Storm Prepping And Ringy Dingy Ditching

Storm lanterns hung and hatches battened, waiting for those great big sudsy Southerlies to come ashore and smack us right in the kisser.

We like storms. Clears the head.

This one is supposed to linger a while so we’ve pulled together the necessary survival gear: a supply of Swiss Miss Combat Cocoa for Geezers, Whole Oat Groats, and dehydrated taco fixings because we’re not going without Mexican food even if it is a survival situation.

More than anything, of course, this storm is expected to provide us with some much-anticipated precipitation so we’ve aligned the rain chains, rills, and reservoirs and we’re ready to catch some wet stuff. We’re big on storing some away for those not-so-rainy days.

We’ve also lined up some movies to stream while we wait for our streams to fill, marveling at how good Mercedes McCambridge was as the loyal political fixer Sadie Burke in All The King’s Men and struggling to keep from drawing comparisons from the 1949 movie to our current political climate.

Time changes all but nothing really changes, right?

Take doorbell ditching. Please (Ba-da-bum). Some News24/680 Readers of a Certain Age (ROCAs) may remember the thrill of jumping out of a beery car, dashing up to a stranger’s porch and courageously risking life and limb by ringing the doorbell. Often, this would be done at the home of a paramour who didn’t know they existed, and that beery sedan would be long gone by the time you made it, giggling like the village idiot and thrilled by the sheer danger of the act, back to where your former BFF had parked before abandoning you to a slow death at the hands of an angry father or at least a long walk home.

Today, that cherished tradition remains cemented in our suburban neighborhoods as young people jump out of stealthy cars pumping out a bass line capable of setting off car alarms, and re-create the daring dash of their ancestors – with a few changes just to make things interesting. Today’s kids not only visit a foreign porch, but one or more will linger for several minutes, in some cases beating out the rhythm of a popular song on the windows and doors. This unexpected greeting drives dozing old Former Dingers already wary of intruders ever nearer to myocardial infarction while Ring cameras whir and the family dog loses its ever-loving mind.

So far, these juvenile adventures have not ended in the tortured, prolonged demise promised by their over-the-hill victims, though some former track stars have tried to run down 16-year-olds in the best shape of their lives and sprinting across lawns like fearful gazelles while Mister Bacigalupi starts out strong but soon finds himself outmatched – collapsing in a wheezing, panting heap.

And don’t forget egging and TP’ing, time-honored practices steeped in the rituals of Early Mesopotamia – and indulged in with youthful enthusiasm to this very day.

Yes, there was some of that going on last night, and some more adult skullduggery keeping Prius owners wary and the cops busy.

For our part we settled down with an old friend, took the combat cocoa out for a test ride and rolled through a couple of movies until the wee hours, waiting for the steady pitter patter of rainfall to send us to sleep.