Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade – Going Again

Two years ago, celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary, Helaine and I took Steffie to New York City for the annual Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was an unreal experience (click the link, it’s worth reading if you’re considering going)!

We got there early enough to sit at the curb… and early enough for me to nap before the parade began.

I brought my Fuji S620 along and took hundreds of shots. It’s tough to get a bad one when you’re right on the line of march and the sunlight is strong.

Over the past few days my website has taken a growth spurt and it’s totally because of those photos.

I am going back this year, though under somewhat different circumstances.

My boss called Friday. He had spoken to a producer at ABC’s affiliate news service. Somehow, they had given everyone Thursday off! That left them short a reporter to stand on a rooftop, overlooking the parade, providing live shots to all the affiliates (though most will happen before the parade actually starts).

He thought of me, and the rest is encompassed in my anticipation of sleep deprivation.

I’ll know more Monday, but it looks like my days starts on Central Park West sometime around 4:00 AM. Since there are affiliates coast-to-coast, I’ll be feeding until the West Coast starts Good Morning America at 10:00 AM EST.

I’m really looking forward to it, in spite of an awful weather forecast. It’s a fun event and will lend itself to having a good time on-the-air. And, it will be interesting to test myself over dozens of similar, yet different live shots.

If you read this blog for no apparent reason and have no real idea who I am or what I do, check your local ABC TV affiliate Thanksgiving morning. I’ll be looking for you.

Why Wilma Scares Me

Just in case you’re counting, Hurricane Wilma is currently 1735 miles southwest of me. That’s ‘as the crow flies’ miles. Because this hurricane is ready to make a sweeping right hand turn, it would have to travel significantly farther.

How can I be worried about something 1735 miles away? It’s easy – I’ve seen this scenario before. I didn’t live it. It predates me. I’ve studied it because it is the benchmark for New England hurricane grief.

Before you feel my pain, let me talk a little about my parents. They’re ensconced in Boynton Beach, FL. Hurricane Wilma is 640 miles south-southwest of them.

As it stands now, the official Hurricane Center prediction takes Wilma right over… or reasonably close to them. Though the storm will be coming over land, it’s swampy land. There’s warm water and low friction in the Everglades. It’s not perfect for a hurricane but it won’t kill it either.

My folks have hurricane shutters and live in a substantial building. I think they’ll be OK, though I’ll revisit this with them later today.

Here’s the one bit of good news. Hurricane Wilma will be ‘booking’ as she passes through Florida. Coast-to-coast will be 10, maybe 12 hours. The faster Hurricane Wilma moves, the sooner the trouble is over.

Nature adapts to this kind of trouble. Palm trees have decidedly less wind resistance than the deciduous trees we have here in Connecticut.

The Hurricane Center forecasts 110 mph winds at landfall in Florida, dropping to 80 mph by the time the storm reemerges in the Atlantic&#185. Even 80 mph, a small hurricane, is substantial if it passes close by. Most of us have never experienced 80 mph winds… and we’ve all seen plenty of wind damage.

The Hurricane Center used to talk about 80 mph storms as minimal hurricanes. They don’t anymore. That’s a change for the better.

I am anticipating moderate to severe damage on the West Coast of Florida with minimal to scattered moderate damage on the East Coast. There will be a much smaller radius of damage in the east.

Once the storm leaves Florida the guessing game begins. It will really accelerate. This is the part that starts resembling the Hurricane of ’38.

From PBS’ American Experience: Within 24 hours, the storm ripped into the New England shore with enough fury to set off seismographs in Sitka, Alaska. Traveling at a shocking 60 miles per hour — three times faster than most tropical storms — it was astonishingly swift and powerful, with peak wind gusts up to 186 m.p.h. The storm without a name turned into one of the most devastating storms recorded in North America. Over 600 people were killed, most by drowning. Another hundred were never found. Property damage was estimated at $300 million — over 8,000 homes were destroyed, 6,000 boats wrecked or damaged.

Though the storm struck Connecticut’s coast in Fairfield County, the strongest damage was experienced at the opposite end of the state and into Rhode Island.

Here’s what’s most troubling. A storm barreling up the East Coast will leave minimal time for warning. Look at the map. Florida to New Jersey in 24 hours! I couldn’t drive it that quickly.

To get a Hurricane Warning out 24 hours in advance would mean alerting most of the Northeast. An error of a few degrees in course could mean Atlantic City versus Boston.

And where would all these people go? Imagine sending everyone in Coastal New England west on I-95!

This is the worst case scenario. A direct hit to New England would cause as much destruction, and possibly as many deaths, as the unpredicted storm in 1938!

The current projections bring Hurricane Wilma far enough east to spare New England. But there is very little margin for error over a five day forecast. I’m certainly not confident in it. Just a few degrees off…

So now we wait and watch. Like I said, there will be lots of phone calls to Florida tomorrow. I want to make sure my parents have every possible advantage. Then we’ll bring the worries closer to home.

Hurricane Wilma scares me to the bone.

&#185 – The Hurricane Center readily admits, of all the things it does, predicting intensity is the thing it does worst.

Which Storm Is Next?

Tropical Storm Lee came and went in an instant. There’s a Tropical Depression in the Atlantic that will probably be Maria. It’s in a place that doesn’t favor a North American threat.

Next would be Nate.

There is a chunk of moisture with thunderstorms popping up in the Eastern Atlantic. It is very far away. The Hurricane Center has not seen fit to give it a name or track it in any but the most basic way. It’s a possibility for Nate.

Earlier tonight, my friend Bob, the hurricane expert (PhD and teaching position in meteorology at a fine large university), said this blob of cloudiness deserved watching… and so I have joined its observers.

These small clusters of thunderstorms pop up off the west coast of Africa all the time during this part of the hurricane season. Hurricane birth is very much a movable feast. There are different climatologically favored areas, depending on the time of year.

Most of them collapse under their own weight. Only a few grow.

Even when they grow, there’s a good chance they’ll be like Lee – far away from people and not very long lived. There are many more Lees than there are Katrinas.

Hurricanes are difficult to predict. A lot of that has to do with the very light steering winds they encounter. A mile or two per hour or the change of a few degrees in wind direction make a big difference in where a hurricane will move over an extended length of time.

Then there’s the water temperature. Have we accurately observed what it is… or have we been fooled (because satellites, radar and our other tools aren’t quite as good as the general public thinks they are when a system’s very far from ground based instruments)?

Hurricanes are also compact systems. They’re too small to be easily or accurately picked up by the conventional computer models we use. And, we need dates far in the future for something closer to Africa than America. Our errors are multiplied with time.

After all that, knowing we’ll mostly be wrong, we look anyway. We often chatter among ourselves over these left field predictons. I’m not entirely sure why.

I’m attaching part of a computer model which picks up this pre-Nate cluster, allows the storm to engorge itself on warm, tropical, Atlantic water until it reaches hurricane strength, and then curves it up the East Coast.

I don’t believe it is true. I don’t think this forecast will happen. But, it’s all we have right now. It’s what the geeky boys are currently talking about

Will there be a Nate and will he be right off the New England coast Tuesday, September 13, 2005 at 8:00 PM EDT (9/14/2005 0000Z) as this maps shows? Stay tuned.

Stranger things have happened.

On To Palm Springs

Our week in Los Angeles was great. The three of us agreed we had a wonderful time. We saw friends, ate great food, visited fun places and (some of us) power shopped.

Now it was time to move our quarter ton of luggage to the next stop: Palm Springs. None of us had ever been here before, but we all like the desert.

Helaine had taken the time to print directions before we left Connecticut. Take a right from the hotel, down to Pico, then right toward Overland and I-10. But when we got to Pico there was a sign for I-10… but pointing left!

Who to believe? We chose the State of California. Bad choice.

The I-10 East signs lasted a few blocks and then… nothing. We continued to drive down Pico. Signs on stores changed from English to Spanish and then Korean. The buildings of Downtown LA grew larger. We were very lost.

When I came to a street I recognized, we turned. There was an overpass ahead, but not I-10. I decided to find a place to turn around and head back to Pico. And then I saw the sign: I-10 East.

