have rear view mirrors, and even if they did, they likely wouldn’t use them.  Remember, it’s your responsibility, as a pedestrian, to watch out for backing winds.

Bear's Cage – [Slang], this is NOT a place you want to be when a storm hits.  Thunder is generally known to make bears cranky, and cranky bears are not cuddly bears.

Bow Echo – As best I can tell, this is a measure of how loud the winds are.  If you can hear the twang of a bow, and it echoes, then the winds aren’t blowing very hard.  However, the louder the winds, the harder it is to hear a bow echo.

-C-

Cell – This is the device that mobile storm chasers use to call in to the local weather station with.  It’s important to remember that the more severe the storm, the more likely their call to the weather center will be dropped…or it might just be that they’re on the AT&T network.

Convergence – The opposite of Divergence.

-D-

Dew Point – The point at which the weatherman has been awake so long that he can’t function without the smooth taste and instant caffeine rush of a Mountain Dew.

Directional Shear – This is some sort of gardening tool.  I really don’t know what his has to do with weather.

Divergence – The opposite of Convergence.

Dry Line – A dance, somewhat similar to a Congo Line, in which a group of Native Americans try to repent of an earlier Rain Dance that they may have called for.

Dry-line Bulge – A rather large person dancing in the Dry Line.

Dry-line Storm – The Dry Line did not work, and the Rain Dance continues to remain in effect.

Dust Devil – A small, handheld vacuum cleaner the weatherman uses to clean Cheeto dust off his lapels before going on camera.

-F-

Feeder Bands – Every band needs a first gig, and every weather center needs a cool jingle.  It’s a match made in Heaven.

Fujita Scale (or F Scale) – A scale that measures the general worthiness of user uploaded pictures for weather reports {most of these pics are of hail or freaky looking clouds}:

F0: Unusable image quality.

F1: Picture content barely visible, still unusable.

F2: Clear, but poorly lit image.

F3: Clean image.

F4: Crisp, quality image.

F5: Professional grade shot.

-H-

Hook – [Slang], clearly a reference to Captain James Hook of Peter Pan.  Used to indicate nasty, foul, pirate-like weather.

-I-

Impulse – Highest speed that a Star Fleet vessel can travel before going to warp.  I still can’t figure out what this has to do with weather.

Instability – The mental state that a weatherman reaches after five sleepless days of reporting on storms.

Inversion – The weather does exactly the opposite of what the weatherman just said it would do.

-M-

Microburst – One millionth of a burst.

Multi-cell Thunderstorm – A really long storm system that requires a vast horde of storm chasers to deploy along it.  They will use multiple cellular phones to keep in touch.

-N-

NOAA – A nod of respect given to the guy that endured the first recorded storm in history.

-R-

Radial Velocity – The speed at which a storm chaser’s tires move once he realizes the tornado he was watching has turned onto an intercept path with his vehicle.

-S-

Severe Thunderstorm – An alternate way to say ‘Tuesday.’

Supercell – Alternate name for an iPhone.

-W-

Wall Cloud – Like a wall, this type of cloud is so thick that you can’t see through it.  In my opinion, this describes most clouds.

Of Ninjas and Pirates

For those of you who are interested, Proctor & Gamble did respond back to my offer of field testing their Fusion razors.  You can find it here at the bottom of the original post.

It’s every parent’s nightmare.  “How can my son be choosing a life so diametrically opposed to what I believe?”

Some might say I’m overreacting or that it’s way too early to tell, but I disagree.  Since 2001, it’s been firmly established that all people fall into one of two camps.  You either believe in the superiority of Pirates or of Ninjas.

From the early 80s, I knew that the Ninja ruled in all matters of stealth and lethality.  Through much research (copious amounts of Kung Fu Theater), I determined that the path of the Shinobi was where I would walk.  Sensei Rush began my formal training by working to deaden various pressure points on my body.  It hurt, but I didn’t complain.  Ninjas don’t whine.  In fact, they don’t really make much noise at all.  Later, we started working on basic blocks and attacks, which now seem frighteningly similar to Mr. Miagi’s training of young Daniel san.  But, alas, my training trailed off, as it’s extremely hard to teach a 10 year old how to strike from the shadows when he has to be home and washed up for dinner by 5 pm.  Despite that small hindrance, I became very adept at wearing a black hood and running through the woods in broad daylight.

