Leaving work, I made a stop at a bookstore on Court Street, but it started looking gray out, so I decided to take my usual stroll to DeKalb Ave and jumped on the Q train. Just got out of the subway at Ave H -- our brand spanking new Coney Island-bound station that just opened this week -- and the raindrops began. I hustled home and, to borrow the words from the Grateful Dead song, the sky was yellow and the sun was blue...strange light as it got darker and darker. I was in the house and I got several calls and texts from My Better Half who was concerned as to where the heck I was. Just made it to the house and the downpour began. East 17th street and our court caused me to think of "A River Ran Through It." Unbelievable. If a small boat floated by it would not have looked too out of place. Later, we got a call that the windows blew out at a relative's home in Park Slope near 5th avenue. News reports of roofs flying off homes and trees falling. Sad to hear about the one fatality on the highway in Queens, fortunately there were not more.
Lookout Cleveland
Look Out, Cleveland, the storm is comin' through,
And it's runnin' right up on you.
Look out, Houston, There'll be thunder on the hill;
Bye-bye, baby, don't cha lie so still.
Was Wedn'sday evenin' when first we heard the word,
It did not come by train nor bird.
T'was when Ben Pike stepped down to say,
"This old town's gonna blow away."
Chain lightnin', frightnin' as it may seem,
Must not be mistaken for just another dream.
Justice of peace don't know his own fate,
But he'll go down in the shelter late.
(Chorus)
Hidin' your money won't do no good,
Build a big wall, you know you would if you could, yeah!
When clouds of warnin' come into view,
It'll get the ol' woman right outta her shoe.
(Chorus)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.