The drive to Palm Springs is fairly easy. As you head east, Los Angeles County becomes less pretty. Then it’s bedroom town after bedroom town after bedroom town.

We stopped in West Covina to have lunch at “In-n-Out Burger.” “In-n-Out” is a West Coast chain of fast food burger joints. Steffie had seen one on some show, and she thought it would be fun.

“In-n-Out” has a very short menu. Burgers, fries, drinks – that’s about it.

I was immediately struck by how many people were behind the counter and in the kitchen. They seemed more labor intensive than McDonalds or Burger King.

My cheeseburger was excellent, the fries were light and good… and so, In-n-Out Burger now has a new fan.

We got back on I-10 and headed east. The land is fairly flat and filled with scrub type vegetation. We moved farther into the desert and the population began to thin out.

And then, I spotted the wind turbines.

I knew this place existed, but had never really thought about it. On I-10, just before the exit for Palm Springs, up sprang a huge ‘farm’ of wind turbines. Each was on a tall tower with a three bladed propeller. They seemed to be spinning slower than would be expected with the wind.

At San Gorgonio Pass, hot air rises over the Coachella Valley and forces cooler air through a pass between the San Bernadino and San Jacinto Mountains. Wind speeds there average 15-20 miles per hour (24.1-32.2 kmh), with the prime wind season occurring from March to September. There are over 4,000 wind turbines in this 70 square mile (182 square kilometer) area. Most of the land is privately owned, although the U.S. Bureau of Land Management administers a portion of it.

This is an unbelievable sight, and I will check to see if it’s possible to visit up close.

We’re in Palm Springs now, settled in our hotel. More on what we did last night and what we’ve got planned for today a little later.

Orange County and Laguna Beach – Excellent

We woke up today to clouds and showers. It was in the sky. It was in the forecast. In fact, the forecast was for rain through the day and into Sunday.

It’s depressing.

This was our day to head south to Irvine and visit my cousins. We got the car, turned right on Avenue of the Stars&#185 and headed toward I-10.

Before we left Connecticut, I went to Google and got maps and directions. Directions are not like horseshoes. Close doesn’t make it. Google’s directions were close, but not totally correct. Somehow, we muddled along and found our way to Orange County and the Foxes of Southern California. Google’s got to do a better job if they’re going to be serious mapmakers.

We visited Michael, Melissa and Max, noshed a little, and tried to decide where to go. There was a temporary break in the weather action, so we decided on Laguna Beach.

On our way, we passed by six year old Cousin Max’s school and decided to turn in and take a look.

None of us have ever seen a school like this. I’m not sure how to describe it except to say the school is a collection of small German fairytale style buildings. There are dozens of animals from pigs to goats to chickens to rabbits… even a llama.

He’s in the first grade, learning French and German. He loves the school, and I can see why. It is one of a kind. In many ways it fits Laguna Beach.

Laguna Beach is known as an artist’s colony. All along Pacific Coast Highway and the surrounding streets are boutiques, galleries and restaurants. It’s a browser’s paradise and, for the shoe-addicted like Steffie, a place to buy another pair of shoes.

Laguna Beach is also a beautiful and expensive place to live. Not far from the ocean are steeply rising hills. Somehow, huge houses have been placed on these hills. From the ground it looks like the ground is steep enough to cause a goat to reconsider where he’s walking. The houses are there none the less.

When you hear about California houses sliding down mountains, they’re talking about houses like these.

As we walked down one street, Helaine pointed out what looked like a TV crew. Though I didn’t see the camera, I did see a guy with a pack filled with wireless microphone receivers. Near him a woman held a clipboard. My zoom lens let me read what was on her papers. They were from MTV, probably taping another season of Laguna Beach.

That show was one of the main reasons Steffie was so anxious to go to Laguna Beach in the first place!

As we kept walking, the sky kept brightening. Before long, the Sun began to poke out and, though by no means warm, it got warm enough to be comfortable.

We headed down to the beach.

Like so much of the California coastline, the area around Laguna Beach is a coast with character. Here the beach is broad. Offshore, there are some rocks visible above the sea’s surface, allowing birds to rest… and poop. From time-to-time the waves break on the rocks, throwing white spray up in the air.