Now, many years later, I’m becoming increasingly aware that my eldest son is choosing the way of the Pirate.  The evidence is overwhelming.  For two Halloweens in a row, he chose the pirate costume.  At first, I was willing to overlook it, because he’s so young…but there’s more.  On St. Patrick’s day, I began to probe the issue a little bit, and the following conversation happened around the dinner table:

Griffin:  During naptime at school, the leprechauns came and gave us two pieces of candy!

Me:  You saw leprechauns?

Griffin:  No, they’re so small that you can’t see them.

Me:  So, you didn’t see who gave you the candy?

Griffin:  No.

Me:  How do you know it was a leprechaun?  It could have been a ninja.

Griffin {matter of factly}:  Daddy, ninjas aren’t real.  Just because they have Ninja Warrior on TV doesn’t mean there are ninjas.

Like a shuriken through the heart.  But what can I say?  Ninjas strive to stay out of the spotlight while those unwashed, boisterous Pirates exploit it.  Disney Corporation is the biggest sinner of them all when it comes to influencing children toward one side!  They start our kids out on Jake and the Neverland Pirates before they’re even potty trained.  And, honestly, how many Pirates of the Caribbean movies are they going to make?!?

I strive to continue my subtle steering of his young mind, but my efforts have continually been met with failure.  This conversation happened in the last couple of weeks:

Griffin:  Daddy did you get me these gloves?

My son...in pirate gear

Me:  You didn’t see who brought them?

Griffin:  No.

Me:  Maybe it was a Gardening Ninja.

Griffin:  Daddy, ninjas aren’t real.  Was it Mommy?

Did you see how he so easily dismissed the notion of a ninja that might be interested in gardening?  It breaks my heart.

So, here I am, a parent firmly in the ninja camp, doing his best to raise a disciple of the pirate camp.  I don’t see how it can work.  Is there maybe a pirate out there trying to raise a ninja that would be willing to trade children?  Failing that, maybe they’d just be willing to give some advice.  I sure could use it.

He's Awive

Easter Morning I was lucky enough to be in the vicinity of the kitchen as my two boys were having breakfast and talking.  And I’m glad I was, because it was one of those priceless experiences where I could say, “Ahh, they are getting it.” 

As I was sitting on the couch, feeding Haven, I heard Griffin start out:

“Gage, do you know what it means when we have Easter eggs?  It means that Jesus died on the cross.”

The little brother stretched his hands up high and added, “On the tall cwoss!”

Griffin continued, “Yeah, and they gave him a hat of thorns and then he died.”

There was silence for a few seconds while they both took a bite of cereal, then Griffin finished up by saying, “But that’s OK, ‘cause after they put Him in the tomb, He arose!”

At hearing this, Gage threw his arms in the air again and shouted, “He’s Awive!”

It does this parent’s heart so much good to hear that the children are retaining what we are teaching them.  One of my greatest fears in life is that some shortcoming on my part will prevent them from having a relationship with God.  I fear that I’ll miss teaching them something and because of it a greater influence will come into their life and lead them in the wrong direction.  I’ve seen it happen.  I’ve had close friends turn away from their faith, and I’ve seen them live their consequences.  I’ve even made choices in my own life that ran contrary to what I believe, and experienced the bitter results first hand.  The life of spiritual abandon has a smooth, glassy surface to it, but it’s a mere shell to the madness and loneliness that lies waiting on the other side.  Undeniably, there is a large measure of entertainment to that life, but there is no joy.  Apart from Jesus Christ, there is no sense of fulfillment.  Many have tried to fill it with other things, but that emptiness is impossible for us, as humans, to sate.

It seems kind of funny that faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus is our way to a loving relationship with the God who created this Universe.  But maybe it’s not really so funny after all.  We all eventually put our faith in something, whether it’s government to save us from a financial crisis, or science to explain the origin and progression of life, or religion to fill this need for something to worship and give us meaning.  At one point or another, we believe in something even though we don’t have all the facts.

