A bit of overnight rain sent me scurrying once again into the weather archives. Barely more than a month ago, local precipitation totals put San Diego in contention for its driest season ever. Then, in mid March, the rain began. Since then, the city has seen just enough of the wet stuff to take it out of the running for any records, currently falling no lower than 9th driest season at 4.64 inches. And odds are good that’s where it will stay. The average daily rainfall in a typical May is less than 0.01, June is lucky to see 0.09 inches in the entire month, and the weather season begins anew on July 1.
Temperatures in San Diego have fallen just short of normal in recent months, too. The average temperature in March fell around 62 degrees. In April, we’ve topped 70 degrees only twice, with the average daily temperature hugging 66 degrees.
So far, spring in San Diego has been a dark and cool event. That may be all well and good for some folks, but me, I’m miffed. Because, see, it’s April. This is the month that should be supplying the last bit of sunshine and warmth before May Grey and June Gloom hide any hint of blue sky. For the next two months, grey overcast skies will hide the sun and threaten the area with rain that will not fall. That April has chosen to begin the assault a month early is simply unforgivable.
Oh sure, sure, April did set itself apart from the coming months by supplying a bit of beloved rainfall. You’re right. Well, it’s not good enough. A couple hundredths of an inch falling while I’m sound asleep…. Whose side are you on, anyway?
Yeesh.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Ad Nauseum
Another in the line of commercials that just make you shake your head...
This one has been around for a while. The ad is for the seemingly altruistic Scooter Store, supplier of motorized chairs and scooters for those with limited mobility. The store promises to work with the customer's insurance company or Medicare and guarantees that the pre-qualified customer will keep the product at no cost if Medicare denies his claim. All well and good. But to prove the point that no other company will work harder or do more for its customers, the ad shows a personable employee teaching an able-minded older woman how to operate the chair he's just delivered. It's a nice touch... until the woman's TV daughter narrates: "When they delivered Mom's power chair, I expected they'd show her how to use it once or twice. That man stayed for hours!" It's meant to bolster the "whatever it takes, as long as it takes" attitude of the company, but... well... have you looked at the chair? Managing the controls on that thing isn't exactly rocket science. It's a friggin' JOYSTICK! Forward, left, right, back. Ooh... difficult! Predating World War I, it's a concept that's older than the woman in the chair.
Now, I don't know about you, but if my mother needed HOURS of help figuring out that little bit of technology, I probably wouldn't be too eager to greatly improve her mobility. There's just no telling what trouble she'd get into once she figured out door knobs.
I'm just sayin'....
This one has been around for a while. The ad is for the seemingly altruistic Scooter Store, supplier of motorized chairs and scooters for those with limited mobility. The store promises to work with the customer's insurance company or Medicare and guarantees that the pre-qualified customer will keep the product at no cost if Medicare denies his claim. All well and good. But to prove the point that no other company will work harder or do more for its customers, the ad shows a personable employee teaching an able-minded older woman how to operate the chair he's just delivered. It's a nice touch... until the woman's TV daughter narrates: "When they delivered Mom's power chair, I expected they'd show her how to use it once or twice. That man stayed for hours!" It's meant to bolster the "whatever it takes, as long as it takes" attitude of the company, but... well... have you looked at the chair? Managing the controls on that thing isn't exactly rocket science. It's a friggin' JOYSTICK! Forward, left, right, back. Ooh... difficult! Predating World War I, it's a concept that's older than the woman in the chair.
Now, I don't know about you, but if my mother needed HOURS of help figuring out that little bit of technology, I probably wouldn't be too eager to greatly improve her mobility. There's just no telling what trouble she'd get into once she figured out door knobs.
I'm just sayin'....
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Monday, April 10, 2006
Flat Stanley
Lately, I have been working on one of my niece’s school projects. In February, her elementary school class read a book about a boy who was smashed flat by a bulletin board, became a half-inch thick, and discovered that being flat was fun. (I bet he’d think differently if he weren’t pre-pubescent, but I digress). Stanley determined that in his flat state he could slide under doors, hang in picture frames, fly like a kite, and even travel through the mail. Whether Stanley actually did any of those things in the book, I do not know; but I am certain that after my niece constructed her own Flat Stanley, the wafer thin boy did indeed travel through the mail. He arrived, via envelope, at my door in late March, ready for a tour of San Diego.