This is a friendly beach. Yes, there are people in the water (though, this being the Pacific, it’s awfully cold), but the real action is at the water’s edge. There’s a beach volleyball net, a playground and a small boardwalk with benches.

I was amazed, and pleased, to see dogs welcome on this beach.

Actually, Laguna Beach seems to be a very dog-friendly town. Many of the shops and stores had water bowls right outside their front doors. Others had signs saying dogs were welcome. I even saw one woman with a novel way of bringing her dog into a restaurant… without bringing the dog into the restaurant!

This is probably as good a time as any to mention something that really worked today. Obviously, what was fun for the adults and Steffie at Laguna Beach was not Max’s first choice. Luckily, he had his Game Boy Advance with him. Every time we stopped, he found a place to sit, pulled out the Game Boy and played Shrek II. He was content pretty much all day.

We continued to walk and browse, but dinner time was approaching so we headed south on the Pacific Coast Highway to South Laguna Beach and “Montage.”

None of us in the East Coast Fox family had ever heard of Montage. Michael and Melissa, the West Coast contingent, had only heard of it through friends, but had never been. What a find.

Situated on a coastal bluff in the picturesque arts community of Laguna Beach, Montage Resort & Spa offers a unique mix: the amenities and conveniences of an ultra luxury beachfront hotel, coupled with the warmth and appeal of a cozy craftsman-style inn.

Excellent description for a property that originally housed a trailer park! It really is beautiful.

We were early for our dinner reservation, so we sat down for drinks in the main area in front of a picture window, looking down on the pool and the ocean. On the other side of the window is a balcony with the same spectacular view. I took my camera and started shooting away, only to be told my camera was “too professional looking” and I wouldn’t be allowed to take any more pictures.

I’m not quite sure why.

Dinner was at The Loft Restaurant, one floor down, but with an equally stunning view. This restaurant was equivalent to anything we had been to in Los Angeles… maybe nicer.

The service was excellent… though any place that refolds your napkin when you get up from the table tends to give me the heebee jeebees. The food was even better. Helaine compared it favorably to Spago, and I agree.

With dinner over, we said goodbye to Michael, Melissa and Max and headed north. We have been very lucky on the Southern California freeways, meeting hardly any traffic. By 8:30 we were back at the Century Plaza – exhausted.

What a great day. Everything we thought we’d do exceeded our expectations. The surprise spur of the moment things, or things Melissa and Michael had planned, were even better.

&#185 – Shoot me – I just like typing that. It’s the world’s most pretentious street name!

The Rain Arrives in Los Angeles

Let me set the stage. Los Angeles has had a ridiculously rainy winter. If people haven’t been directly affected, they know someone who has, or are worried they might be the injured party the next time.

I’m not just talking about houses sliding down hills. There are lesser, nagging problems that come out when the winter is very rainy. Roofs leak. Poorly sealed doors and windows let in water. Trees and branches tumble. Drivers panic, because they’re not sure how to handle their cars on wet roads. It’s a mess.

The truth is, Los Angeles is not built for bad weather. Too much is outside. Too much is exposed to the elements.

So today, when the rain returned, you could see everyone clenching their teeth just a little. No one was anxious to repeat the hell of earlier this winter. Only 1/3″ more rain and this would go down as the 2nd rainiest ever!

We thought we’d take it in stride.

We started the morning with breakfast at the hotel. I had an omelet, which was stuffed full, but only OK for taste. On the other hand, the place we ate itself, Breezes, was excellent. It is tastefully underdone and expansive… and expensive. That’s a given here.

We headed out to a Disney’ish upscale, outdoor mall called The Grove. It is adjacent to The Farmer’s Market (which I remember Jack Benny talking about when I was a little kid) and CBS&#185.

The stores at The Grove are similar to those you’d see at a nice mall. While Steffie and Helaine looked around, I headed to Barnes and Noble. This is an especially nice B&N with a large collection of books on all matters show business, plus how-to’s on writing screenplays, teleplays and books.

As the showers continued, the Grove became less of a fun place to be. There’s little cover, so there’s no avoiding getting wet.

