Catching Up After A Soggy Week
I'm tired, and my hamstrings are killing me.
Yours maybe are, too, especially if you've been spending the past couple of nights bent over your sump pump crock watching the water rise and fall, praying that the electricity stays on lest your basement turn into a trout pond.
The rough stuff is gone, but the after-effects remain for way too many people guilty only of having built a home or run a business in a part of Milwaukee that got seven inches of rain in an hour.
I asked meteorologist Craig Koplien the week before last about the inkling I've had about this summer and the fact that we no longer get an afternoon shower or a mere blast of heavy rain--every dark cloud seems to hold the potential for ruinous amounts of precipitation or twister-generating fury. It inspired a column in the Journal/Sentinel pretty much discounting my premise that a gentle summer shower ever really existed.
Events of this past Thursday would prove Craig right.
My basement stayed dry and I hope yours did too. Having been through a sump-pump-killing power outage 11 years ago and the great storm of '08, I share your pain if you've had to deal with indoor water. It sucks, plain and simple.
With the meteorological events of recent days, a few things might've slid under the radar. I'm inclined to opine, if you don't mind, and invite your comments.
--Bob Uecker returns in mid-season form, and Brewers Nation is a better place. No knock on those who tried to fill his shoes, but the master is indeed, THE MASTER. Long may he have a spot in the Miller Park press box.
--They must not serve meds to Milwaukee County Jail inmates. That, or Anthony Peters needs to have his dosages upped, big time. Not only did he club Mayor Tom Barrett to within an inch of his life, but we come to learn at Peters' sentencing that he threatened his victim's niece from behind bars for having the audacity to dial 911 as Peters was liberally applying a tire iron to her uncle's head and right hand that night in August of 2009. Peters' courtroom apology was lame, reeking of the remorse that comes not from true repentance but rather from the misfortune of having been caught for wailing on a high-profile victim. The word "punk" falls woefully deficient, unless it's preceded with the adjective "gutless". Here's hoping Peters serves every nano-second of his 12 year sentence. And, he's wishing that if I'm in a similar bind, someone with the stones of Tom Barrett is there to try to bail me out.
--Summer used to be where prime time TV went to die. Cable says otherwise. Quality shows like "Rescue Me" and "Mad Men" make staying indoors on a hot summer night tolerable. "Dexter" returns soon, and then the networks are back with their usual autumn enticements. Plus, if you missed anything or want to get caught up, you have the wonder of Hulu and the Internet. There's a ton of crap of TV, to be sure, but a bazillion chances to get caught up on the quality fare that might've slipped through your personal viewing wickets.
My sump pump whirs as I prep for bed and the start of a fresh work week. May yours be dry and, if it's too late for that. may your cleanup be prompt and insured.