When folks in Randolph County went to bed on Tuesday night, Feb. 8, the forecast for the next day was for some light snow, with MAYBE an inch of accumulation.
Well, Wednesday came and it snowed, and snowed hard. When it was all said and done about noon, there were six inches on the ground.
I sent an email to my good friend at the National Weather Service Forecast Office in Memphis, which is the office responsible for this area, and I politely asked him just what in the heck happened.
His response was classic. It read, and I quote, "...wouldn't you know." Which I believe was another way of saying, "we blew it."
I think I'll save that and use it on others . If the IRS calls and asks why I didn't pay my taxes, I can just say, "wouldn't you know." Or if I forget to cook supper or miss a deadline or appointment, "wouldn't you know."
I'm glad my tax dollars went to such good use to provide me with a all-purpose convenient excuse when things don't go exactly as planned. It has to work, it has the NWS seal of approval.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
What A Difference A Week Makes
It is about 3:45 on a Wednesday afternoon on this 16th day of February. I just pulled up the National Weather Service (NWS) weather for Walnut Ridge, and it said the actual air temperature was 70 degrees! The Waalnut Ridge Airport is about 10 miles or so south of Pocahontas and is where the nearest automated NWS station is. Whatever the weather is there, chances are pretty good that is what the weather is in Pocahontas, and this afternoon, as we approach 4:00 p.m., it is 70 degrees.
It was just a week ago, last Wednesday, that snow began falling about daybreak. It snowed hard those first couple of hours. The visibility was poor, the driving treacherous. I needed (or so I thought) to take picture of a dinosaur snow animal built by some folks during the snow which fell two days earlier. There home was out state Hwy. 90 about six miles or so west of town.
It was not quite nine in the morning when I headed out that way. The snow had covered the road anad I was just trying t keep it out of the ditch. More than once I wondered just what in the heck was doing. But I made it to the residence, took the picture of the dinosaur (it really did look like one), chatted with the residents, got the necessary info , because after all, you want to be sure and identify everyone correctly, and headed back to town.
As I got ready to pull out of their driveway, a set of headlights started to appear out of the snowy fog. They were up high, so I knew it had to be a truck. It was actually an 18-wheeler carrying some sort of flammable liquid or gas, as I do recall distinctly remember seeing the "flammable" placard on the side of the tanker trailer.
I pulled out and followed him, on one hand thankful he was there, because he would be easy to follow in these near white-out conditions. But on the other hand, I was also thinking, if he unknowingly runs off the road and turns over and explodes, I would be a vapor in seconds. With that in mind, I backed off another few hundred feet, barely keeping him in my sight.
The snow stopped before noon and before it got dark that afternoon the sun actually came out for a bit. But it was bitterly cold and remained that way for a couple of days. Thursday and Friday morning both had lows of three degrees with wind chills below zero. Anyway you looked at it, it was cold.
But then the wind changed and it started to warm up on Saturday. It was near 50, then a few degrees warmer on Sunday. With bright sunshine aand warm southerly winds, the mercury hit the 60-degree mark on Monday and Tuesday, and now here we are on Wednesday and it is 70 degrees!
I am a warm-weather boy, and it is wonderful to feel these spring like temperatures. Yes, what a differenec a week makes.
It was just a week ago, last Wednesday, that snow began falling about daybreak. It snowed hard those first couple of hours. The visibility was poor, the driving treacherous. I needed (or so I thought) to take picture of a dinosaur snow animal built by some folks during the snow which fell two days earlier. There home was out state Hwy. 90 about six miles or so west of town.
It was not quite nine in the morning when I headed out that way. The snow had covered the road anad I was just trying t keep it out of the ditch. More than once I wondered just what in the heck was doing. But I made it to the residence, took the picture of the dinosaur (it really did look like one), chatted with the residents, got the necessary info , because after all, you want to be sure and identify everyone correctly, and headed back to town.
As I got ready to pull out of their driveway, a set of headlights started to appear out of the snowy fog. They were up high, so I knew it had to be a truck. It was actually an 18-wheeler carrying some sort of flammable liquid or gas, as I do recall distinctly remember seeing the "flammable" placard on the side of the tanker trailer.
