GREAT TIME, GREAT TORNADO, AND GREAT WHITE

Sidelined!  Damnation, I've been sidelined!

Last week in the midst of my misadventures, somehow I managed to get not one but two nails embedded into the same tire.  This is not just idiocy on my part, it's talent.  I don't know how nor where nor when, but I suspect it happened at the Decordova Museum since I didn't like it much.

That's right.  I said it: I did not like the Decordova Museum.

The Decordova Museum is like the Institute of Contemporary Art's lame cousin (and anyone who has read my blog might recall that I detest the ICA).  Never have I seen so much amazing, available space wasted so blatantly.  After suffering through the ridiculous admittance fee, I was done with the museum itself in about a millisecond, so I drove around the dirt parking lot to see if there might be other paths with other sculptures to see because the stuff outside the museum far exceeds the crap inside of it.  That's probably where the nails came into play, the little metal bastards.

But I digress, sort of.  The nails in my tire...

The day after the Decordova debacle, I am due in Chatham.  Luckily, I am only driving as far as Medford, which isn't too far, so I ignore the low tire message.  Okay, I don't totally ignore it; I pump up my tires with a super-powered, hand-operated air pump that I keep in my trunk.  You see, my tires have sent this to me this message before, and they've only been a few PSI below their required levels.  So, yes, I drive to and from Medford and ignore my car's warning system.

My friend drives us down to Chatham so we can spend the day with other friends who live about a half mile from the beach.  The only fly in this story is that we are visiting three days post-tornado.  Well, we think it's "a" tornado -- turns out to be three tornadoes.   But, again, I digress a bit.

On our way through Chatham, we drive right over the swath of street that the tornado crossed.    How do we know?  We know because huge trees are ripped out of the ground, street signs are twisted and tossed on the roadside and on top of bushes, and there is a path of torn ground on either side of the tarred street.

I have had the unfortunate displeasure of experiencing two microbursts that cut through about five miles of property each, both of which passed over my house and took out two giant trees about twenty feet from where I was hunkered down in my home.  One microburst took the first tall maple tree; a second one a couple of years later took out the other tall maple tree.  Thank you very much, but that would be a big, fat NO to tornadoes after living through that shit.  So, looking at the damage here from what the weather people label F1, I kind of poop myself for you people in the Midwest with your F3 and F4 and, god forbid, F5 monsters.

Our friends' property is unscathed except for their car.  They happened to be driving and took cover in a parking lot, where roof shingles from a nearby building smacked the car's hood, scraping and denting it like it was a toy.  This damage came from the indirect hit of the tornado, from them being in between two  touchdowns.  Yup, the tornado came along on the ground, lost its footing around the parking lot vicinity, then touched down again.  Indeed, luck was with them ... except for the (shit on the) shingles.

Later, after surveying the damage and hearing the tale, we head to the beach for a walk.  I'm not really feeling the ocean kayaking nor too much swimming (beyond my knees) at this point because I consider myself lucky: my tires didn't go flat yet, my friends survived the tornado, and we are having a nice visit without the need to sight-see any more tornado damage.  Honestly, I'm not sure I should press my good luck any further.

Besides, there's a huge sign warning swimmers and boaters about the great white sharks in the area.  I am feeling like I've had enough adventure for one day, and I would very much like to return home with as many limbs as those with which I arrived in Chatham.  I still have to limp my tire-weary car home later in the evening, and I'll need at least one foot and one arm to do so.  Better to not risk it.

Of course, now that I've made it home safe and sound and had the nails removed from my tire (I had to replace it, it was that damaged ... yay, me), and I've had a few days to recover while sidelined, I think I'm ready for another adventure.  If no one minds, though, I'll do so without further car issues and certainly would appreciate Mother Nature's cooperation and mercy.