We ducked into the Farmer’s Market, where Steffie proceeded to by a t-shirt. The Farmer’s Market is the antithesis of The Grove.

Here all the stores are one of a kind. There are lots of food stands, plus produce and meats, and clothing. It’s an eclectic mix.

We tired of the Farmer’s Market quickly, especially since we had eaten already. Back to the car, we headed to the Beverly Center, not far down Beverly Blvd.

The Beverly Center is a huge mall. The parking is on the lower levels with the mall running on levels 6,7 and 8. The mall seemed too open and cold. Maybe that’s not a fair judgment for a mall. Something was missing.

I found the Sony and Bose stores interesting in that I wondered why things were so expensive? Sony espcially computers that seemingly doubled as works of domestic art. Call me crazy, but I really look at computers as commodities today… even though this blog entry is being written on my Sony laptop.

Dinner tonight was another notable restaurant, Spago, picked by Steffie. She had heard about it, and its appeal. Helaine and I had eaten there a long time ago. Back then, a busboy had spilled a carafe of coffee all over her white suit. No need to go on.

My friend Paul joined us for dinner. I met Paul back when I met Howard, at Emerson College. Paul is a producer, mostly concentrating of DVD compilations right now.

Back when we went the first time, Spago was a 2nd floor walkup, right on Sunset. Now it’s on Can&#245n, near Wilshire, in Beverly Hills.

It’s a large, dark restaurant. At the end of the dining room is the kitchen, behind a large expanse of glass. It is a very busy kitchen.

We all shared a smoked salmon pizza as an appetizer. For dinner I had a lamb dish. The lamb itself was excellent, but the sauce was a bit overwhelming and the potatoes were puny. My chocolate desert was very tasty.

We were told the menu was printed daily, meaning there was no reason to read specials. They were already on the menu.

If you’re reading this in the East, there is a West Coast practice that is somewhat unusual. All restaurants have valet parking – and the pricier the meal, the more expensive the parking. In the case of a meal like this, they’re really nickel and diming you to death!

We had been told not to expect any celebrities at Spago, and we heard right. It looks like an older crowd, mostly expense accounts , not at all Hollywood and splashy – at least not tonight.

We are going to one more LA restaurant Sunday, which does have a celeb reputation and where we’ve seen big time stars in the past.

Tomorrow, we head into the OC to see Cousin Michael and his family in Irvine. Rain is expected. California is much more fun in the sun.

&#185 – The CBS complex is usually identified by these words, “From Television City in Hollywood.” It is not in Hollywood.

Chicago Fire Gets Little National Coverage

A fire broke out this evening in an older high rise office building in Chicago. At work we watched live feeds of the action. It was very compelling video with flames coming out the windows and people scurrying around not far from the danger (and as it turned out there were many injuries, including some injured firemen).

ABC and the other ‘legacy’ networks were in entertainment programming. This is not the type of story that would have ever caused them to break in. The same is not true for the cable news networks, so I flipped my tuner to Channel 31 and started at MSNBC.

They were in talk programming. I think it was Deborah Norville&#185. On Channel 32, Fox had Hannity and Colmes yapping away. Brooke Shields was with Larry King on CNN, Channel 33.

If any of them covered the fire, it was during headline breaks. I came looking because I wanted to see continuous coverage. I found no coverage.

I know these shows are repeated later in the evening and I assume breaking news makes it much more difficult to run them intact during West Coast prime time. Still, this was the bread and butter of cable news a few years ago.

I’ll bet if any one of them would have broken in, they all would have.

&#185 – I loved Deborah Norville when she was on the radio. She was really charming and quite witty. I’m not sure I’ve ever watched more than 10 consecutive seconds of any of her TV shows. Isn’t it strange how that works?

Is Enya Gonya?

My long distance phone tsuris took on an additional wrinkle when I got a note from Sprint… welcoming me as a long distance customer! Hello? I never called Sprint or asked to be changed.

I called Sprint. All they knew was I was being charged $.40 per minute and owed around $40! Oh – they couldn’t help me unravel this… but if I changed to them they’d pro-rate me to $.05 per minute (I’m paying under $.03). I’d have to commit for 90 days. Isn’t that extortion?