I pulled out and followed him, on one hand thankful he was there, because he would be easy to follow in these near white-out conditions. But on the other hand, I was also thinking, if he unknowingly runs off the road and turns over and explodes, I would be a vapor in seconds. With that in mind, I backed off another few hundred feet, barely keeping him in my sight.
The snow stopped before noon and before it got dark that afternoon the sun actually came out for a bit. But it was bitterly cold and remained that way for a couple of days. Thursday and Friday morning both had lows of three degrees with wind chills below zero. Anyway you looked at it, it was cold.
But then the wind changed and it started to warm up on Saturday. It was near 50, then a few degrees warmer on Sunday. With bright sunshine aand warm southerly winds, the mercury hit the 60-degree mark on Monday and Tuesday, and now here we are on Wednesday and it is 70 degrees!
I am a warm-weather boy, and it is wonderful to feel these spring like temperatures. Yes, what a differenec a week makes.
Albert Pujols Saga
As I sit at my desk and type this, it is Monday morning, the 14th day of February. About 1,200 miles southeast of here, a number of St. Louis Cardinal pitchers and catchers are having their first day of workouts under the watchful eyes of Manager Tony LaRussa and pitching coach Dave Duncan.
The first day of spring training in a symbolic way, signifies that winter is just about over, that the days are getting warmer and longer, and that flowers, and trees will soon be blooming. It is one of my favorite days on the calendar.
In my younger days, when I was working for TWA, and could fly for nothing, I would head to Florida a couple of times each spring to watch spring training baseball. During the three years I lived in South Florida, heading up to Ft. Myers and catching an afternoon game was my favorite off-day activity.
As spring training begins for my favorite team, there is a dark cloud hovering over the activities in Jupiter, Fla. It is a dark cloud that a year ago, shoot, even six weeks ago, I never thought would happen. But it has, and many members of Cardinal Nation are afraid this spring is the last one that Albert Pujols, the team’s mega-star will be wearing the “Birds-on-the-Bat.”
Albert Pujols is entering the last year of an eight-year, $111 million contract he signed in 2004. For the past decade he has been the game’s greatest player, and as incredible as it sounds, he has been a bargain for the Cardinals the past eight years.
He never complained, never asked to renegotiate, just played baseball, knowing he would have a chance at another big contract down the road.
In a perfect world, the Cardinals would have signed him to an extension last winter. But the club spent a good portion of the winter of 2009-10 trying to resign outfielder Matt Holliday, thus contract negotiations were put on the back burner. Pujols and his agent Don Lozano, told the Cardinal front office, specifically General Manager John Mozeliak, and owner Bill DeWitt, they had no intention of negotiating a new contract during the season, as Pujols did not want the distraction of negotiating while the season was going on.
While there were some negotiations, no agreement was reached, meaning it would be this past off-season before negotiations began again. This was a dangerous gamble for the Cardinals. Sure they knew Pujols would be due a raise, but they were banking salaries would not take a huge jump, and that Pujols would give the Cardinals some sort of “hometown” discount, meaning he would sign for less to stay in St. Louis, than for what he could get elsewhere.
The Cardinals gamble blew up in their face early in the 2010 season, when the Phillies gave a five-year, $125 contract extension to their first baseman, Ryan Howard, who ironically grew up in St. Louis. Make no mistake, Howard is a great player, but he is not in Pujols class, and he would be the first to admit it. But with the Phillies signing Howard to a deal worth an average $25 million a year, it significantly raised the bar on what it was going to take for the Cardinals to re-sign Pujols.
To top it off, the Washington Nationals this off-season sign free agent outfielder Jayson Werth to a seven-year, $128 million contract. Werth has never hit .300, never driven in 100 runs in a season, and only hit at least 30 home runs in a season once. Pujols has done each of those things 10 times. So if Werth is worth the contract he received, how much more is Pujols worth?
So here we are with spring training having started. Pitchers and catchers have reported, and position players will have reported by the time you read this column. Once again, Pujols has said, once I report to spring training, no more negotiating.
The cost is going to be steep, somewhere between $25 and $30 million per year. Amazingly that does not appear to be the stumbling block in the negotiations. From everything I have read, what is causing the problem is the length of the contract.
Pujols will be 31 this coming season. For most major league players, their production begins to decline once they reach their mid-thirties.
It is believed, Pujols is seeking a ten-year contract extension, which would pay him top-dollar through the age of 41. Rumor has it the Cardinals are balking at that, preferring a six or seven-year deal for Albert, preferring to pay him for what they feel are the productive years he has left.
Meanwhile, while all of this is going on, the many members of Cardinal Nation are taking sides. Some say the ownership should just give Pujols what he wants, since after all, he is Albert Pujols. While others, are saying Pujols has become a greedy athlete, trying to get the last dollar he can.
Sunday afternoon, LaRussa said this had potential to be a major distraction. You think?
Up until the last day or so I thought the Cardinals and Pujols would work things out. In fact, I still hope they do, though my confidence in such an agreement-taking place is waning. Pujols has embraced Cardinal history; he respects and idolizes Stan Musial, and is entrenched in the St. Louis community. It is hard to imagine all of that not meaning something to him. Does he really want every last dollar he can get? After all, no matter what contract he signs, he is going to be rich or richer.
I hope the two sides get it resolved. There is no doubt this is going to be an interesting week.
(Originally published in the Feb. 17, 2011 Pocahontas Star Herald
The first day of spring training in a symbolic way, signifies that winter is just about over, that the days are getting warmer and longer, and that flowers, and trees will soon be blooming. It is one of my favorite days on the calendar.
In my younger days, when I was working for TWA, and could fly for nothing, I would head to Florida a couple of times each spring to watch spring training baseball. During the three years I lived in South Florida, heading up to Ft. Myers and catching an afternoon game was my favorite off-day activity.
As spring training begins for my favorite team, there is a dark cloud hovering over the activities in Jupiter, Fla. It is a dark cloud that a year ago, shoot, even six weeks ago, I never thought would happen. But it has, and many members of Cardinal Nation are afraid this spring is the last one that Albert Pujols, the team’s mega-star will be wearing the “Birds-on-the-Bat.”
Albert Pujols is entering the last year of an eight-year, $111 million contract he signed in 2004. For the past decade he has been the game’s greatest player, and as incredible as it sounds, he has been a bargain for the Cardinals the past eight years.
He never complained, never asked to renegotiate, just played baseball, knowing he would have a chance at another big contract down the road.
In a perfect world, the Cardinals would have signed him to an extension last winter. But the club spent a good portion of the winter of 2009-10 trying to resign outfielder Matt Holliday, thus contract negotiations were put on the back burner. Pujols and his agent Don Lozano, told the Cardinal front office, specifically General Manager John Mozeliak, and owner Bill DeWitt, they had no intention of negotiating a new contract during the season, as Pujols did not want the distraction of negotiating while the season was going on.
While there were some negotiations, no agreement was reached, meaning it would be this past off-season before negotiations began again. This was a dangerous gamble for the Cardinals. Sure they knew Pujols would be due a raise, but they were banking salaries would not take a huge jump, and that Pujols would give the Cardinals some sort of “hometown” discount, meaning he would sign for less to stay in St. Louis, than for what he could get elsewhere.
The Cardinals gamble blew up in their face early in the 2010 season, when the Phillies gave a five-year, $125 contract extension to their first baseman, Ryan Howard, who ironically grew up in St. Louis. Make no mistake, Howard is a great player, but he is not in Pujols class, and he would be the first to admit it. But with the Phillies signing Howard to a deal worth an average $25 million a year, it significantly raised the bar on what it was going to take for the Cardinals to re-sign Pujols.
To top it off, the Washington Nationals this off-season sign free agent outfielder Jayson Werth to a seven-year, $128 million contract. Werth has never hit .300, never driven in 100 runs in a season, and only hit at least 30 home runs in a season once. Pujols has done each of those things 10 times. So if Werth is worth the contract he received, how much more is Pujols worth?
So here we are with spring training having started. Pitchers and catchers have reported, and position players will have reported by the time you read this column. Once again, Pujols has said, once I report to spring training, no more negotiating.
The cost is going to be steep, somewhere between $25 and $30 million per year. Amazingly that does not appear to be the stumbling block in the negotiations. From everything I have read, what is causing the problem is the length of the contract.
Pujols will be 31 this coming season. For most major league players, their production begins to decline once they reach their mid-thirties.
It is believed, Pujols is seeking a ten-year contract extension, which would pay him top-dollar through the age of 41. Rumor has it the Cardinals are balking at that, preferring a six or seven-year deal for Albert, preferring to pay him for what they feel are the productive years he has left.
Meanwhile, while all of this is going on, the many members of Cardinal Nation are taking sides. Some say the ownership should just give Pujols what he wants, since after all, he is Albert Pujols. While others, are saying Pujols has become a greedy athlete, trying to get the last dollar he can.
Sunday afternoon, LaRussa said this had potential to be a major distraction. You think?
Up until the last day or so I thought the Cardinals and Pujols would work things out. In fact, I still hope they do, though my confidence in such an agreement-taking place is waning. Pujols has embraced Cardinal history; he respects and idolizes Stan Musial, and is entrenched in the St. Louis community. It is hard to imagine all of that not meaning something to him. Does he really want every last dollar he can get? After all, no matter what contract he signs, he is going to be rich or richer.
I hope the two sides get it resolved. There is no doubt this is going to be an interesting week.
(Originally published in the Feb. 17, 2011 Pocahontas Star Herald
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Super Bowl Recap
You know it’s funny, just because the Super Bowl was played this week, everyone expects you to write about it.
In the past week, I had half or dozen or so individuals tall me they were anxious to read my column this week because they wanted my take on the big game. Just because it is the Super Bowl doesn’t mean I have to write about it. But I will… a little.
The Rams did not make the Super Bowl this year, so I really didn’t care who won, but since St. Louis is in the NFC, and being the loyal fan I am, I rooted for the Packers. I’ll admit, I like Pittsburgh as well. Actually, I liked the fact we had two teams that had been in the NFL for a very long time, and two teams with rich pedigrees doing battle. It had all the makings of a great Super Bowl, and I’m not sure it was great, but it was very good.
I was quite pleased to see the Packers score twice in about 30 seconds late in the first quarter and go up 14-0. I was even more pleased to see them go up 21-3 in the second quarter, and wasn’t really concerned when the Steelers scored a late first half touchdown to cut the lead to 21-10 at the half.
Ok, I’ll admit I started to squirm a little bit when Pittsburgh cut the lead to 21-17, but felt comfortable enough to get more snacks when the Packers made it 28-17 early in the fourth quarte
r.
But here came Big Ben and the Steelers again, scoring another touchdown AND converting a two-point try where Roethlisberger made like a wishbone quarterback and optioning the ball right before he was hit.
The Pack added a field goal to make it 31-25, and the suspense began to mount as Pittsburgh got the ball with two minutes left and started their final drive. But the Packer defense had their big boy pants on and was able to stop the Steelers on fourth-down, and for the fourth time, the Green Bay Packers were Super Bowl champions.
I was pleased.
I was not pleased with the National Anthem.
I am not a fan of hers, but I acknowledge Christina Aguilera has talent, so I did not think anything of it when the NFL asked her to do the national anthem. But good grief, not only did she mess up the words, she skipped a line. When you’re on the big stage, you have to perform to a higher standard.
It was not pretty.
I was not as pleased with the half-time show or the commercials.
The Black-Eyed Peas are a well-known act, but all that glitz and futuristic stuff was just a little too much for me. OK, having Slash show up to play guitar on Guns ‘N Roses “Sweet Child O Mine” was a plus, but I’m sorry, as far as I’m concerned, the rest of the half time gave me a headache. We don’t need pyrotechnics, or performers dropping from the roof, and we certainly don’t need a thousand dancers prancing around and glowing like they have been nuked. Besides, how many people really watch the halftime show anyway?
In my opinion, get some classic rock band, put them out there and let them play.
