Clinton, South Carolina, Sunday, January 12, 2020, 10:07 a.m.

The weather’s clear. The power has been back on since about 2 a.m. Wi-fi is in and out. DirecTV came right on when I walked into the living room, but then the power blipped, and it wouldn’t reset properly until I reset the receiver. I’m afraid to look outside, but I’m glad I had the tree in my backyard, already wracked by previous lightning, removed last summer.

I won a door prize in the fall that I first thought was some kind of heated coffee mug. It sat in the back seat of my truck for several months until I got some batteries and discovered it was a fluorescent lantern. That came in handy. It enabled me to while away the darkened hours playing my guitar in the lantern’s glow. No telling what would have happened if I’d poured coffee into it.

As times change – for instance, a thunderstorm, let alone a tornado, was unheard of in the winters of youth – and people age, reminiscences – “you remember the time me and you went to that outdoor Willie Nelson concert?” – grow in frequency. This is quite evident to those of you who read this blog.

My long-gone daddy was adept at pulling strings. Once I got to walk the stairs to the top of a ranger tower, where the aforementioned rangers scanned the horizon for forest fires, which, for some reason, seldom happen here but are incinerating Australia. Such matters are undoubtedly handled today by satellite imagery, just as TV weathermen (er, uh, staff meteorologists) no longer sit behind a desk and read the latest scintillating text from the National Weather Service.

The info is better and certainly more colorful. This is balanced because the weather is more erratic.

Last night, before the electricity disappeared, I could see the reddened claw mingling with the green and heading this way. I correctly presumed the howling sirens from uptown were indications of “potential tornadic activity” and not a squadron of enemy bombers. The air raids of today occur mostly in football stadiums.

Damned if everything in this house isn’t going to need resetting. What wasn’t working is back up. What was working is now stopping. The modem lies. Six lights are on. Wi-fi isn’t.

I think I’ll fix some breakfast and see if the wi-fi will fix itself.

 

If you enjoy my insights about racing and other subjects, make a small pledge of support. Rewards are in place for pledges of $5 or more. If 1/10 of my followers and Facebook friends pledge $1 a month, I’ll be set. Read all about it here.

If you yearn for my writing in larger doses, I’ve written quite a few books. Most are available here.

Lightning in a Bottle, the first of my two motorsports novels, is now available in audio (Audible, Amazon, iTunes) with the extraordinary narration of Jay Harper.

My eighth novel, a political crime thriller, is called Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. It’s right up to date with the current political landscape in the country.

My writing on other topics that strike my fancy is posted here.