The purpose of Stanley’s cross-country visit, it seems, is a lesson in geography. Every child in my niece’s class is waiting for the safe return of a flat friend who is expected to bring with him pictures, souvenirs, and tales of his visit away from home. Being somewhat competitive and aware that other Stanleys might be visiting more exotic locales, I felt I had to give my visiting Stanley the grand tour.
First, Stanley visited the closing night performance of … that show I was doing. Rather than watch from the audience, however, Stanley took advantage of his backstage pass and mingled with the actors behind the scenes. He spent the bulk of his time in the men’s dressing room, averting his eyes from the girls changing clothes next door.
For the next few days, Stanley would not venture out. The weather gods had decided that this season would not be one of San Diego’s driest after all, and while the days outside were wet, my hydrophobic paper pal preferred to spend them safely inside. Until the rain abated, Stanley was quite content to bake a small batch of chocolate chip cookies and hang around on the fridge.
After the rains passed, Stanley visited America's largest urban cultural park (Balboa Park), the World Famous San Diego Zoo, the world’s oldest seafaring ship (The Star of India, built in 1863), America’s longest-serving aircraft carrier (The USS Midway, commissioned in 1945), and San Diego’s largest outdoor market (Kobey’s Swap Meet, drawing 30,000 shoppers weekly). He spent a lot of time downtown and near the harbor, so he eventually became more comfortable around water. So comfortable, in fact, that before he packed his things for the journey home, he’d posed with several of the local fountains and bought his own surfboard. Like a true San Diegan, he was ready to catch a few rays and waves.
It was requested that Stanley return home with a change of clothes suitable to the climate he’d visited, so even though he arrived dressed appropriately, tonight Stanley and I will be going about the business of putting together some Californian duds for his trip home. Bright and early tomorrow morning, he’ll be back in the envelope, traveling back to Tennessee, exactly on schedule. There, he’ll join the other Stanleys in teaching a class of elementary school students geography by marking their individual journeys on a map.
I’ve grown fond of the kid. I hate to see him go. Once he’s out the door, I know he’ll never write. He won’t call. He’ll never tell me where his friends went or what they did; I’ll never know how his vacation compared to the others. He’ll have left me behind for good.
*Sob* They grow up so fast.
The purpose of Stanley’s cross-country visit, it seems, is a lesson in geography. Every child in my niece’s class is waiting for the safe return of a flat friend who is expected to bring with him pictures, souvenirs, and tales of his visit away from home. Being somewhat competitive and aware that other Stanleys might be visiting more exotic locales, I felt I had to give my visiting Stanley the grand tour.
First, Stanley visited the closing night performance of … that show I was doing. Rather than watch from the audience, however, Stanley took advantage of his backstage pass and mingled with the actors behind the scenes. He spent the bulk of his time in the men’s dressing room, averting his eyes from the girls changing clothes next door.
For the next few days, Stanley would not venture out. The weather gods had decided that this season would not be one of San Diego’s driest after all, and while the days outside were wet, my hydrophobic paper pal preferred to spend them safely inside. Until the rain abated, Stanley was quite content to bake a small batch of chocolate chip cookies and hang around on the fridge.
After the rains passed, Stanley visited America's largest urban cultural park (Balboa Park), the World Famous San Diego Zoo, the world’s oldest seafaring ship (The Star of India, built in 1863), America’s longest-serving aircraft carrier (The USS Midway, commissioned in 1945), and San Diego’s largest outdoor market (Kobey’s Swap Meet, drawing 30,000 shoppers weekly). He spent a lot of time downtown and near the harbor, so he eventually became more comfortable around water. So comfortable, in fact, that before he packed his things for the journey home, he’d posed with several of the local fountains and bought his own surfboard. Like a true San Diegan, he was ready to catch a few rays and waves.It was requested that Stanley return home with a change of clothes suitable to the climate he’d visited, so even though he arrived dressed appropriately, tonight Stanley and I will be going about the business of putting together some Californian duds for his trip home. Bright and early tomorrow morning, he’ll be back in the envelope, traveling back to Tennessee, exactly on schedule. There, he’ll join the other Stanleys in teaching a class of elementary school students geography by marking their individual journeys on a map.
I’ve grown fond of the kid. I hate to see him go. Once he’s out the door, I know he’ll never write. He won’t call. He’ll never tell me where his friends went or what they did; I’ll never know how his vacation compared to the others. He’ll have left me behind for good.
*Sob* They grow up so fast.