Personally, I thought the commercials were a little lame as well. Oh, there were a few good ones. I thought the VW ad with the kid playing Darth Vader was exceptional. Nothing like messing with the mind of a 10-year-old. I also enjoyed the Pepsi Max commercial where the wife/girlfriend throws a can of Pepsi at her husband/boyfriend for having wandering eyes. He of course ducks, and the can hits this blonde female jogger (the object of his glances) upside the head, laying her out. It wasn’t really that violent, just funny in a Three Stooges sort-of-way. I could almost hear Curly in the background, with his trademark, “nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.”
I liked the Audi commercial where the jail looked like a posh mansion or hotel or something like that. All the old money folks doing their time. They were rebelling by taking their forks to their crystal champagne glasses, and the warden responded by saying, “quick, cue the Kenny G,” and suddenly the noise stopped replaced by mellow, contented sounds from the inmates. Pretty clever there.
Of course the E-Trade commercials with the infants are always good. You would think we would get tired of them by now, but they keep them fresh and funny. I also liked the Coke commercial with the border guards and the Doritos ad with the bulldog. Very cute.
Ok, maybe they weren’t so lame.
(The above was my column "Bits & Pieces for Feb. 10)
In the past week, I had half or dozen or so individuals tall me they were anxious to read my column this week because they wanted my take on the big game. Just because it is the Super Bowl doesn’t mean I have to write about it. But I will… a little.
The Rams did not make the Super Bowl this year, so I really didn’t care who won, but since St. Louis is in the NFC, and being the loyal fan I am, I rooted for the Packers. I’ll admit, I like Pittsburgh as well. Actually, I liked the fact we had two teams that had been in the NFL for a very long time, and two teams with rich pedigrees doing battle. It had all the makings of a great Super Bowl, and I’m not sure it was great, but it was very good.
I was quite pleased to see the Packers score twice in about 30 seconds late in the first quarter and go up 14-0. I was even more pleased to see them go up 21-3 in the second quarter, and wasn’t really concerned when the Steelers scored a late first half touchdown to cut the lead to 21-10 at the half.
Ok, I’ll admit I started to squirm a little bit when Pittsburgh cut the lead to 21-17, but felt comfortable enough to get more snacks when the Packers made it 28-17 early in the fourth quarte
r.
But here came Big Ben and the Steelers again, scoring another touchdown AND converting a two-point try where Roethlisberger made like a wishbone quarterback and optioning the ball right before he was hit.
The Pack added a field goal to make it 31-25, and the suspense began to mount as Pittsburgh got the ball with two minutes left and started their final drive. But the Packer defense had their big boy pants on and was able to stop the Steelers on fourth-down, and for the fourth time, the Green Bay Packers were Super Bowl champions.
I was pleased.
I was not pleased with the National Anthem.
I am not a fan of hers, but I acknowledge Christina Aguilera has talent, so I did not think anything of it when the NFL asked her to do the national anthem. But good grief, not only did she mess up the words, she skipped a line. When you’re on the big stage, you have to perform to a higher standard.
It was not pretty.
I was not as pleased with the half-time show or the commercials.
The Black-Eyed Peas are a well-known act, but all that glitz and futuristic stuff was just a little too much for me. OK, having Slash show up to play guitar on Guns ‘N Roses “Sweet Child O Mine” was a plus, but I’m sorry, as far as I’m concerned, the rest of the half time gave me a headache. We don’t need pyrotechnics, or performers dropping from the roof, and we certainly don’t need a thousand dancers prancing around and glowing like they have been nuked. Besides, how many people really watch the halftime show anyway?
In my opinion, get some classic rock band, put them out there and let them play.
Personally, I thought the commercials were a little lame as well. Oh, there were a few good ones. I thought the VW ad with the kid playing Darth Vader was exceptional. Nothing like messing with the mind of a 10-year-old. I also enjoyed the Pepsi Max commercial where the wife/girlfriend throws a can of Pepsi at her husband/boyfriend for having wandering eyes. He of course ducks, and the can hits this blonde female jogger (the object of his glances) upside the head, laying her out. It wasn’t really that violent, just funny in a Three Stooges sort-of-way. I could almost hear Curly in the background, with his trademark, “nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.”
I liked the Audi commercial where the jail looked like a posh mansion or hotel or something like that. All the old money folks doing their time. They were rebelling by taking their forks to their crystal champagne glasses, and the warden responded by saying, “quick, cue the Kenny G,” and suddenly the noise stopped replaced by mellow, contented sounds from the inmates. Pretty clever there.