If you’re looking for what to believe in, let me suggest something that has proven to make a difference in the lives of those who truly accept it.  That the sin in your life has separated you from the God that created you, yet He loved you so much that He sent His son to die in your place.  If you can believe that Jesus paid the price for your sin and then as a sinless sacrifice He overcame death, then you can have that fulfilling relationship with your creator.

Jesus paid it all.  All to Him I owe.  Sin had left a crimson stain; He washed it white as snow…

Wake UP

Michael Shanan Thomas, 35, of Greenwood entered into rest on Thursday, April 7, 2011, at his home in Greenwood. He was born July 6, 1975, in Fort Smith. He passed away due to complications from a misguided attempt at waking his sleeping wife with an ice cold, frozen washcloth.  His body was cremated on the spot.

Yes, this is the obituary I imagined would be printed if I had followed through on my ill-conceived plan.  That being said, sometimes it is a struggle for me to nicely and effectively get either Tamara or Griffin completely awake.  Without a doubt, they are heavy sleepers, but my issue is mostly due to the fact that I'm a light sleeper and also quite short on empathy. 

How a person can sleep through ten minutes of a dog whining in their ear is beyond my ability to comprehend.  And even more so, how can a little boy, snoozing no more than 10 feet from a weather radio, sleep through all the thunder, wind, and warning messages of the biggest storm we’ve seen in years?  I don’t know, but it’s possible.

On some mornings, I’ve literally rolled his head and then his entire body back and forth to try and jostle him into consciousness.  It takes steady attention for about five minutes to get him coaxed awake to the point that he won’t turn over and drift off again.  This is quite frustrating for me, as a morning person.  When the alarm goes off, you’re immediately supposed to hop out of bed and begin shining.  People who refuse to wake up in a timely manner tend to damage my morning calm, and that’s why I’m considering new techniques for rousing the sleeping masses.

I have already established that loud noises do nothing for Griffin.  I’d garner more exciting results by walking outside and yelling at the tomato plants.  I’m not saying that talking does absolutely nothing, but why yell if you don’t need to.  It only excites the dog.

Gently rolling the body from side to side eventually works, though by the time I notice any appreciable change, I’m ready to drag him off the top bunk by his toes.  There must be a faster way to get results.

I mentioned the possibility of using an ice-cold wash cloth at the beginning of this post.  This is most easily done by taking a wet cloth and throwing it in the freezer the night before.  The next morning, the material should be sufficiently chilled as to offset the comfort of a warm cozy bed.  Now, while I would expect this technique to work on my wife, with explosive results, I have to admit that I have my doubts about its effectiveness on my son.  He’s a master at shrugging off the small, inconsequential distractions to his sleep.  He would simply slide sideways until contact with the frigid fabric was broken, and then he’d be free to snooze again.

For this reason, I believe the ultimate weapon in the war on slow risers is…marbles.  But not just any marbles; frozen marbles.  Think about it!  They would have the same shock value as the frozen wash cloth, yet they could not be escaped.  Everywhere the body goes on the bed will cause the marbles to roll towards it and continue their work of encouraging him to flee the bed.

The solution is clear; though I’m not sure could bring myself to use it.  I have to admit, it seems a little cruel.  It is good to know, however, that I have this sort of ammunition in the arsenal just in case it’s ever warranted.

The Best A Man Can Get

Dear Gillette,

Let me start by saying I’ve been a long time fan of the Fusion razor.  It is my opinion that an electric razor is merely capable of knocking the edge off a scraggly face, but to truly get the job done right a razor blade must be used.  And when you take that simple razor and quintuple the blades, you quintuple the shaving power!  It almost makes me wonder what six side-by-side blades could do.

Anyway, just the other day, I was going through my shaving journal and realized that I have been exclusively using the Fusion for more than a year.  But even more fascinating than that, I ran across another interesting detail.  There seems to be a noticeable disparity in the longevity of the blades.

