It Was, Truly, the Best of Times. . .

This has been a busy day for me.  Early on, I got word that Leonard Nimoy passed, and I couldn't do any more than share the article with friends and then return to work.  That has bothered me all day.

All day, it has felt as though something was missing.  Though nothing had physically been removed from my life, there was a shadow on the day; an emptiness I couldn't touch.  Perhaps I should digress.

I began watching Star Trek at an exceptionally early age with my mother.  Her more than passive interest in science fiction is, most likely, why I became the science wonk I am today.  Not just shows like Star Trek and Battlestar: Galactica, but also Cosmos, In Search Of, and Nova filled my early years with a wonder that sparked an interest in the Universe and our place in it.  I watched Trek every Sunday and read every one of the novels I could find, knowing Spock was going to figure out how to solve the particular riddle in question for that story.  Who was this Kirk, guy, again?

I learned a great deal from Spock, so comfortable with himself as a person, yet still struggled with not quite fitting into either world of his heritage,  As a very awkward child, myself, I adapted to fit into places I wasn't quite comfortable with, while learning to understand those around who didn't quite understand me.  In a way, this hashed and rehashed character from a styrofoam-decorated 1960s TV show became a teacher and a mentor.  As TV shows went, it was one of the few that had a grounded, noble meaning.  Its meaning was, basically, we can all live together.  As I watched that show, I wondered when that world would finally arrive.  I still do.

People touch our lives in different ways, whether we meet in brief passing or spend a lifetime together.  In essence, Leonard Nimoy was the good friend I had never met.  We all have those, in some form or another.  He was an actor, writer, director, humanitarian, the list goes on.  He touched the lives of many and left his mark on this pale, blue dot of a planet.  The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one, yes, but today the loss of one has diminished us all.

Peace and long life.

A Fluffy Little Meme, a Frosty Little Meme. . .

Good evening, friends.

Tonight, I was intending to speak to you about real-life, real-world fitness.  Instead, thanks to technological issues, we're going to talk about snow.

I can imagine half of you grimacing at the mere reading of the word, since 50% of my following is in a few states where the word "snow" is the rallying cry for everyone in the area to go maul their nearest grocery store for bread and milk.  Snow has been a big hit in the ratings this last few days, because several of you haven't had this much potential for the fluff stuff in a number of years (read: decades).  Ironically, until about dark plus two hours, we of the Hinterland had nary a flake today.

How bad a winter storm system is depends, largely, on your point of view and how well-prepared you are for it.  I remember 1994, when a certain storm was closing in on Louisville and the meteorologist on TV was saying something to the effect of how we would "only see a light dusting" as I was watching it pile up in the back yard.  Having visited snowbound regions before, I react rather calmly to major snow systems compared to others, but I have to say that incident soured my affection for meteorology in general.  Now, living in the extreme north country, snow doesn't bother me when it falls as much as it aggravates me when it hangs around.  In southern climates, people mostly ask "What are we going to do about it", while in the north, people wonder, "where are we going to put this?"

The thing that has surprised me the most, though, is how many people down south actually own snow throwers and plows.  We were lucky to have a singular snow shovel when I lived down there.  Some of you guys have posted pictures and video involving the operation of dual-stage snow throwers.  That's just amazing.

I have done my best to refrain from joking about the reaction to this storm, as it truly is a big deal.  People may poke fun at how an eighth of an inch of snow can totally freeze up a southern state, but from the southerner's point of view, it may as well be a blizzard.  Yes, ten inches of accumulation is called "snowmageddon" in the south, while up north, it may just be "Tuesday".  The difference is preparedness.  Those in the north have the equipment to handle this kind of thing, while in say, Kentucky, for example, you may only have one or two snow throwers in a neighborhood.  A city dependent on garbage truck-mounted plows is going to struggle more with removal techniques.

As for the whole "milk sandwich" joke (which I have only heard from my southern friends, by the way), people can't help but think back to that year when they were snowed in for a week, waiting for the National Guard to come in and help get things moving again.  Does it happen often?  No, but it happened before.  Who knows when it will happen again?  Emergencies happen and people prepare.  Sometimes, unfortunately, we find out about it a little too late, and the local Kroger ends up looking like a set from The Walking Dead.

To all my southern friends, I wish a safe couple of snow days.  Stay warm, play some card games with family and friends, and enjoy the sunshine when it comes out to melt things away.  You'll get it way sooner than I do.  If anyone down there needs some tutoring in snow removal techniques, I'd be happy to help you out.  Classes start Tuesday.