It was getting ridiculous. Call after call after call to GTC Telecom went unanswered. I have spent at least 4 hours, maybe more, on hold to them. I have heard more Enya music on hold than any human should be subjected to.

Lucky they get a good rate on their 800 number.

I decided to give it one more try at 3:00 AM EDT. I figured it was too late for Easterners to call… and getting late for most of the West Coast. It paid off. Within ten minutes I was on the phone to India and speaking with Andrea.

As with Keith the last time, Andrea is probably not her real name. For some reason these outsourcing companies feel we’ll be reassured if at least the name rings American… even if the accent and speech patterns don’t.

Andrea was wonderful She was calm, polite, seemingly concerned. She was the Stepford wife of customer service agents.

I want to complain about her, about my interminable wait, about the Enya music on hold… but she was totally disarming. And, she said she’d take care of everything.

I’ll report back. I’m not shy.

Are There Two Floridas?

Hurricane Ivan looks like it will do a pirouette and pass through the narrow Yucatan Channel without directly touching Cuba or Mexico. That means it will maintain much of its strength that much longer (though interaction with environmental winds will take some of the punch out of Ivan over the next few days).

People in the Florida Keys and the East and West Coasts are beginning to relax, having dodged this bullet. TV coverage may begin to slack off too, because areas with the greatest connection to the Northeastern United States are off the hook.

Hold on. This storm is not over. And just because Biloxi and Mobile are not well known up here doesn’t mean they’re not substantial and important.

Ivan continues to have the potential to be the worst killer in the United States of the storms that have touched us this year. Yes, my parents and friends are in the clear. Still, there is no joy in following this storm.

Another Evening With Frances

There is one thing that has been established beyond the shadow of a doubt this week. Everyone has a connection to Florida. Whether it’s a friend or relative, someone living there or just visiting, we all have an equity stake in Florida.

Wherever I go people ask me about Hurricane Frances. We’ve all seen what happened on the West Coast of Florida, and this storm promises to be stronger. It’s no surprise that it scares the daylights out of normally unflappable people

Today, for the first time, the computer guidance is beginning to agree. I’ve been pointing to Jupiter/Hobe Sound and the official pronouncements aren’t far off that mark. Of course the hurricane actually has to perform as forecast… to ‘verify’ in the vernacular of meteorologists, which is never guaranteed.

A few things struck me this evening.

On-the-air, we played an ABC report which included an interview with, what I suspect, a government official in the Bahamas. He complained that maybe they had underestimated the storm.

What planet is he on? The predictions for the Bahamas couldn’t have been more dire if we had said a fiery meteor was plunging their way! The Hurricane Center, which cooperates with the government of the Bahamas in hurricane prediction, went out of its way to scare the crap out of Bahamians – and for good reason.

Unfortunately, areas with a lot of tourism often underplay warnings and later downplay damage. It’s not good for business. Not many people are going to want to go to San Salvador Island after today’s report of 120 mph sustained winds. Nassau might get a close scare. Freeport could get a direct hit.

I really miss having radar that sees Frances at this stage. Tonight the satellite imagery started showing some ‘weakness’ on the hurricane’s western flank. I commented to my friend Bob that I thought the storm would be downgraded… and it was at 11:00 PM&#185. Now Frances is Category 3.

It’s funny, but when satellite imagery begins to show a change, it doesn’t strike me as soon as the image actually comes in. It usually takes a while, staring at the satellite loop, before the trend takes hold. This is most frustrating, especially during winter storms, when I go on the air then look at the same data after my weathercast and begin to question impending changes.

The fact that Frances is weaker tonight doesn’t mean too much of anything. Storms naturally get weaker and stronger in response to their immediate environment. There are guesses why it happened, but no one knows. Hurricane experts are baffled by unknown forces all the time. And, for some unknown reason, hurricanes only have a finite amount of time they can spend as major storms. Again, no one knows why nature works this way.

Since all of weather is guided by the laws of physics, we should understand all the forces at work. We do not.

The official forecast is for Hurricane Frances to regain strength in its final march over open water to Florida. The Hurricane Center’s number for Saturday at 8:00 AM EDT is 140 mph, equaling Hurricane Frances strongest point.

