Stuck In The Mud (Or, Storm Chasing Retrospection)

And I thought WE had a couple of close calls near Wakita, Oklahoma...

About six weeks removed from my first storm chasing expedition, I've observed this tornado season with far closer interest than years past -- and I've been pretty damn interested every year since I was 12. The reasons are many: (1) I know where to look for and how to interpret "inside" information (i.e., not The Weather Channel), (2) I'm now friends on Facebook with several chasers, and (3) it was a pretty active season anyway.

One of the more impressive videos I've seen came from a late-May outbreak in South Dakota. You probably saw this on the news, but Reed Timmer and Co. at tornadovideos.net were there to get some amazing shots:



One story I followed vicariously from afar on Facebook makes my heart-thumping chase look like a walk in a boring, tornadoless park. Last Saturday, while I was moving to a new apartment (I kinda would rather have been chasing), the tour guides from my chase (Olivier "Klipsi" Steiger and Dave Holder) and their last tour group navigated their way into the path of a supercell near Concordia, Kansas.

I've heard that the road network in central and western Kansas is less than ideal, forcing chasers to take the back roads, where not a trace of asphalt nor concrete can be found: it's ALL dirt. Rough, dusty roads are difficult enough to navigate. Add torrential rains to the mix, and you get loads of mud. Not friendly to big, bumbling vehicles like our old tour van.

I'm sure I'm leaving out details (I'm going by Klipsi's wall posts on Facebook), but this is what I gathered. After finding themselves directly in the path of a pretty substantial twister about a half-mile away, road conditions deteriorated underneath them, as they found themselves inundated in 3-5 inches of mud, completely immobile. Just how close were they? Well, their position is the white dot in the following images from radar:


See that giant hook at the southwest corner? That's where the tornado was. Even more clearly:


Image credits: Olivier Steiger, http://www.klipsi.ch
See the adjacent bright red and bright green spots? That's called a "velocity couplet", a clear sign of very strong rotation. Again, the white dot...not so far away.

At the last moment, they abandoned the van and hopped onto a passing truck, out of harm's way, and later returned to find the van relatively unharmed. But MAN, what a rush that must've been.

Now, as I've said before, this Klipsi dude's seen a lot and has lived through some pretty sticky situations. But his untouched wall post accompanying the latter radar image says it all: "and here is the velocity... couplet, anyone ? again, white ring is our stuck-in-mud position.... hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahha.... ABANDON VAN, NOW !"

From all of this, in addition to my own experiences, I draw a single conclusion: I AM SO THERE NEXT YEAR. Because sitting in front of a computer in an office is all well and good...but at some point it really starts to feel like you're stuck in the mud.


"Never. Stop. Chasing." -- Reed Timmer

My Bad

The world lost a humanitarian over the weekend. A very, very, very tall humanitarian.

Manute Bol, a 7-foot 7-inch Sudanese native who played professionally in the NBA for 10 years, died on Saturday at the age of 47 as a result of kidney issues and a rare but serious skin disorder. After John Wooden, that makes two quiet basketball legends that we've lost in the month of June.

He wasn't the most capable offensive threat, but his defensive presence speaks for itself. Naturally, at such a ridiculous height (tallest in NBA history) and with an 8'6" wingspan, it was difficult for even the most gifted athletes to loft a jump shot or layup over his outstretched hand. He averaged 8.6 blocks per 48 minutes, an NBA record that far outpaces any other freakishly tall player.

Sure, before Saturday, Manute Bol was simply the answer to a trivia question to me. But he was so much more than that to so many other people. Kevin Blackistone recounts his charitable efforts to help save his homeland from the evils of war, building schools, donating money, and giving hope to millions:

"Bol, mostly alone, was using his spare time away from his day job -- blocking shots and shooting three-pointers as a 7-feet-7-inch NBA center -- trying to save the young people in his native war-torn Sudan. He was a Dinka tribesman, a people in southern Sudan that in the early 1980s suffered displacement and massacre not unlike what the people of Darfur have gone through the past several years. ...

"Bol supported the rebel movement by giving it an estimated $3.5 million. He lobbied members of Congress for U.S. intervention against what he thought were northern Sudan extremists. In 1996, a cease-fire was achieved."

Obviously, these were his most important contributions as a human being, but Bol apparently changed the world of linguistics, of all things, by unofficially coining the colloquial phrase, "My bad". The earliest sources in 1989 credit Bol with saying the phrase as a substitute for "My fault", or something of the like. I suppose this sort of grammatical quirk is natural, coming from a man whose first language was certainly not English.

That was over twenty years ago, and here we are today. "My bad" is heard all over the country (world?) on asphalt slabs that host pickup basketball games, and it certainly has permeated our language beyond the basketball courts. But does it have staying power, like the word "cool"? Dr. Larry Horn, a linguistic professor from Yale University, explores:

"It's hard to predict which words or phrases will stick. 'Cool' is one example of a word that filled a need. It's been around since at least the 1940s--it probably began with jazz musicians. It filled a slot that no other word really filled. But 'My bad'? We already have 'My fault,' so I don't know if there's a real need for it."

I disagree. But get back to me in 2050.

Pop's Day

Channeling the Man in Black to honor all the dads out there on Fathers' Day:



By the way Pop, if you're reading this, thanks for not naming me Sue.

Filling Holes

Self-discovery can come slowly. And sometimes, even if it feels like you’re close to a breakthrough, you can be miles away without realizing it. On the other hand, if it feels miles away, you could be knocking on the door.

