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Less then pleased!
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When we (me and my dogs) got up a while back, we were less than please to discover that the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow. We discovered this a bit past 6am, when we went outside to "do some business."
By "doing business" I mean they needed to do what everyone else needs to do when they first get up: They need to pee!
Peeing is not as pleasant of a task on cold, snowy days. The boys (Freedom and Macky) were reasonably OK with it, because all they needed to do is lift a leg. Sarah, however, being female, does not lift her leg. She squats. And I could see an expression of discomfort as she squatted, hovering just above the snow, and tinkled. As soon as she was finished, she ran (ran!) back to where I stood waiting by the door with my cup of coffee, ran past me, and ran back inside (where it was warm).
I'm sure many of you ladies reading this are sympathetic to Sarah's ordeal. For those of you who aren't, try this: Go outside (without pants) and hover just barely above the snow for 5-10 seconds. You will not only be sympathetic, you will be empathetic.And I bet you run back to the door as well.
 I dislike the snow, and the cold, and everything associated with winter. |  |
Except spiced rum and eggnog. |
When I hear about the polar vortexes coming down to freeze part of the U.S of A. that are rarely frozen, by vortexes or other, I am reminded the time that south Texas got covered in snow, a time fondly remembered as:
Saturday, January 12th, 1985.
When I was in Basic Training, amongst the numerous forms we had to fill out was AF Form 392. Also called a dream sheet, this form allowed to to express your assignment preference to whoever was in charge of assigning you. What you did, using a alphanumeric code to indicate where you would like to be stationed, was select eight locations overseas and 8 locations CONUS (for all you civilians, CONUS means CONtinental United States) and turned the form into the personnel office. It would go into your personnel file, and would be consulted regarding your restationing.
They weren't under any obligation, however, to honor you request(s) - which is why it was called a "dream sheet."
In fact there was a story that there was a super-computer on Randolph AFB (in Texas) which could, based on your choices, determine with uncanny accuracy the one place you didn't want to go. And try to send you there!
Friends call me Snow Miser What ever I touch Turns to snow in my clutch I'm too much! |
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| Macky Rae (my youngest dog) likes Christmas specials, including The Year Without a Santa Claus. He even learned the snow miser dance! |
South Texas. That should be warm, right?Wrong!
Because there are no mountains to slow him down, the Snow Miser (and all his dancing minions) come charging down the great plains at full speed in the winter month, bringing the freezing cold, although rarely, however, does he grace the city of San Antonio with snow.
Which brings us to Saturday, January 12th, 1985.
The first indication that something was wrong was the fact that I was able to sleep late, past oh eight hundred (8am to all you civilians). I could usually sleep as late as I wanted on the weekends, but this was "Warrior Weekend" and I should not have been able to sleep past oh eight hundred.
McDonnell Douglas F-4C Phantom II For those of you who don't know, "Warrior Weekend" is when the Air National Guard and/or Air Force Reserve units come in to do their "one weekend a month." On our base, that was (amongst others) the 182d Tactical Fighter Squadron (Texas Air National Guard).
| I should also mention that the roar of the F4s were also extremely disturbing for those who were hungover. |
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But that morning, the F-4Cs were mysteriously silent.
I got up, showered, and (needing a cup of coffee) went downstairs to the bar (yes, we had a bar in our barracks) where I helped myself to a cup of coffee. It was then that I noticed my friend and co-worker David "Mac" McLaughlin holding a cup of coffee, staring out the window. I poured my own cup of coffee, then went over to the window to see what he was staring at.
It was then that I learned why the Phantoms were silent:
The base had been transformed into a winter wonderland!
I looked out the window to see what Mac was so intently staring at, and I saw the snow. And not just a little snow. Not a light dusting of snow. But lots of snow. Snow Miser (and his minions) dumped well over a foot of snow, not only on our lovely Air Base, but through-out Bexar County.
Mac, who had just transferred from Loring AFB (Maine) was in a daze. As he put it: "I was really looking forward to a winter where I didn't have to deal with @#$% snow."
Yeah, Mac. So was I.So, as we stared out at the flight line and watch Red Horse (the base's civil engineers) pushing the snow off the runway with caterpillar bulldozers.
And the base was lucky to have those. Considering it had been almost 30 years since San Antonio had seen snow, you can be darn sure the nearest snow plow was hundreds of miles away, towards the north.So as Mac and I were watching the snow, that's when Iggy came down, dressed in redneck winter appeal and began filling her 24oz travel mug with coffee.