It really doesn’t matter. The difference between 125 mph and 140 mph isn’t all that much in the general scheme of things. Even a minimal hurricane will cause significant damage.

More than the wind, I am worried about Frances losing her steering currents and wandering aimlessly, or at a very slow speed, in the warm Atlantic waters between the Bahamas and Florida. An extended period adjacent to land might be worse than a quick, but direct, hit. There will be that much more time for flooding and tornadoes and wind. The forecast will become exponentially more difficult (and less accurate). There will be that much more terror.

&#185 – I have no idea how this happened, but the Hurricane Center issued its 11:00 PM bulletin with the wrong wind speed! Frances was called Category 4, though it had been downgraded to Category 3. You would think something like this would be vetted.

Living on Hawaiian Time

I don’t know how I got into this. I don’t know how to get out of this… or even if I should. I live my life on Hawaiian time.

I suppose that’s not a bad thing to do if you’re living on Maui, but I’m somewhat removed to the right on most maps.

This time of year Hawaii is 6 hours behind Connecticut. So, when I go to bed at 4:30 AM EDT, it’s really 10:30 PM in Hawaii. When I get out of bed at 1:00 PM, that’s 7:00 AM in Hawaii.

Where this starts becoming a problem is in those pesky interpersonal relationships. Who exactly can I call at 3:00 AM if I’m looking for company? I have a few West Coast friends who are awake, but with my hours I’m often scared to call even them.

Things were great when my friend Farrell was in Singapore. It varies through the year, but they are mostly 12 hours ahead of us. When I would get on the computer at midnight, Farrell would be getting ready for lunch – the next day. I could even call (having found a calling card that made Singapore a few cents a minute).

When you think about it, I’m not really that far out of line. If the average person gets home at 6:00 PM and goes to sleep at 11:30 PM, that’s 5:30 awake at home. I get home around midnight and only stay up for 4-4:30.

People call during the day and are apologetic when they wake me. I can’t complain. You would think it’s safe to call someone at home around noon.

More on Charley

After spending much of the day studying Charley, I continued through the evening. The amount of data is astounding. No one person could ever absorb it all in real time.

I have a few friends who email or IM me through these periods. I reciprocate, though I’m afraid I import more than I export.

There’s recon and imagery and models. Information is always conflicting. Nothing is simple or straightforward. It sometimes seems as if similar storms act differently under the same conditions.

They’re just too complex, and then planted in any equally complex and variable environment.

Watching a hurricane is like watching a car accident, in slow motion. Looking at my charts and maps, I have a pretty good idea what’s going on in relatively real time. Punta Gorda and the Fort Myers area were getting pounded.

Even in shelters, it had to be a once in a lifetime afternoon of terror for anyone there.

By 10:00 PM we were starting to see enough video from Florida’s West Coast to know it had been awful. A roof being blown off a post office. Homes shattered. Trees snapped. We haven’t seen anything from the barrier islands. It must have been awful.

The storm maintained enormous strength, even as it moved across Florida. The wind gusted to 92 mph at Orlando International. That’s impressive.

By the time Charley reached Daytona Beach the radar was starting to show an eye that was more implied than seen. Now Charley’s in the Atlantic, warm, though not anywhere near as warm as the Gulf.

More Charley

It must have been a shock for people on the West Coast of Florida to wake up this morning and find that Charley was going to hit the coast a little farther south than expected. Instead of Tampa Bay, the storm headed to Port Charlotte, Punta Gorda and Fort Myers.

As soon as I woke up this morning I switched on the computer and started to look at the radar, then surface observations, then the computer models.

I bet this kind of weather ‘spikes’ the ratings at The Weather Channel. Personally, I can’t watch. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I like a lot more detail. This is not to take away what they’ve accomplished as far as making a name for themselves. I’m just not their target.

As was the case last night, the Weather Service NEXRADs did an fantastic job in displaying this storm. The eye was tight and circular – the sign of a strong hurricane.

As I’m typing this, I’m looking at the Tampa radar, still seeing the eye of the storm as it approaches Orlando. That it still has a discernible eye this late in the game surprises me.

