Expedition to Penn Station

You remember that part in Superman II, after Clark has lost all his powers but has to trek back on foot across the snow to the Fortress of Solitude so he can reverse the process and fight the three supervillains?

That’s sort of what the trip to Penn Station was like this morning.

But I made it, and caught the train, too. Now I can fight General Zod with my newly restored superpowers. Would you care to step outside?

Snowminions’ Doom

My army of twelve windowsill snowminions has utterly melted to nothing:

This was taken a day after the Great Snowstorm of February, 2003.

Battlestar Galatter-Day Saints

Sci-Fi is showing Battlestar Galactica, which I haven’t seen since I was a kid.

Or as some like to call it, Mormons in Space. More details here, including the fact that Glen A. Larson was with the LDS. Me, I’m not worried that the background nuances of a late-70’s science fiction could possibly inculcate cultic theology into me, any more than Battlefield Earth could turn me into a Scientologist.

Wow, I never realized when I was a kid that “Starbuck” was also “The Face” on A-Team. Heh.

Work of Your Hands

From the fruit of his lips a man is filled with good things as surely as the work of his hands rewards him.

Well, the worst of the snowstorm has passed, and I’ve just finished shovelling a narrow little valley from the door to the plowed street, cutting through a knee-deep — sometimes waist-deep — sea of soft, fluffy snow. I don’t work with my hands nearly enough anymore, and it feels good — really good, to look out the window and see that clear path winding across the buried sidewalk to the road below. I guess Calvin’s (of Calvin and Hobbes fame) dad was right: shovelling snow does build character.

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.

Heavier Snow

I tried trekking through blowing wind and knee-high snow to the grocery. Wow, it’s pretty extreme out there. And the grocery was closed, too. On the bright side, I have a veritable army of eight nine ten mini-snowmen eleven mighty snowminions guarding my windowsill. (see melt.mov)

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