Of course the E-Trade commercials with the infants are always good. You would think we would get tired of them by now, but they keep them fresh and funny. I also liked the Coke commercial with the border guards and the Doritos ad with the bulldog. Very cute.
Ok, maybe they weren’t so lame.
(The above was my column "Bits & Pieces for Feb. 10)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Chimney
This past Saturday was a glorious day. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature rose into the mid-60's. It was a little taste of spring on the last Saturday in January.
Marilyn took advantage of the nice weather and drove up to the Dalton community to visit the Mennonite store. We bought a loaf of fresh-baked whole wheat bread, and had them make us each a sandwich, which we enjoyed outside on the picnic table.
On the way home we decided to take a detour. Instead of heading south on Hwy. 93, I turned left onto Bakerden Road. I really had no idea where I was going to come out, but the sun was shining, the sun roof was open, I had a nearly full-tank of gas, so it really didn't matter. As my Mom would say, we were on an adventure.
For those unfamiliar with Bakerden Road, it winds eastward for several miles from Dalton, hugging the Missouri line eventually ending at Warm Springs. There are few homes and even fewer vehicles on the road, just several cattle farms, as the soil is full of rocks and not suitable for row crops.
About two-thirds of the way to Warm Springs, Marilyn noticed a chimney standing alone in a field off to our left. As we got closer, I slowed and eventually stopped and looked at the solitary structure. It was a chimney, built with different sized and different types of stone blocks. There was no indication a house had been there, but obviously one had at some point.
We stared at the lonely structure for a long time, as if we were studying a Picasso or Rembrandt in a museum, wondering aloud what stories the chimney might tell. There was once a house there. From the construction of the chimney, you could tell it was carefully built. What was the home like? Did the father pain-stakingly build it and then go get his family? What about the family? Were babies born there, and for that matter, did someone die there?
Who were they, what did they do, what was their story? All that was left from their home, was a chimney, still standing proudly in the late January sun years after its construction, serving as a reminder of what was, leaving us to wonder what was, creating more questions than it answered.
The chimney was silent, offering no clues to its past. As we drove off, it grew smaller in the rearview mirror, standing tall over the field it called home, as if it were scanning the distant horizons hoping for the rest of the home to somehow magically reappear.
Marilyn took advantage of the nice weather and drove up to the Dalton community to visit the Mennonite store. We bought a loaf of fresh-baked whole wheat bread, and had them make us each a sandwich, which we enjoyed outside on the picnic table.
On the way home we decided to take a detour. Instead of heading south on Hwy. 93, I turned left onto Bakerden Road. I really had no idea where I was going to come out, but the sun was shining, the sun roof was open, I had a nearly full-tank of gas, so it really didn't matter. As my Mom would say, we were on an adventure.
For those unfamiliar with Bakerden Road, it winds eastward for several miles from Dalton, hugging the Missouri line eventually ending at Warm Springs. There are few homes and even fewer vehicles on the road, just several cattle farms, as the soil is full of rocks and not suitable for row crops.
About two-thirds of the way to Warm Springs, Marilyn noticed a chimney standing alone in a field off to our left. As we got closer, I slowed and eventually stopped and looked at the solitary structure. It was a chimney, built with different sized and different types of stone blocks. There was no indication a house had been there, but obviously one had at some point.
We stared at the lonely structure for a long time, as if we were studying a Picasso or Rembrandt in a museum, wondering aloud what stories the chimney might tell. There was once a house there. From the construction of the chimney, you could tell it was carefully built. What was the home like? Did the father pain-stakingly build it and then go get his family? What about the family? Were babies born there, and for that matter, did someone die there?
Who were they, what did they do, what was their story? All that was left from their home, was a chimney, still standing proudly in the late January sun years after its construction, serving as a reminder of what was, leaving us to wonder what was, creating more questions than it answered.
The chimney was silent, offering no clues to its past. As we drove off, it grew smaller in the rearview mirror, standing tall over the field it called home, as if it were scanning the distant horizons hoping for the rest of the home to somehow magically reappear.
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