ARMAGEDDON AND APPLIANCES

Post-storm picture

When we were little, every time there was a thunderstorm, my parents made us go around and unplug stuff, like televisions and stereos.  We thought they were nuts until our house got hit.  We took two more hits, as well, all within a three week time period, including one strike that missed a giant propane tank by less than twelve inches.

This is why to this day I am terrified to be in a house during a thunderstorm.  I'll get in my car and drive right through one for fun, and I'll sit in a restaurant or store and watch the storm through the windows, but no way will I be in a house, or, god forbid, outside during a storm.

Tuck that information into your brain for a moment and consider this, instead.

Saturday I finally get a new washer and dryer.  My dryer had been squawking for over a year, and my washer recently stopped randomly between cycles just because, so it is serendipitous that they both croak at the same time.

I am in the midst of doing catch-up laundry with the new machines and working on a giant basement purge (long overdue) when my son texts me from the road: "Storms coming.  We just drove through what looked like Jumanji."

Shit.  Damn. Piss. Fuck.

I go look at the radar and it looks like Armageddon.  The storm front is well over one hundred miles long.  The radar reads green (rain), yellow (disturbances), and orange (thunderstorms), with pockets of red (severe thunder and lightning) and purple (hail and hook clouds that precede tornadoes or indicate microbursts).  We've already had two microbursts pass over and through this old house in the last few years, taking out two trees mere feet from the room in which we were hiding.  (Yes, when a microburst happens, one shouldn't be near any windows or flying glass and/or tree limbs.)

Today is no different, so I do what I always do when I'm home alone during a serious storm: I put on a headset with music, shut myself into a windowless room, and alternate between playing on the laptop or my cell phone, and doing crossword puzzles or Sudokus.  I am having a grand old time.  The musical selections range from Handel's "Behold the Lamb of God" to Leon Redbone singing "Oh, the weather outside is frightful..." to John Williams' "Imperial March" from Star Wars (Darth Vader's theme song).

I am enjoying the irony of the sound track while watching the radar amp itself up when I suddenly remember my parents' obsession with unplugging large and important appliances.

Sonofabitch.  I have a load of laundry in the brand new washer and one in the brand new dryer.

I run downstairs to the basement and shut off the dryer but leave it plugged in.  No way am I breaking anything that just got installed hours ago.  The washer?  Forget about it.  It's a new-fangled one that prefers to run through its cycle without so much as an interruption to add fabric softener.  That load of laundry is on its own.  Besides, I have renter's insurance and warranties on the machines.

I head back to the safety of the windowless room (aka the bathroom) and continue with my routine, solving some puzzles and playing a few games of electronic Solitaire while watching the radar as the storms near my area quickly veer off into other directions. 

When it's safe enough to go outside and start snapping pictures, I figure it's safe enough to put the dryer back on.  I mean, it was probably okay to leave it on.  I left on the brand new air conditioners, too.  I'm crazy, but I'm not a glutton for punishment.  If Armageddon is here and now, I at least want to die in clean clothes and a comfortable climate.