- Joined
- Mar 18, 2010
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- 527
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- Centaur
It slipped by me by a day, but Nov. 30, 2011 was the night that totally uncharacteristic 100-mph winds ripped up Southern California, and I'm pleased to note that so far this time around there isn't a trace of anything similar.
Yet.
I had just brought home a 6.5-foot steel utility cabinet and hadn't secured it to the back of the house; with the contents including a pair of cylinder heads, a spare bench vise, and a few heavy-gauge extension cords, why should I have to, right?
Anyway, when the real shit started, all I could do was sit in the dark (power poles ripped out of the ground) and listen to the sound of that cabinet being blown around like a cardboard shoebox as it bounced from the back wall of the house (chipping up the stucco) to the left side of my 1967 Chevy Impala (jacked up and defenseless with the rear axle completely disassembled so I couldn't even drop it and roll it anyplace) to the spare Chevy Six engine (resting solidly on lumber rails and therefore an effective doorstop) and the old Frigidaire electric kitchen range (which isn't in as nice a condition now as it was) holding down the yard. Needless to say, I was pissed.
What DID need saying, or at least deserved consideration, was how much worse it could have been. I'm about thirty miles from the nearest beach, so no flooding---hell; as I recall, it didn't even rain! Thinking of what was endured by the people near our (USA) Atlantic coast who were at the mercy of Hurricane Sandy sort of puts MY gripe into perspective.
But I'm still pissed.
issed:
GSG
Yet.
I had just brought home a 6.5-foot steel utility cabinet and hadn't secured it to the back of the house; with the contents including a pair of cylinder heads, a spare bench vise, and a few heavy-gauge extension cords, why should I have to, right?
Anyway, when the real shit started, all I could do was sit in the dark (power poles ripped out of the ground) and listen to the sound of that cabinet being blown around like a cardboard shoebox as it bounced from the back wall of the house (chipping up the stucco) to the left side of my 1967 Chevy Impala (jacked up and defenseless with the rear axle completely disassembled so I couldn't even drop it and roll it anyplace) to the spare Chevy Six engine (resting solidly on lumber rails and therefore an effective doorstop) and the old Frigidaire electric kitchen range (which isn't in as nice a condition now as it was) holding down the yard. Needless to say, I was pissed.
What DID need saying, or at least deserved consideration, was how much worse it could have been. I'm about thirty miles from the nearest beach, so no flooding---hell; as I recall, it didn't even rain! Thinking of what was endured by the people near our (USA) Atlantic coast who were at the mercy of Hurricane Sandy sort of puts MY gripe into perspective.
But I'm still pissed.

GSG