An entire week. That’s how long the schools in New York City will be closed due to Hurricane Sandy. I don’t ever recall the city shutting down for more than a few days for anything. Blackouts, a terrorist attack and a subway strike didn’t stop us longer than three days, but we’ve decided that due to “inclement” weather, we won’t be back in business for a week.
This isn’t the New York that I grew up in.
Then again, according to my Manhattan dwelling friend, people south of 34th Street have no electricity. A lot of residents in Long Island City (a twenty minute walk to the West) were flooded. And in Sunnyside Gardens, giant trees blocked traffic and consequently, Trick or Treaters, from crossing. That’s new…kinda. So, there still being no subway service and limited air traffic, although longer than the shutdown from the MTA strike of 2005 and the air traffic ban after 9/11 – is a little forgivable. What the heck, it’s not like I have to be somewhere.
Obviously, I underestimated this storm. Perhaps it was the name: Sandy – it sounded, so – friendly. Like a Karate frenzied squirrel who lives in Bikini Bottom.
Aside from the boys driving me to my nineteenth (hundredth) nervous breakdown, I can say this time of incubation has lead me to do some “questionable” deeds. Like making homemade pasta of all things. By Tuesday, I had enough of cooking for thirty minutes to be told that everybody was hungry an hour later. Homemade pasta sits like a fifty-pound rock in your gut, apparently.
Have some Lasagne made with one pound of flour, you tapeworm!!
Something I’d never do in my right state of mind. Call somebody a tapeworm that is.
This is what “The Anvil” looked like.
I love Fabio. He makes my dinner chore easy. Then again, if I got to do vodka shots with Lou Diamond Philips while making Vodka Sauce, I’m sure my family would never ask what’s for dinner because they’d never have the chance! Seriously, watch the clip and tell me the guy hasn’t gotten hotter with age. The rest, I leave to your own interpretation.
After being cooped up for a couple of days, there was finally a break in which we explored the damage to our neighbors north of Queens Boulevard. I felt bad for these car owners but in all honesty, I was thinking, “Thank God it wasn’t me.”
Enough to make an Ent cry. Not that it would ever stop these two from harassing people for candy.