So, what (you might ask) is an "Iggy"?
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| Scandihoovia |
Iggy is (or was, at the time) an air traffic controller for the Air Force. Iggy's real name is Julie Ingerdahl.
Actually it was Juliette, but DON"T call her that.Ever.
Everyone called her "Iggy" which was derived from her last name (Ingerdahl) and (as you might suspect) with a name like Ingerdahl, you would be correct to assume that she was of Scandihoovian decent.
A Scandihoovian, in case you didn't know, is:a) someone from Scandihoovia, orb) someone who is descended from someone from Scandihoovia.
When one thinks of a Scandahoovian, one thinks of a tall, statuesque Nordic goddess with fair skin, piercing blue eyes and golden hair. And above average breasts, at the very least This description did not apply to Iggy.
Juliette Ingerdahl was 5'2", 110# (wet), freckled face, hazel eyes, and mousy brown hair. And
A counrty girl from Minnesota, she was the youngest of 5 children, and the only girl. Having grown up with 4 older brothers, she knew how to hold her own in an organization that was (and still is) predominantly male oriented.
She could also swear. Her favorite expression, especially when she was drinking, was @#$% you!!
She could also swear. Her favorite expression, especially when she was drinking, was @#$% you!!
I leave it to you to figure out what @#$% means.
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1985 Ford F-250
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Like a lot of servicemen... uh, servicepersons? Like a lot of military personnel, Iggy bought a new vehicle. In her case, a new truck - a Ford F-250, loaded with options and accessories. Including a C.B. radio.
This was, FYI, in the 80s. We didn't have cell phones back then, so if you wanted to talk and drive, you needed a citizen's band radio.
Iggy's truck is important to this story.
So, as I said, Iggy came down, dressed in redneck winter apparel and began filling her 24oz travel mug with coffee.
"You look like your going out for a drive."
"Yeah" Iggy said. "I am going get my hair done."Iggy didn't got her hair done that day.
Like a lot of northerners, the sight of the snow registered in our minds of snow delays. But what we failed to realize at first was that San Antonio was not a northern town, and when it came to snow it was not snow delay but complete shut down. The locals couldn't get to work (or anywhere else) because the snow was blocking the roads. And as I mentioned earlier, the nearest snow plow was hundreds of miles to the north.
So, where as Iggy made it to the hair salon in her 4x4 truck, the stylist did not.
But at the time, us northerners weren't aware of this. So Mac gave her this warning:
"Be careful, Iggy. The snow is quite deep."
"I grew up in Minnesota" she replied. "I know how to drive in the snow."
Famous last words.
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| For those who doubt, here is a picture taken at the Alamo (in downtown San Antonio) during the '85 blizzard. |
We decided to walk, mainly because it was easier than digging our cars out from under the snow. We hung out at the exchange for an hour or so, then returned to the barrack with our purchases.When we arrived at the barracks., we notices Julie's truck had return (and assumably so had Julie), and we could not help noticing it had a boo-boo that was not there earlier.
I mean, other than drinking.
But it just barely past noon-thirty, too early to start drinking. And with the snow, that was probably all we were going to be doing that evening, so it was best we not start too early and overdo it.
By boo-boo I mean that the driver's side door was pushed in several inch from the impact of a '72 Chevy El Camino, the front window was cracked, and where the drivers side window should have been there was only cardboard held in place by duct tape."Where do you suppose she is?"
There was also some damage to the dash board, but we learned that was cause by Iggy repeatedly hitting it with her fist shortly after the accident.
"Where would you be if someone T-Boned your brand new Ford Truck?"
As expected, when we entered the bar, we found Iggy siting in her usual spot, drinking a beer which was probably not her first that afternoon.The bar.
Or her last.
And she looked mad. Beyond mad, she looked pissed!Normal people would have left her alone. But Mac was far from normal. Mac had no fear. And Mac was going to tease Iggy.
"Hey Iggy! What happened to your truck?"
She turned towards us. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face spoke volume
"I thought you said you knew how to drive in snow. I guess the guy who hit you didn't."
She glared at Mac, and if looks could kill he would be dead. He face twitched. You could see it coming. She opened her mouth slightly, and words emerged:
"@#$% you!!!" she responded.
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| I'm Mister White Christmas I'm Mister Snow I'm Mister Icicle I'm Mister Ten Below Friends call me Snow Miser What ever I touch Turns to snow in my clutch I'm too much! |
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