I experienced an epiphany a few weeks ago. Out of nowhere, a pastor who I know quite well extended an invitation for me to become a youth counselor. The possibility intrigued me, but I hesitated for obvious reasons:

(1) Could I give such a position the time and attention it deserves? (2) Was I ready to bear the responsibility of being a powerful influence over a child or teen? (3) Would I be able to say the right things in any given situation? (4) I do the church thing occasionally but definitely have a long way to go. Did I have the spiritual knowledge, etc., to qualify me for this gig?

All valid concerns, but the pastor gave me an entirely different reason to question myself. After addressing the above points, he cautioned, “If you want to do this in order to fill a hole in your life, then it’s likely that this isn’t right for you.”

Since hearing those words, I’ve pondered them frequently, trying to understand exactly what they meant. Immediately, they made sense in the context of my decision. Still meandering down the path of self-discovery and maturity, it was apparent that one of the reasons I was considering the counselorship was indeed to fill a hole in my life. As such, I would risk becoming overly dependent on the satisfaction I might get from the position (or maybe overly exasperated) to the point where it might adversely affect my ability to carry out my responsibilities. It was quickly obvious to me that I should pass.

Then, I began to generalize this idea. There are probably many serious undertakings in which a similar approach should be made: if you’re doing something simply to fill a void, then you should think twice about going through with it. Relationships come to mind. So do other forms of volunteering and, in certain contexts, career moves. In each of these situations, it’s healthier to develop a stronger foundation first, at which point you’re ready to tackle the implications of filling the “larger” holes.

However, using this philosophy as a universal reason to avoid trying new things in general is an overcautious way to live, to be sure. Besides, if you follow this too strictly, you end up in a catch-22 situation. How can you fill the holes in your life if you need to be “hole-less” before you are qualified to fill them? By that logic, you’re stuck in an unending cycle.

I think you can draw the line here: if an attempt to fill a hole by taking on a new challenge might significantly affect others’ lives, to the point where a sudden change or your overdependence on the presence of that challenge could negatively affect others around you, then you should think more carefully.

So here was my conclusion: say you’re meandering down that path of self-discovery, still working to fill certain holes in your life. First, aim to seal the smaller holes with individual tasks and responsibilities. Eventually, and naturally, you’ll be able to do things like a youth counselorship -- or any of those important things you could use to fill the “larger” holes.

At least now, I’m still early in my journey, and at times the road to self-discovery seems miles, counties, states away. But as far as I know, maybe it’s just around the bend. And while the holes may at times seem as gaping as that sinkhole in Guatemala City a few weeks ago, maybe they’re just a little more manageable.

Friend Request

Non Sequitur, by Wiley Miller

Slow Down

The skyrocketing fox population in rural England apparently is cause for concern among speeding automobilers:


Which obviously begs the question: what OTHER hilarious signs are out there to entertain us on those lonely highways?




I think this one's my favorite, but I have no idea why:

Stir It Up

Hurricane season started today. Uh oh.

The Atlantic Basin got a little bit of a reprieve last year: only nine named storms and three hurricanes. And on top of that, the hurricanes were named "Bill", "Fred", and "Ida". I mean come on, did anyone REALLY feel threatened by that?

People way smarter than me are predicting much more activity in the coming months. Water temperatures are at record highs. On top of that, a weak El Nino is depriving the atmosphere of strong upper-level winds necessary for wind shear, which is really effective at ripping the heart out of tropical cyclones before they can get their juices really flowing. Add it all up, and NOAA is predicting up to 14 hurricanes, 7 Category 3 or higher.

All of that could translate to one of the more active seasons in history -- although hopefully nothing ever outdoes 2005, which spawned monster after monster in the Gulf of Mexico (Katrina, Rita, Wilma) en route to running out of names, forcing us to use the Greek alphabet to name storms 22-27.

And that's not even speaking of the BP oil spill off the coast of Louisiana (Day 43 and counting). Sure doesn't sound good, does it? Could the spill throw a monkey wrench into the 2010 hurricane season, or vice versa?

NOAA released a nice little write-up on the subject. There are a lot of variables and possible outcomes. The spill probably wouldn't have much effect on hurricane development. On the other hand, a hurricane could actually disperse the oil more quickly by chopping up the water with high winds and seas. Or it could drive the oil inland via storm surge, depending on the track of the storm.

The worst storm surge is typically found in the eastern eyewall. Think about it: if the storm is rotating counter-clockwise (as it always will in the northern hemisphere), then the eastern side of the circulation is where seawater would most forcefully be pushed onto shore. Thus, if a hurricane slammed Louisiana, bypassing the oil slick slightly to the west, the results could be disastrous for the Louisiana wetlands. On the other hand, if one were to track over the Florida panhandle, the oil could be pushed back into the Gulf.

It seems unlikely that this question will go unanswered for too long. But you never know: ironically, maybe a couple of good tropical cyclones is all the Gulf needs to more quickly rid itself of this disaster.

P.S. On a related note, as I was browsing aimlessly through Wikipedia earlier tonight, I found this picture of a Hurricane Hunter flying in the middle of Katrina's eye. Is that not the craziest thing you've ever seen?

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ADDENDUM: A new report released today estimates that the oil will invade the Atlantic coast of Florida "within weeks" and disperse through the Atlantic basin by the end of July. Helpful animation: