Saturday, July 9, 2011

Postcards from the Edge

You know what's difficult about addiction? Everything.

I was going through a journal I wrote during college, after I was instructed to keep one as a means of coping with withdrawal. I've kept it after all these years, despite my predilection for hating diaries and hating even more that I succumbed to it. I no longer use or really need one, but learning of Betty Ford's death tonight, I was inclined to reminisce about a darker time in my life.


I was staring at the mirror. All I was hearing was the drip-drip-drip of the faucet and the whiny sound of the restroom fan. I wasn't sure how much time had passed. I was hypersensitive to sound. Each droplet falling from the faucet sounded like a bomb. A plane flying over my apartment sounded like an approaching tornado. And the fan continued to change pitch, now slightly lower.

Thirty minutes had passed before I came out of it. I wasn't even aware my roommate had returned home. I don't think he noticed, but I doubt he would mention it if he did. I'm not really sure why it happened, but it seemed I was stuck in time -- awake and comatose. The drip-drip-drip will haunt my dreams for days.

A couple of days ago, I was playing a video game. That's all I remember about that day. As I'm writing this, I can't remember really playing the video game at all. I've played that game so many times, that I'm not sure if I should. But soon it was over, and it was the next day.

I'm still not sure how I should be acting, but I go to class, talk to my roommate, hang out with friends, and keep a smile on my face. I've recently begun going to bars, and after the initial trepidation -- it almost seems like a new life. They check for my ID, and my involuntary reaction is to say, "Oh, I'm the designated driver." I'm not sure if there's such a thing as a "new normal", but if there is, this is what it is.

I don't say much at the bars. I generally listen to others, laugh at jokes, and watch the slowly draining steins. I still wonder why they drain so slowly, but the urge to drink has been replaced with something more fundamental. My urge is to be like them without having to do what they do to be like them.

I can't stand montages on TV. So pedantic, so melodramatic, so manipulative. But damned if I don't live these moments in super slow motion, with the same hypersensitivity as the mirror incident. Gulp-gulp-gulp, just like the drip-drip-drip. The clink of glasses, the ding of an ice cube hitting the bottom, the unmistakable sound of an opening beer bottle, the rising bubbles -- magic to the senses, even after everything. I still see and hear all of it as magic.

Mostly, I just observe. Gulp-gulp-gulp.

[Name omitted] keeps telling all of us that recovery is a lifelong process. I've always wondered if recovery is a misnomer. I see it as substitution. I had one life, and it wasn't working. So now I have another, and I don't know if, in the end, it will work. I'm pretty sure that staring at a mirror for thirty minutes without being cognizant of it is not "recovery". Then again, I haven't changed my new life yet, and I haven't gone back to my old one.


What is addiction? To an addict, everything. To a recovering addict, everything. Still. Always.

Betty Ford should be remembered for many reasons, but her courage above all else. An addict perceives everything through the very thing he/she is addicted to. Ford fought back, and helped others in the process. That is amazing.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Conversations with Strangers

After a very troubling 48 hours, I've come back to the blog to cope. So tonight I will write about some bright spots in an otherwise rather terrible couple of days.

I've been spending most of my free time either running in place (gym) or surfing the Al Gore invention for trip ideas. Arizona really pulled a number on me. I absolutely loved the Great Smoky Mountains during spring break, and after my somewhat spontaneous, way-too-brief visit to Arizona a couple of weeks ago, I've been in travel bug mode ever since. After a euphoric week ogling photos from the phenomenal road trip, I've now entered the "post afterglow" stage of traveling. Strangely, it feels like the five stages of dying. Can denial manifest itself as web browsing? It would appear so.

Usually, I start with New Zealand. It has always been the country I've wanted to visit most. I thought the Lord of the Rings films were overrated, but the scenery was spectacular. It seems rather unfathomable that there are places on this planet so stunning, even though my own country is full of them. So I spent a couple of hours looking at photos of Fiordland National Park, Mitre Peak, Routeburn Track, Fox Glacier, Kepler Track, etc. Then I looked at plane tickets. Guess I'll have to move on (for now).

Then I move on to Switzerland. Ah, the Alps. So beautiful, so peaceful, so expensive.

Then Norway. Oh, Oslo, you don't have a lot of letters, but you require a lot of green.

Right now, it's Iceland. Had to watch a TV show shot in Iceland this evening. Some clips of the Ring Road. What a gorgeously desolate, strangely alluring country. I can't pronounce basically any natural attraction, but I'd photograph the hell out of them.

Iceland is pricey, but definitely the tamest of places I've seen so far.

Thing is, I'm going to Canada next month, and probably Mallorca this fall, and maybe Mexico in January. Shouldn't this satisfy me?

No, a traveler is never satisfied. "Don't tell me what a man knows. Don't tell me what a man says. Tell me where he has traveled." Hopefully, soon, I won't be afraid of these words.

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It occurs to me that television is about to get very exciting. White Collar returns in a week, Burn Notice later this month, and No Reservations and Breaking Bad in July. After a spectacular second season of Justified and third season of Parks and Recreation, these shows have much to live up to. (Not to mention the glorious final episodes of Community in its very fine second season.) On the other hand, Supernatural had its worst season, and House has become a total disaster. The season finale of House was astonishingly bad -- unforgivable, actually. I'm not sure I'm sticking around for Season 8. Fortunately, Margo Martindale redeemed everything, and made Justified a contender for my favorite drama right now -- at least Mad Men level quality.

Television is constantly panned by people who don't have a clue. Right now, it is infinitely better than film. More reliable, more thought-provoking, more intelligent, more daring. Writers, directors, and actors at the top of their game, giving performances of their lives. All you have to do is click the remote, and do a little research. There's more out there than American Idol and Dancing with the Stars. What is popular is commonly not what is good...

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The soundtrack to Solaris (2002) by Cliff Martinez is finally available on YouTube. A strange, ambient, quiet, beautiful set of pieces that make the movie far better than it deserves to be. I absolutely love this soundtrack, particularly "First Sleep", "Is That What Everybody Wants?", and "Will She Come Back?" A travesty that such an interesting work is overlooked in the movie music industry.

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It was 101 on 1 June where I live. Why is this a positive thing? Well, my air conditioner works. Never mind. All negative.

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Tomorrow is Friday, and I'm having ham, egg, cheese, and a croissant. That's good enough.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Graduation Day

This week, I will attend my (hopefully) final graduation. Sadly, I'll be attending many more graduation ceremonies, just not mine. Actually, I'll probably find those more enjoyable, since I will have taught some of them prior to graduating. Nevertheless, my disdain for these ceremonies is well-known and deeply felt.

However, I am compelled to attend, primarily out of being voluntold to by my dear mother. Happy Mother's Day. So I will attend, and smile for the camera, and perhaps earn my third volume of Severe Convective Storms. This time, I am promised a hooding, which I guess is supposed to tantalize me into attending the ceremony. "You only get hooded once!" O....k, but doesn't that just mean I only get a Ph.D. once, which is not necessarily true anyway?

Graduation day, for me, has always been about the other people, not the one graduating. Commonly, this sort of thing would irritate me, but not in this case. Graduation is a process of community. Ultimately, it falls on the individual, but there is no way that individual can graduate without the love and support of his mentors, peers, and family. Graduation SHOULD be about the other people. It is an accomplishment for those who have helped almost as much as the graduate himself!

To this end, I wish to thank those who have helped me along the way. I'm pretty sure I would not have made it without my fellow graduate students. Who else would I get to complain to about the little things, or even the big things? Who else would I eat my second plate of Pad Thai, or third plate of fajitas at Chelino's, or fourth plate of everything at Himalayas? Who else would understand my rants on RKW theory, or on irresponsible storm chasing, or the latest bureaucratic nonsense at the Intergalactic Weather Center?

The administrative assistants deserve all the credit in the world. I'm not sure how often Celia or Nancy or Marcia or Judy or Becky saved my metaphorical behind, but I'm relatively certain the equivalent number of tropical cyclones in a year would require usage of some Greek letters no one has heard of. Anyone graduating anywhere should shake hands with the school staff and say thank you. You would not have made it without them, even if you didn't know it.

Having mentors as wonderful as mine is not just a rarity, but an absolute privilege. There is no question that the quality of my advisors was instrumental in me getting to where I am. Lance, Mike, Chuck -- thanks for everything. In particular, for still putting up with me.

And to my family -- especially my dear mother. This one's for you.

So I will attend graduation, smile for the cameras, receive...something, and go on my merry way. I'll do this for you, because you've earned it. All of you.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

The End's Not Near

This semester has just flown right by.

They all do, but as a first-semester professor, the tempo is more presto than allegro. I remember being nervous for my first lecture, and then being less nervous for my second lecture. Now, here I am, one semester down, and lectures just kind of roll off the tongue.

Needless to say, particularly from the students, it's been a bit of a rocky start. I'm learning by trial and a lot of error, but I'm getting the hang of some things. I know how to use the projector now. I know where the chalk is in one of my classrooms. I can and occasionally do remember to put notes and homework online. Still have a little trouble reading my board handwriting, but hey, at least my students can! No, no, they can't.

I can, however, say that I feel better about things than I did a couple of months ago. I could see students perking up a bit more by the end of the semester. Answers on homework and exams seemed more complete, and more earnest. This despite the ever-looming reminder that summer, and perhaps the real world, were waiting for many of them. That's a start, I guess.

As a student, I was a bit aloof to a professor's life. I knew there was lecture, and preparation for that lecture, and grading of homework, and maybe if there was time, the other thousand things that have to be done (primarily research). I remember feeling that the last thing I wanted to do was get in the professor's way. So I spent very little time taking advantage of office hours, or saying hello before or after class. I came in, sat down, opened a notebook, wrote down some notes, occasionally laughed annoyingly loud at a couple of jokes, and walked out.

I doubt this is universal, but as a professor, I sort of want the students to chat with me. Even if it's not school-related. Here all of these students come in to class and give you permission to riddle their ears with knowledge for 50 minutes without so much as a peep -- you start to wonder: "Who are these people? Why in the world are they listening to ME? What do these people do besides listening to me?" It turns out, they do many of the things I did while in college. Imagine that. But I can tell I was wrong as a student -- professors don't mind chatting with you. Many times, they enjoy the diversion. I sure do.

One student exclaimed during my first class that I looked so young. My response? "Think how it looks from my end." A 21-year-old telling a 28-year-old they look so young -- that's a new one.

Today was the first day that a student has shaken my hand. Hopefully not the last. That alone is enough incentive to give it another go. Maybe next time, I'll find the chalk before class starts.

Monday, May 2, 2011

24 Hours Later

War is hell.

When I first heard the news last night, I wasn't happy. I wasn't sad. I wasn't really feeling anything.

Osama bin Laden was dead, and I didn't feel anything. It didn't seem right. I was listening to people outside of my apartment singing "God Bless America" in a complete daze. Everything seemed surreal (overused word, but nonetheless). I heard people say "Fuck Obama!" and "USA! USA!" in response. (Please note: Received two comments already: No, that is not a typo.) There are two American flags on balconies today that were not there yesterday.

No one really talked about it at work today. It was brought up, but more of a "I can't believe it" than a "We did it!" sort of way.

I still don't feel anything. Not one damn thing.

I knew somebody who died on September 11. I was a "good acquaintance", at best, but it is fair to say that the attacks that day affected me personally. Indeed, they led me to a very dark time in my life, but that's a story only a small number of people know and should know. I have recovered from that dark time, and I am a better man for it.

But I'm not feeling anything ... anything.

I listened to a few "Here's what I was doing when..." stories last night, with a maelstrom of tears and beer. What was meant to be a celebration quickly turned into a group of people drowning their sorrows in alcohol, the only elixir they could find. I know the temptation all too well.

People were shooting off fireworks, wrapped in flags, bouncing beach balls, and cheering wildly in the streets throughout the country last night. Many have used the sports metaphors. Others have compared our reaction to that of some of the Palestinians after 9/11. Me? Well, I see it as a parade after a war being over. The parade is full of pride, excitement, relief, and sorrow. And tomorrow, there will be leftover confetti on the streets, a couple of people in jail, and a rising sun. All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.

War is a human construct and an eternal reality. Conflict is in our nature. We are animals, savage beasts with brains capable of recognizing this fact. Sometimes we are capable of transcending this fact. Most of the time, we change the scoreboard.

Osama bin Laden is dead. One less evil person in the world. A stain on our collective history, yet one casualty of war. But this war has lived longer than we have, and will outlive all of us. We don't live in "interesting times" or at the cusp of some new, unforeseen future. We're metaphorical hamsters.

Some are preaching us to be joyless, some are claiming we are no better than the other side, some have found closure in whatever way they can find it.

I feel nothing. I'm too busy running on a treadmill.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Some Thoughts on 27 April 2011

One of the most significant tornado outbreaks of the modern era occurred on Wednesday in much of the East, particularly in Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and Tennessee. The number of fatalities has exceeded 300, with still hundreds unaccounted for. Such a tragically high number of deaths has sobered the meteorology community, particularly given the relatively excellent forecast of the event by today's standards.

My thoughts on the outbreak, in general, have been proffered by others. However, at the very least, they deserve repeating, as the last thing the meteorology community and the public can afford is a slow dwindling of the memory and a repression of the tragedy. Complacency is unacceptable, given the appalling number of fatalities from Wednesday's event.

