Category Archives: Weather

Frozen March

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The calendar turns to March, winter doesn’t care. Below freezing most of the time in recent days, close to single digits some nights, but at least no ice or snow from the sky. I understand the Northeast is getting blasted now, but the storm bypassed this part of the Midwest. All we have it rims of dirty snow and ice.

A week ago, when I flew from Dallas to Chicago, skies were cold and clear but also windy, at least at Midway. Not windy enough to prevent landing, but the pilot did warn us that the landing might be bumpy.

He wasn’t just whistling Dixie. Besides regular turbulence, the jet shook from side-to-side, not violently, but more than you’d want, even after it had touched down on the runway. When the plane finally came to a stop, spontaneous applause broke out. It was that kind of landing. You know, a good one. We all walked away from it.

I looked at this posting the other day and was surprised to remember that I’ve been watching The Americans for that long — since March 2013. Watched the penultimate episode on Friday night. Wow, it was good.

The last season has been on demand for a while now, but I refuse to gobble them up like little chocolate doughnuts. I take them more like Toblerone, a sweet triangle at a time, back when that confection was hard to find in the United States.

(I remember an irritating guest we had late in college at our house in early ’80s Nashville. His worst offence was snarfing down our entire Toblerone bar when no one was watching.)

TV was meant for weekly installments. That’s in Leviticus, I think. Except maybe Batman during the original run. Commentaries vary.

I understand The Americans finale is a corker, and I believe it, though I don’t know the details. The show’s nothing if not suspenseful. Sorry to see it end.

Three Presidential Postcards

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Got a press release last night and I glanced at the first line: Naava’s co-founder and CEO Aki Soudunsaari becomes Strategy Director, and long-time KONE employee Arttu Salmenhaara becomes the new Naava CEO.

Scanned it: aa aa aa aa. From Finland, I thought.

Yep. Seems that Helsinki-based Naava makes green walls. The release boasts (as releases tend to): Naava is no ordinary green or plant wall – it is a piece of furniture that promotes wellbeing, a biological air purifier, humidifier and, when needed, a space divider all in one.

Speaking of plant life, the sun came out today but temps remained below freezing. So we enjoyed the minor spectacle of icy plants in the sunshine.

Ephemeral for sure. Above freezing is predicted for tomorrow.

The following are a few more postcards from my minuscule U.S. presidential collection, all postwar chief executives.

Actually, that isn’t the presidential Eisenhower to the left, it’s General of the Army Eisenhower. Thomas E. Stephens painted the portrait. The image of Kennedy on the right I hadn’t seen until I bought the card at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum.

The card doesn’t tell me, but a little Googling reveals that the JFK picture was taken by Cecil Stoughton, who was the president’s official photographer, aboard the yacht Honey Fitz off Hyannis Port, August 31, 1963.

Finally, Jimmy Carter. Mostly Rosalynn, but Jimmy’s back there. Actually President-elect Carter, since the image is dated January 19, 1977, the day before he took office. No photographer attributed and I haven’t been able to track it down.

The card reflects the brief period when the Carters wanted to emphasize that they were jus’ regular folks. As you might remember, Jimmy and Rosalynn walked from the Capitol to the White House in the post-inaugural parade the next day, an unprecedented act. Must have given the Secret Service fits, but nothing bad came of it.

William Henry Harrison and the King of Toilet-Paper Art

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Last night the atmosphere couldn’t make up its mind between snow and rain. So the compromise was ice.

Lovely on the plants. Otherwise, a pain in the ass. Literally, if you fall down.

In honor of Abraham Lincoln’s 210th birthday, I assembled my collection of U.S. presidential postcards in one place. It didn’t take long. I only have about two dozen. They come in two classes: those depicting U.S. presidents and those depicting places associated with them.

It’s a limited selection because I haven’t been trying very hard to accumulate them over the years. I have the following presidents on postcards: Jefferson, Jackson, William Henry Harrison, Andrew Johnson, Benjamin Harrison, Hoover, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Carter, Reagan and Clinton. But not Lincoln.

I also have one depicting George Mifflin Dallas, 11th Vice President of the United States, who was Polk’s VP. Don’t hear much about him.

Oddly enough, I have more of William Henry Harrison than any other president: three cards dedicated to that briefest of chief executives. Here are two side-by-side cards of Harrison in his days of military glory, around the time of the Battle of Tippecanoe and the Battle of the Thames.
On the left is an 1814 painting by Rembrandt Peale that hangs in Grouseland in Indiana. On the right is an 1813 painting by John Wesley Jarvis, also at Grouseland. I got both cards when we were there for a low price that made me think the museum was getting rid of its stock of postcards, never to replace them.

At some other time I acquired the card on the right, an older Harrison — around the time of his election? Probably, since the flag in the background has 26 stars, which lasted from 1837 to 1845, between the admissions of Michigan and Florida.

