|the pounding feet in the streets below
||[Nov. 16th, 2001|11:38 am]
So as you know if you live in Austin, the sky tore open yesterday. Water streamed down from the heavens. Looking out from my office to the hills beyond, I noticed that I could no longer see the 360 bridge. It looked to be night outside, and lightning lit up the surrounding terrain and cut off our power periodically. I walked down the stairs and noticed the roof leaking. There was a newly formed river carving a spiral path down the parking garage.|
In short, I had to drive. I mean, why not? It's just fucking water. My destination was the BUH meeting, on campus. I took 360 to Mopac. Other than not being able to see, the trip was uneventful. Oh, and there was the hail. As I was putting Bjork into the CD player (perfect fierce weather music), I started hearing little pinging noises. That's when I noticed the ice pellets hitting the windshield. Awesome.
Mopac was an experience. We were driving at a crawl, about 20 miles per hour. As I passed the old Dr. Koop building (God rest his soul), I saw a waterfall of silty brown mud/water pouring out onto Mopac, like so many washed up dreams of a dead dot-com. I veered out of the way.
I got off on Windsor. As I crossed over Pease Park, I noticed with amusement and awe that the humble, usually dried up creek that traces its way through park was now a roaring river gone mad. I made it to campus, parked at 22 1/2 and San Gabriel, and walked the rest of the way.
Not having an umbrella, I was soon drenched. meh. Resigned to my fate, I began taking in the faces of those around me. Sullen, miserable folk, racing to unknown destinations under their all too flimsy protection. Suddenly I was happy. By the time I arrived at my destination, I was skipping, whistling "Singin' in the Rain". Naturally.