Oklahoma is at turns a strange place and a beautiful one. I love the colors of spring. The Bradford Pears are so pretty when they turn white–stink like crazy — but they’re lovely. The Redbuds vary from light pink to deep purple. Pansies pop up everywhere… okay, to be honest, we had such a sad, pitiful winter, some never left. The fescue we just settled around the trees is so dark a green and looks so soft, I want to lie on it and dream.
But then you have the constant, stupid, why-must-spring-always-be-like-this freaking tornadoes!!!
Last night was a typical spring evening. Since we needed to keep an eye on the weather, we watched local channels instead of the movie ones. Still watched a movie, tho. Something with Tommy Lee Jones and Jeff Bridges and all these lyrical Irish accents. I’m a sucker for anything Irish. (Boondock Saints, anyone?)
But it is so, so hard to get lost in the fiction when you have this constant little Oklahoma shaped reminder of oncoming violence in the corner.
We have to flip back to channel 4 often to catch David Payne — my favorite weather guy who is way more amusing than that Gary England — chasing the storms and offering us exciting, breathless commentary.
Hail. Strong winds. Wall clouds. Slow, creeping red blobs on the map with anxious, newsman prattle. Yay.
So, the hubby and I amused ourselves by reading town names.
Gotebo, OK — all long vowels, said fast. Trips on the tongue. It especially sounds nice coming from someone with a heavy southern accent. I’ve lived all over the US so most of my accent is long gone. I was pronouncing this with clipped consonants and then I heard the real, Oklahoma rolling version. Goteebow.
Corn, OK — don’t know why but it’s gross. It is. Why can’t I think of food here?
Love, OK — sweet, but why? Think about it. I live in Love. I settled in Love. I’m planning to out-sell Thich Nhat Hanh in book sales about love. (Good book, btw Teachings on Love) Wait, you think hippies named the town?
Happyland, OK — Hahahahah– Maybe late 19th century and early 20th century hippies really did exist and settled the whole darned state! I dunno. Hippies are pretty laid back and we did have all those sooners…
Vernon, OK — the guy in the Braum’s commercials. Wasn’t he in a movie? Wait, wasn’t he the guy we never saw in those commercials? Hey Vern. Who the heck was Vern?
Dibble, OK — A little dibble do ya. (Sheepishly beg forgiveness for this one.)
Hydro, OK — sounds like something in one of my sci-fi stories. Though Jack knew the maneuver wouldn’t tip the scales in his favor, he aimed his gun at the pilot’s head. It lifted one knobby eyebrow. Thing was a Hydro, a lightweight alien filled with the kind of fluid he really didn’t want loose in such a small craft, so they both knew it was all show. Shit.
Okemah, OK — kind of cool. Like an alien greeting. (Okay, so I’m on an alien kick–blame it on all the Phillip K. Dick I’ve been reading.)
Anyway, the movie got sad, so of course I’m bawling right around the time the storm hit.
Tip: Crying when there’s a big, noisy storm does not make for calm children.
No worries. I smiled through my tears and pointed at the movie. As soon as they left the room, we turned it back to the news. The winds were pretty strong– sounded like huge (alien–just kidding) ghosts moaning. The rain was so loud, it won the battle for auditory dominance.
Man, it would have been exciting if it weren’t for the threat of freaking tornadoes!!! I love storms, but after May 3rd, 1999, tornadoes are too scary.
Pic from that day.
So, I stayed up late until the “watch” was over. I watched Saturday Night Live and decided I wanted a Swedish Muppet chef ringtone. Around 11:30, I took a break to battle a huge wasp upstairs– btw, isn’t it early for these things? Did our pathetic winter help them to triple their evil number? Will there be a repeat of last year’s continuing battle with the hundreds of nests around the attic? Since there is a big window in my entry that shows the upstairs landing, did any of my neighbors see my screaming, girly dance with the broom?
But, there was a wonderful shining moment in all this. My battle left me wide awake, so I picked up my copy of Apex Digest #4 Apex Science Fiction and Horror Digest. I’ve been savoring these well-written stories and no, I’m not just saying that because I shared space with their editor in the last issue of Surreal Magazine. If I didn’t like it, I’d just never bring it up. (g)
But, I read Erasure by Jennifer Pelland. Holy crap that woman can write!! This would make one kick-ass scary movie! So, before sleeping, I sent out two cosmic wishes — one to “intelligent” moviemakers. The other was a mere plea to keep that character out of any dreams I might have…