An artist named Morris Katz (1932-2010) painted the image of Harrison in 1967. One of a series of presidential portraits that year for Katz, apparently. I have another one of his of Benjamin Harrison, from the same year .

From what I’ve read about Katz, he probably whipped out all of the presidential portraits in a single afternoon. A 1978 article in New York magazine called him “the king of toilet-paper art” and said that he called himself “the world’s fastest painter, creator of instant art.”

“Toilet-paper art”? I wondered exactly what that involved. The article says: “Using only a palette knife and a roll of toilet paper to apply paint, he whips off a landscape oil in under ten minutes…”

This video illustrates his technique. Essentially, Katz used bunched up toilet paper as a kind of sponge to apply the paint. He’s no Rembrandt Peale, but I’ll take him over mutant-eyed Margaret Keane children any day. One of the dentists I visited as a child had her paintings on the wall, or at least paintings in that style, and damned if they weren’t unnerving.

Century of Progress, Missent to Kansas City

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Had my slip and fall over the weekend. That happens about once per winter. Light snow was falling on Sunday, just enough to cover up a patch of ice waiting for me on a sidewalk. You know how it is. By the time you realize you’re falling, you’re on the ground.

Ann was next to me and helped me to my feet again. I knew I had children for a reason. This time, no bone damage or even bruises or any pain. Sometimes you get lucky.

The risk isn’t over. Until 9 a.m. Tuesday, the NWS says: “Total snow accumulations of 1 to 4 inches expected with highest amounts in the north. Ice accumulations of up to one quarter of an inch possible across portions of Lee, DeKalb, Kane, and DuPage Counties…

“Strong westerly winds are expected to develop Tuesday afternoon and continue Tuesday night. These strong winds may result in blowing snow and may also increase the threat of power outages…”

Oh, boy. Days like this, time to dwell on the past. Someone else’s past. At some point during the last few years, I acquired this postcard for a modest sum.
It’s a genuine penny postcard, depicting the General Motors Building at the 1933 world’s fair in Chicago. The Century of Progress Exposition, to use its formal name.

A product of the Reuben H. Donnelley Co., whom I assume was tasked to make cards for the fair. Not, as it turns out, the same entity as R.R. Donnelley Publishing, but a separate company founded by Richard Robert Donnelley’s son, Reuben H. Donnelley. Guess he didn’t want to work for the old man.

The card was mailed from the fair, postmarked 9 p.m. July 17, 1933, a Monday, and sent to a Mrs. A.G. Drew of St. Joseph, Mo. Interestingly, there’s another postmark that says “Missent to Kansas City, July 18, 1933.” Hope the delay wasn’t too long for Mrs. Drew.

When I lived in Osaka, one day I got a beaten up envelope in the mail that had been about three weeks in transit from the United States, or two weeks longer than usual. Stamped on the bottom (in English) was “Missent to Manila.”

A Slightly Less Gelid Day

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Zero degrees Fahrenheit isn’t warm at all, unless compared with 20 degrees below that. I spent a few minutes out early this afternoon — with temps actually at 5 below or so — and it was tolerable for what I needed to do, which was make sure the garage door closed.

Very low temps cloud the electronic eye, I think. At least, rubbing the lens clear seems to help.

“Surfing” never seemed like the right verb for wandering around the Internet. Maybe that’s why you don’t hear it much anymore, 20 years after it was common. Wander, meander, ramble — these seem better. More descriptive of the way I approach the Internet anyway.

The polar vortex loose on the Upper Midwest naturally led me to read a bit about Antarctic exploration, some about Shackleton but also, in a classic online tangent, the ship Southern Cross, which sailed on the lesser-known British Antarctic Expedition (1898-1900), a.k.a. the Southern Cross Expedition (and not Kingsford Smith’s aircraft, which I heard about years ago in Australia).

The Southern Cross was mostly a sealing vessel and eventually she went down with all hands in the North Atlantic — 174 men — in the 1914 Newfoundland Sealing Disaster, an incident about which I knew nothing.

Reading about that led me to information of the Newfoundland sealing industry, something I also knew nothing about. Here’s a short item about that industry, with footage of Newfies bounding around on dangerous ice floes in the days before the Canadian equivalent of OSHA.

That naturally lead to other information about Newfoundland. Apparently there’s a Newfoundland tricolor, but it’s not the official flag. There’s a song about it anyway.

I looked up the official Newfoundland and Labrador flag. Not bad, exactly, just a little odd. Though it had one designer, it looks like a compromise between two factions of the same committee.

This Gelid Day

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I got up this morning and before long pulled up the Weather Underground page for my suburb. At about 9 a.m. the temperature was minus 23 F. “Feels like minus 43,” the site helpfully added, since there was some wind.

At O’Hare, the low was one degree colder, it seems. “This morning’s minimum of 24 below zero was the coldest in Chicago in the 36 years since the morning of January 20, 1985, when Chicago’s all-time record low of minus 27 was recorded,” WGN reports. Even in Nashville, I remember that things were pretty cold around that time in ’85.

Not to worry, we had a high of minus 15 F. to look forward to today. That happened around 1 in the afternoon, but as of about 7 p.m. we were back to 17 below. Remarkably, the weather savants say that the local air will be above freezing by the weekend. Hope so.

Early in the afternoon, the dog wanted to go out to do what dogs do outside. So I let her out. During the minute or so she spent in the frozen landscape, I couldn’t resist the urge to document the scene — as quickly as possible through a door that was open for a few seconds.
No adjustment of the image necessary. Looks like the camera also caught light dispersing through ice crystals in the gelid air.

At temps like this, it’s easy to anthropomorphize the cold. It feels like the cold is pressing on all the doors and windows, trying to put its icy fingers through the cracks, eager to invade the house and equalize the temperature outside and inside. As if central heating is an affront to its idea of the way things should be.

My work desk faces an outside window. Even wearing socks, I could feel the temps under the desk to be lower than usual today. Behind one of our kitchen cabinets is an exterior wall. The air was noticeably cooler in the cabinet today. Last night, I heard the house pop and creak a little as the outside temps dipped below zero. That is unnerving.

Some years ago, an occasional BTST reader said, you sure write about the weather a lot. The implication was, I think, why are you wasting your time with trivia like that?

I’ve thought about that question occasionally since then. Odd what some people consider trivial. Like the weather. Which is the state of the atmosphere in which we live 24 hours a day, seven days a week, except for a handful of astronauts for a little while. You’d think it would be worth some attention.

Actually, in this iteration of BTST at least, weather is a main category in only about 10 percent of the postings: 132 of a total of 1,342. Seems like a healthy amount of attention to me.

Of that category, only 18 postings (like today) are tagged “dangerous weather,” all of which I’ve experienced myself. Winter storms, hurricanes, very heavy rains, high heat, usw. (Well, I’ve never been near a hurricane, but I did hear a typhoon rush by outside in Osaka.) “Unpleasant weather” gets 43 tags while “pleasant weather” gets 23, so I guess I’m not one to accentuate the positive when it comes to atmospheric conditions.

Ignore the weather at your peril. The unnamed protagonist in Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” didn’t give it much thought, and look where it got him: frozen to death.

“Fifty degrees below zero meant eighty-odd degrees of frost. Such fact impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, and that was all. It did not lead him to meditate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon man’s frailty in general, able only to live within certain narrow limits of heat and cold; and from there on it did not lead him to the conjectural field of immortality and man’s place in the universe.”

Reading About the Wazir of Wham in the Pit of Winter

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Sliding into the pit of winter. The abyss. The Mariana Trench. With any luck temps won’t be any colder in February.

The snow was intense enough this morning that school was cancelled and garbage pickup didn’t happen on our street today as scheduled, though the recycle truck came more-or-less on time in the mid-morning, even before the plows.

I decided to go ahead and read the biography of Babe Ruth that I have handy, Babe Ruth: His Life and Legend by Kal Wagenheim (1974). Not overly scholarly, but fun. A book about good-time Babe Ruth that isn’t fun isn’t trying very hard. Also, it was written long enough ago that plenty of old timers were still around to tell stories about Ruth.

Been a while since I read any baseball books. Can’t remember the last one. Might have been You Gotta Have Wa.

One amusing thing to read about is the array of nicknames that sports writers invented for the Babe. The Sultan of Swat or the Bambino, everyone knows (or should), but less-well known is the Colossus of Clout or the Behemoth of Bust. Or the Caliph of Clout, Wazir of Wham, Maharajah of Mash, Rajah of Rap, Mammoth of Maul, Wali of Wallop, the Mauling Monarch and the Terrible Titan.

Cow Ride at the Mall

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Australia Day has come and gone. Oz is reportedly suffering a viciously hot summer this year. Adelaide, a pleasant place in my recollection, seems to be getting hit especially hard.

Meanwhile, here in North America, or at least my part of it, after being a slacker for most of December and part of January, winter is hitting hard. Dead ahead, according to the NWS on Sunday evening:

WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 9 PM THIS EVENING TO 6 PM CST MONDAY… Heavy snow and blowing snow tonight with freezing drizzle and blowing snow likely at times Monday. Snow rates overnight into early morning are likely to reach up to an inch per hour at times. This will result in very low visibilities and rapid snow accumulations into the early morning commute. Total snow accumulations of 3 to 7 inches and ice accumulations of a light glaze expected.

This after subzero temps on Friday, and ahead of temps as low as minus 20 by Tuesday (Fahrenheit, the only scale that’s made for humans). Still, on Saturday things had warmed up to low double-digits, so we were out for a while. The three of us and a friend of Ann’s, on the occasion, not quite precisely, of Ann’s birthday. Nice to get out of the house.

We ate at Gabuttø Burger at Ann’s request. Since I discovered the place at the Mitsuwa food court, the Japanese burgerie has moved into a small strip center on a busy street in Rolling Meadows and seems to be doing well there. We visit a few times a year.

Then to a northwest suburban mall. Not the biggest one, the 2.1 million-square-foot Woodfield, but a smaller one. The one we visited isn’t a dying mall, but it has lost an anchor or two, along with some of its inline stores.

Still, the mall is doing what it can. It now sports a number of places to take children and entertain them, for instance. Not playplaces in the middle of the mall, but small entertainment venues that used to be more conventional retail.

Including a place where you can rent animal-ride scooters for a few minutes. She’s not in the main demographic, but according to Ann, it was a birthday thing to do, so she and her friend spent 10 minutes tooling around the mall.

She picked a cow. Looked like she had a jolly time of it.

Thursday Bunkum

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Our latest snow was less convenient than previous ones this winter, falling in mid-week. I spent a fair chunk of Wednesday shoveling more snow around, this time wetter masses than the last snowfall. Now an arctic blast is blasting its way toward northern Illinois. Subzero temps ahead.

Ah, fun. We’ve been down this road before, of course.

I just found out today that the Emperor of Japan is going to abdicate on April 30. That was news in December, but I missed it. I chanced across the information in a copy of the bilingual Chicago Shimpo, a paper Yuriko picks up for free periodically at the Mitsuwa grocery store.

The Imperial Household Agency, known for its mossback ways, is on board with that?  Yet abdication from the Chrysanthemum Throne isn’t unknown. The most recent abdication was of Kōkaku, who quit in 1817. Pretty recent, considering the longevity of the Yamato Dynasty.

In even earlier times, back when the emperor was more of a political football than in recent centuries, one emperor was sometimes forced out to make way for another.

Now that I’ve finished reading Stalin — which I read after John Wayne: The Life and Legend by Scott Eyman (2014), an excellent book — I’ve decided to read some more biographies. A biography bender. Next I want to pick one from around the house, one that I haven’t read.

My choices, at least those I’ve found so far, include works on Francis Bacon, Benedict Arnold and Babe Ruth.

Something called Indywire asserted recently that: Coen Brothers Shock With ‘Buster Scruggs’ Oscar Nomination

I’m not shocked. I’ve seen five of the six stories in the The Ballad of Buster Scuggs so far and they’re really good, especially “Meal Ticket” and “The Gal Who Got Rattled.” Not that being good necessarily gets a movie nominations, but it helps.

All the stories get the Coen Brothers treatment, so you know that something bad is going to happen to at least one of the characters. In the “The Gal Who Got Rattled,” the feeling was particularly poignant, because as the story moved along, both the man and woman evolved into remarkably sympathetic characters. Then one of the dangers of the 19th century smites them.

Parts of the movie were based on sources much closer to the 19th century than our own, such as “The Girl Who Got Rattled” by Stewart Edward White and Jack London’s “All Gold Cañon,” while other parts evoke cowboy pictures of yore.

That only goes to show that there’s a vast and largely untapped galaxy of source material for movies — books, short stories, historic events, myths, graphic novels and on and on. Do moviemakers show any interest in mining these riches? Mostly not, seems like, and if they do, commercial pressures disabuse them of the notion. The Coens are exceptions. I’m glad they’re able to make the movies they want to.

Snowy MLK Weekend

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The weather’s been strangely accommodating so far this month. Ten days ago, snowfall held off till Saturday afternoon. This is what it looked like in Chicago, as Ann and I went to lunch after Titus Andronicus.
At Mr. J’s Dawg ‘n Burger. Glad it’s still there.

Last Friday, heavy snow started to fall well after rush hour, which was a few hours later than forecast. After finishing work in the late afternoon, I went to a grocery store. The place was jammed. We all could have gone a few hours later and still avoided driving in the snow.

By Saturday morning, about a foot of snow covered the ground. Spent a fair amount of that morning removing snow from the my driveway and sidewalks, but not so enthusiastically that I found myself in a hospital or worse. At least the snow was light, unlike the heavy stuff in November.

On Sunday, the high was 14 degrees F., the low 4, and the previous day’s clouds had cleared off. Here we are in the pit of winter. This encouraged us to stay home.

As I was taking out the trash in the evening, I looked up at the full moon and noticed that part of it was missing. A shadow had taken a bite. Then I remember the expected total lunar eclipse, which I’d forgotten.

A little later, at about 10:50 pm, we all went out in the single-digit temps to see totality: a pretty penny in the sky. Lunar eclipses are better in the summer, but they are when they are. Less than a minute outside looking at it was enough.