Text 13440, 113 rader
Skriven 2008-09-07 23:13:06 av Michael Loo (1:18/200.0)
  Kommentar till text 13406 av Dave Sacerdote (1:123/140)
Ärende: TS Hannah 889
=====================
 DS> Hey, East Coasters...  Hope you're all OK after Tropical Storm Hannah
 DS> yesterday.  We got several inches of rain, some of which is in my
 DS> cellar right now (but no worse than the usual I get during the spring
 DS> thaw) and some wind.  But overall, it was a lot milder than we
 DS> expected, and today is sort of variably cloudy.

I was scheduled out of Boston on the 10:00, connecting in New
York to something at noon - decided to accept an offer of a ride
to the subway at 6:30 (my friend Bill was going to the doctor in
the morning, and anyhow he owed me a favor because I'd made
spiedies for him for dinner and then put up his storm windows)
instead of taking the bus, which is convenient but takes a huge
long time. Got to the subway, and though they were single
tracking it, I caught a train (which ran only every 20 or so)
to the airport station, where a shuttle bus was just pulling in.
Then security took two minutes at most, so I strolled up to the
podium and nonchalantly asked if there were any seats on the
8:00. Yes ... there were even three empties in first class, so
I got one of them. I was sitting there sipping my bottle of
water (free in first, $2 in coach)(I'm not so degenerate as to
tipple at breakfast time except if there's Courvoisier, which
US Air doesn't serve any more) at 7:48.

We taxied out at 7:55 and promptly made a u-turn - the vaunted
Airbus fly-by-wire wasn't working, and the cockpit was unable
to communicate with the right side of the airplane! Maintenance
was called, and after sitting there for half an hour we were
told that another plane was ready for us a few gates away. 
Took off at 9:30, which bodes ill for making a 9:40 connection,
and I was resigned to waiting until noon but noticed that,
wonder of wonders, the 9:40 was delayed until 10:30, and it
was just 10:15, so I made this flight, which was cleverly
rescheduled to be landing in Baltimore about the same time as
the storm was. And so it went. This 25-minute flight on a
little prop plane stretched out to an hour of riding the
strong and capricious wind currents, not counting taxi and
waiting around, so we were smack dab in the middle of the
wind and rain as we landed shortly after noon. I slept for
the first half of the flight (pretty strong water I guess),
but the approach into BWI was about as rocky as you can
imagine, as we twisted and turned and pitched and yawed through
dense overcast. The only way we could tell that we had landed
was because the turbulence stopped. It was pretty remarkable
that they were letting planes land, especially little ones like
this one, but I guess everywhere else was getting pretty bad too.

I staggered to the Greene Turtle, a watering hole by the
Continental gates, where I had a big Yuengling (cheap and decent)
and their signature burger, which was 8 ounces before cooking of
fine-ground not so great meat with some odd filler that made
the thing taste like high school cafeteria food only not so good
(and it cost $9, and came - according to the bartender, who was
a spitting image of my friend Jackie, but twenty years younger
- only medium to medium well; of course, it was precooked and
frozen, unlike the same size same price burger at Bill Bateman's
outside security, which was cooked to order, rare, and juicy:
live and learn). The fries were of a nice texture, crisp on
the outside and creamy on the inside, but they tasted quite
literally like cardboard. The best thing on the plate was the
pickle wedge. I toyed with getting another beer but decided
against it, paying the not insubstantial check (the bartender
called me "sweetie," presumably to get a better tip) and deciding
to treat myself (charging it to the estate) to the SuperShuttle.
Unluckily, there were 3 sharing this van, and I was the farthest,
and the rains didn't help things, and the genial driver decided
to drive very cautiously (we passed a horrendous accident on 95),
and so it was a couple more hours before I made it to the house,
perhaps about fifteen minutes before the Metro would have gotten
me there, and almost dinnertime. The basement was flooded, and
there wasn't any real food in the house, and the winds were
dying down, so I suggested to my brother that we forget the
basement for a while and have an early supper at Guardado's, a
tapas and sangria joint in downtown Bethesda where I have
enjoyed a respectable meal or three.

I got two small plates. Jonathan got two small plates and a
main dish. To make up for it, I had a half pitcher of sangria,
which was better than before, more wine, more juice, less ice.
My two dishes were croquetas, real comfort food - chicken and
ham bits bound with white sauce, formed into little cylinders,
and fried - I believe these were courtesy of the freezer and
Goya; and a demi steak, ordered rare, got medium. Jonathan's
small plates were papas fritas, excellently fried potato
chunks, almost effervescently crisp on the outside, fluffy and
nice - and potato-tasting - on the inside; the ruination was
the serving of two sauces - a blandish tomato sauce and a
blandish garlic mayo - on the potatoes rather than on the side.
This was enough calories for a whole meal, but he also had
chorizo baked with ?manchego cheese, also enough calories for
a whole meal. I helped him a bit with a few cubes of potato,
a couple slices of sausage, and the grease from the sausage
sopped up with the nice crusty house bread, while he was
distracted by his main course: a whole trout, maybe 12 oz,
stuffed with spinach and sided with sauteed squashes of various
colors. I didn't envy him his dish, and he didn't volunteer me
a taste anyhow. How he packs that much food down amazes me.
I had, by the way, suggested that he order modestly. Heh.

By the time we got back to the house, the basement water had
receded nicely, and there were dry spots on the floor. By this
morning, almost all the water had drained away, except for
in a few low places.

No downed branches: little wind where we were, though some
streets a mile or so away were blocked by windfall.

All in all, not a too terrible experience: I hope that our
southern contingent got off as easily.

___ Blue Wave/386 v2.30

--- Maximus/2 3.01
 * Origin: Nocturnal State BBS - nsbbs.darktech.org (1:18/200)