I couldn’t believe it myself, but the numbers support what I’m seeing.  Out of a standard four-pack blade refill, each individual refill has a different lifespan.  The average shaving duration, in weeks, goes something like this:

Blade Refill #1 – 2 weeks

Blade Refill #2 – 2 weeks

Blade Refill #3 – 3.5 weeks

Blade Refill #4 – 19 weeks

Had the fourth refill been off by a week or two, it would have been easily dismissed, but nineteen weeks is hard to overlook.  It seems like it would be more advantageous for your company if every blade lasted for only two weeks.  In that case, the shaver would need to purchase his refills every couple of months.  So, it escapes me why that impressive fourth blade is allowed to showcase the level of quality your company can achieve.

You might be tempted to think that it was a one-time fluke, however I have noticed that it happens with every single four-pack that I buy.  Now that I’ve established that it’s a real phenomenon, I have so many more unanswered questions.  For instance, is it the same blade every time?  I tend to be a top down kind of guy, meaning that I always use the razor oriented at the curved section of the refill first.  What if I started with the bottom razor, would it last for nineteen weeks even though I’m using it first?

There’s so much more experimentation that I’d like to do, and I think your quality control department could greatly benefit from my findings.  That’s why I would like to propose that you send some cases of refills so I could continue my work.  Any help you would like to give would be appreciated, but I believe thirty packets would be good enough for us to establish some sort of statistical significance.

I look forward to sharing the results with you.

Sincerely,

Michael Thomas

**** UPDATE ****

I received this e-mail reply, in which my research offer was politely turned down

:

Hello Michael,

Thank you so much for taking the time and sending us an email about your shaving experiences.  I will be happy to send your comments along to our quality team.  Unfortunately our quality team has their own experiments and data that they go by, but we appreciate all of our consumer's feedback.  As a goodwill gesture I'll be more than happy to send you a coupon for your next purchase of Fusion cartridges.  If you have further questions or comments please contact us back.

Thank you,

Sarah
Fusion Team

.

.

They did, in fact, send a coupon for $5 off on a cartridge refill, as well as two other Proctor and Gamble coupons.

Moooooo!!

Well, the school nurse called.  Nothing really serious this time, no scuffle in the bathroom, no chair ripped from underneath him while he sat down.  No, this time he was simply eating weeds on the playground and she thought we ought to know, in case he got sick.

The entire story is that my son’s class went to the playground at snack time and found a group of plants that bore a small resemblance to broccoli.  As a game, they thought it would be fun to play like they were eating it.  Somewhere in Griffin’s brain, two neurons fired and he decided, “Hey, it would probably be cool if I actually ate this!”  So, that’s exactly what he did.

This is somewhat of a recurring theme with my eldest.  For all his caution at physical activities, he’s completely reckless when it comes to stuffing green leafy things in his mouth.  From a young age he’s always enjoyed salads, and it was never uncommon for us to bribe him with a second serving of salad if he would just clean the rest of his plate up at dinner time. 

Fresh garden vegetables are quite literally his favorite thing to eat.  However, he doesn’t seem to confine himself to the makings of a spring mix.  A short list of things we know he’s grazed on include grass, liriope berries, honey suckle (though instead of simply eating the drop of nectar, he chewed the whole flower), and this, as of yet, unidentified schoolyard weed.  Only God knows what he’s eaten and we haven’t found out about.

It doesn’t take a far stretch of the imagination to see him getting a hold of something poisonous if he continues down this path.  It seems like every spring some incident requires that we have to have the same conversation, “Don’t eat anything out here unless daddy tells you it’s OK, and don’t even touch the mushrooms.”

“OK, Daddy.  I won’t.”

“I’m serious; some of this stuff can kill you.”

“OK, Daddy.”

In spite of what he says, I’m not really comforted by the fact that he agrees with me.  I know the dangerous chance he takes when he eats something out in the wild.  I know that the consequences of eating stuff in our backyard can range from a mild tummy ache to seizures to death.  I do my best to destroy polk salad and mushrooms every time they crop up, but they both grow fast, and are extremely dangerous.

I wish he would just listen.  I’m not trying to keep him from having fun; there are plenty of fun activities that won’t end up hurting him.  I’m not trying to keep him from eating something yummy.  We have all the good food he needs or could want.  I’m only trying to keep him safe.

As I write this, it makes me stop and think that God, himself, might have the same thoughts about me sometimes.  “I wish he would just listen…I know what dangers are ahead…I’m only trying to keep him safe.”

Maybe father and son both need to pay better attention.