Although it is obviously premature to propose the reasons (and their relative importance) behind the number of fatalities, it is fairly likely the reasons were in the communication arena rather than the meteorological. Many, if not most, of the tornadoes had substantial lead-times, given each storm's ease with which it produced tornadoes. The Storm Prediction Center (SPC) had heightened awareness of the event, even out to five days in advance, and by the 0600 UTC Day-1 convective outlook, had issued a high risk. Particularly dangerous situation (PDS) tornado watches soon followed, and NWS warnings were inundated with "heightened" text. News media were covering the event very well. So what went wrong?

I offer a few thoughts...

1) It is clear to me that antecedent convection played a role in one almost undeniable way and one potential way. First, much of northern Alabama was without power after early morning convection from a severe mesoscale convective system (MCS). The MCS produced substantial wind damage and even a few tornadoes that morning in the Tennessee Valley, contributing to widespread power outages in much of rural northern Alabama. Thus, there was little if any means of communication with many of those affected by the subsequent tornadic supercells. It is very likely that these power outages contributed to the loss of life totals, particularly in northern Alabama. The second way, I suspect, is that many people have the "one-and-done" philosophy with severe convection. Once severe thunderstorms affected northern Alabama that morning, I suspect there was reduced interest in impending weather and heightened interest in recovery. This may stem from preconceived notions that multiple rounds of severe weather are very uncommon within a 24-h period. I am somewhat unclear on how this possibility was conveyed to the public at large, but it was reasonably well forecast by the SPC and NWS offices in the affected regions -- nevertheless, the frequency with which multiple rounds of high-impact weather affects the same location in a 24-h period is possibly low enough to contribute to reduced awareness, particularly when there is limited means of increasing that awareness thanks to the power outages.

Because power outages almost undoubtedly contributed to loss of life in this event, we must find a means of conveying the necessary information to the public without the luxury of electricity. This potentially excludes (outdoor) sirens, which likely depend on available power. (More on sirens in a later blog post.) Cell service is potentially helpful, but given the potential for cell service to be disrupted and the questionable availability of cell service in particularly rural portions of the region, this is only one potential option. Note that NOAA weather radios can (and should) be battery powered, but these are not immune to power outages either, as the Huntsville NWS has discovered. Clearly, this should be a primary focus in the communication arena to prevent a repeat of this event.

2) It is downright irresponsible to claim that it is impossible to survive an EF4/EF5 tornado, given the imagery of the tornadoes affecting Smithville, MS; Tuscaloosa, AL; and Birmingham, AL. Although there is some evidence that entire housing was essentially completely destroyed and displaced from foundations, even with reasonably strong grounding, making this claim can lead to the unwise decision simply to refuse to take cover in subsequent scenarios. The "intervention of destiny" syndrome is NOT what the public should be led to believe when tornadoes occur. Although being underground may have been the only way to survive in exceedingly rare circumstances of these tornadoes, the public should be encouraged to take cover in the best way they possibly can.

On a side note, it is my belief that the best way to survive a tornado is to get out of its path. In this manner, this means driving in a direction perpendicular to the track of the tornado well in advance of the tornado's approach. As a meteorologist, this is relatively simple knowledge to obtain. It certainly could have led to a better result than the notorious Andover overpass incident, for example, which subsequently led to loss of life in the 3 May 1999 tornado outbreak. However, I worry when some bring up this prospect when urban areas are in the path of tornadoes. I suspect that mass panic may result, with a large number of drivers erratically and irresponsibly taking risks to avoid the tornado, which they may not know how to do anyway. The last place people want to be is in a traffic jam as the tornado approaches. I caution people who propose this idea, at least until more research on this potential shift in philosophy is conducted and completed.

3) It is time to increase research regarding increased population and potential impacts from tornadoes. As most in the severe weather community are aware, nonmeteorological artifacts inundate the severe weather reports archive. A relatively untested artifact is the magnitude and trend of population density -- would this tornado outbreak have resulted in such substantial loss of life in the Great Plains, or if the tornadoes were displaced x number of miles north/south of their actual tracks? Such research can provide insight on the uncertainty regarding the overall impacts from a meteorologically significant severe weather outbreak (or other type of hazard, such as a hurricane or winter storm), and also may provide an improved means of comparing this event to those of the past (e.g., 3 April 1974).

4) Although there is some statistical evidence that there is at least locational dependence of major tornado days to ENSO, it is scientifically (and certainly statistically) questionable to associate individual severe weather outbreaks, and even collective significant severe weather outbreaks, to this weather-climate phenomenon. The sample size of the outbreaks is too small, and their dependence on so many other variables, some of which we still are not completely aware of, too great to make such a daring conclusion. My thoughts, then, on associations with global climate change should go without saying (and thus, will go without saying).