Now it heads this way. Even though it won’t be a hurricane there might be enough storm left to worry about for Sunday. You know what – even if there isn’t, I’ll worry anyway. That’s what I do.

Cousin Michael

Over the past few months, and more so recently, I have renewed my friendship with my cousin. That’s not a big deal in most families. My family is very small.

My dad is one of three children, my mother two. Much of my mother’s extended family never made it through World War II. I shudder to think of their fate.

I have one sister and she has three children. None of us live near each other.

My sister’s in Wisconsin – her children away at school most of the year. My folks are in Florida, living the ‘Club Med for Seniors’ lifestyle. Uncle Murray is still in Queens, New York – but his children are in Maryland, Florida and California. You get the point.

And then, there are the relatives I don’t speak with. I won’t go into it here, but it’s my guess every family has its dysfunctionality. Us too.

Cousin Michael was among my closest friends growing up. Through our late teens, in the late 60’s, we were together all the time traveling with friends to Manhattan on Friday’s and Saturday’s to see rock acts at the Village Theater (aka Fillmore East).

Michael was there when I saw Grateful Dead and Moby Grape on the bill with the Joshua Light Show. For a few bucks we saw dozens of shows in that ratty old theater with torn seats on the Lower East Side.

I remember summer evenings with Michael and our friend Larry, taking the subway to Greenwich Village and then walking down McDougall Street past the record stores and head shops. Sometimes stopping at Blimpies for a meal.

In those politically charged years we talked lots of politics. The Vietnam War was raging, and we were of the age to worry about being asked to go there, Michael, who was bolder than I, was much more active. We were all opinionated.

When I left for college, and then a few years later moved to Florida, we drifted apart. It’s only now that I am hearing about what he did during those years. His life would make a pretty compelling book. It would be interesting as fiction – but as a true life tale, it’s fascinating, spiced with familiar names in unfamiliar surroundings.

Michael’s life is very different now. He and his wife Melissa, and their son Max, live on the West Coast. Over the years, Michael mastered the art of education, and has all manner and form of degrees. A few weeks ago he added a PhD to his collection.

I think being married and having a child has been really good for Michael. I’m confident Michael is good for them too.

Recently, Michael and I have been spending more time together on the phone. It’s a shame he lives so far away. I get the better of the deal, calling when my minutes are free – and his probably not.

He is intellectual and analytical a good conversationalist and good sounding board. It’s a shame we lost so many years of friendship.

He, Melissa and Max will be joining us for vacation this summer. I’m looking forward to seeing them again. Las Vegas is not Greenwich Village. Though maybe, in 2004, we go to Las Vegas for the same reasons we went to Greenwich Village. I’m sure we’ll have this discussion later.

Another Slashdot Submission

My luck with Slashdot has not been good recently. I had a bunch of my earliest submissions accepted and began to think it was easy to get on. No such luck. Since February I have had 15 in a row rejected.

I really don’t want to give up, because Slashdot, like no other website, is ‘geek confirmation.’

Today, I tried again. Since (judging by my track record) it probably won’t get on, I thought I’d post it here too. The links are worth clicking.

For most of the United States (sorry West Coast), this is the season for lightning. It is as powerful as it is spectacular to look at. It is destructive too – by itself or through the hail, straight line winds and tornadoes that often accompany it. As someone who forecasts the weather, I’m often asked about lightning. As you might imagine, there’s plenty to see about lightning on the Internet. The conditions necessary and a little bit of the physics behind lightning are explained by Jeff Haby, a meteorologist (one of my professors actually) at Mississippi State University. Once forecasters get a handle on what’s going on, they put the word out through the Storm Prediction Center. Regular outlooks are issued by SPC for severe storms. Once those storms rear their ugly heads, they’re followed with mesoscale discussions looking at the active areas. The Storm Prediction Center is also the place where Severe Thunderstorm and Tornado Watches are issued and storm related damage reports are compiled. Lots of hobbyists like to track lightning strikes on their own, and there’s equipment available to do just that. Getting hit by lightning is never fun, though not always fatal. National Geographic chronicled an amazing story of a lightning strike, and rescue, on Grand Teton.