5) It is absolutely imperative that the meteorology and social science community make a considerable effort to identify the breakdowns that led to the calamitous casualty count, and propose solutions to these breakdowns. There is no excuse! It is our responsibility as scientists and as forecasters. Increased effort to research, rather than speculate, on these causes is of utmost importance. Tornado outbreaks of this magnitude will happen again, and if current trends continue, even more people may be affected in the future. Although loss of life in these types of events is virtually certain, we can and must do more to ensure that we can limit, if not completely eradicate, that number.

Such effort includes breaking down and solving the inherent complexities of such interdisciplinary research, eliminating science-vs.-social science nonsense, and refusing to fall into the trap of assuming we know the answers without actually identifying them scientifically. Our attempts to bridge these gaps so far have not been adequate. We can and must do more.

Although the science questions of this case are plentiful (e.g., what processes on the mesoscale occur to promote nearly universal development of tornadoes with supercells on days like 27 April versus a much smaller ratio on others, what antecedent environments appear to exist with tornado outbreaks and are these environments relatively few and predictable, etc.), the social science aspects appear to be just as important, if not more so. The tragic events of 27 April 2011 should be a call to arms in the severe weather community!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Weather Or Not

During last weekend's three-day outbreak of severe storms, it became clear to me that there are some aspects of meteorology that are becoming bloodsport. As the reports of tornadoes kept coming in, many of them duplicates or updates of initial reports, the tornado count was climbing like the "ka-chings" of a cash register during rush. Reports of "catastrophic damage" and EF5s, "violent" tornadoes, and debris balls on radar filled my Facebook feed like termites in a crumbling wall.

I love severe weather, but not at all because it tends to destroy things. The thing is, I'm not sure everyone else feels the same way anymore. Should I take the exclamation points in a status update to mean alarm or rapture? I fear it is the latter.

The beauty of deep moist convection is in the visual grandeur, and the physics. The collateral damage is our, at times, perilous existence. Severe weather can destroy lives, even end them. So seeing a radar screen of supercells with "chaser convergence" surrounding these things like vultures observing the latest kill leaves me in a morally ambiguous zone.

I understand that most people who chase storms do it because they appreciate the beauty behind these storms. I admire that feeling, and share it. But now, I believe, this admiration coexists with something else. Adventurers waiting for their next dollar. Receiving money for the latest tornado video, which shows somebody losing everything because of it, is an ethical quagmire to me. Broadcast companies extend their hands full of stash at the nearest sign of a rocky clip of debris spinning around. Something doesn't sit well with me given this reality.

I have mentioned many times my ethical dilemma with storm chasing. I have already vowed never to chase on high risk days again, after the calamitous rural traffic jam on 19 May 2010 in central Oklahoma. And I continue to see these drool-laden clips of revelatory excitement from destructive tornadoes, again and again and again. I just don't know anymore. I love the science behind tornadoes, and they do look quite beautiful. But I see a big downside to them, and I can't help but feel ... well, conflicted by the latest brouhaha on YouTube showing shaky video of a house lifted off its foundation. Enough already.

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With the "miracle" of social networking, meteorologists have, more and more, warned others of impending danger via Facebook/Twitter, etc. I don't know why, but I find this trend increasingly annoying.

For one thing, it seems concerning to me that people would be on Facebook during a tornado warning. I would hope they were not online at all, but rather in a place of safety. Of course, it is naive of me to expect everyone to be doing this, but then again, my fear is that people will come to depend on Facebook during times like these, when I think their interests should be elsewhere (online or off).

The other thing that bothers me about it is that there seems to be a lot of overwarning going on. Alerting people that they are in a tornado watch/warning is fine, but exaggerating the risk seems doomed for the "cry wolf" syndrome. Seeing someone say a tornado watch is in effect, followed by "city X" is in "grave danger" during the next few hours is ... well ... a bold statement. And I'm not sure people will take it too seriously if they receive no such grave danger.

Then there are the "five-minute" updates of warnings, followed by "take shelter, take shelter"! If the warned people haven't taken shelter by your third of fourth update of the storm, Darwin is stirring.

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I've mentioned this before, but please, for the love of "God", refrain from the default, robotic, meritless statement proclaiming "prayers to the victims of the tornadoes" after showing video, radar data, etc. of your adventures enjoying them. It screams hypocrisy, and I find it simply deplorable. I am sure many if not most of you mean the words, but they sound as hollow as their actual worth. First, virtually no one affected by the tornadoes will see/hear your prayers on Facebook/YouTube. The very people you offer them to won't even be aware of them. Secondly, they do NOTHING, and I mean that in every sense of the word ... NOTHING ... toward actually helping them. Instead of offering your prayers, donate some money/time to volunteer groups, the Red Cross, etc. Do something meaningful.