Disaster strikes in the foothills

Nothing spurs terror in a Californian like the sight of snow where it usually isn't. People run for their cars to head home and bunker down.

Trees fall, there are sweeping electricity outages, there are mass collections of spin outs on the roads and everyone runs around screaming "Armageddon!

I don't ever remember my cable or my power going out following two inches of snow in MIssoula. If that was the case, my power would have been out all the time.

I have to admit, this mentality is contagious. I remember growing up I wouldn't think of anything of getting in my little two-wheel drive Subaru Justy and moshing through drifts of snow. In fact, when I was in high school, my dad would actually tow me out of the driveway and send me off onto the roads.

Yet last night while I was at the gym, I actually left early when I saw it had started to snow. I held off for awhile, but then the sense of dread about having to wrestle with my chains or not be able to get into my driveway won out. I made it home before the snow started collecting on the roads.

This morning it's mayhem. The roads are rivers of slushy, melting snow. Trees are down everywhere. No one's power is on. The cable is out. Everyone in my apartment complex walked to work.

It's lunch and there still is no electricity at my place.

This was all kind of fun and different at first, but I'm over it. Life is just so hard without modern convenience.

Lesson learned: Good thing we don't get hurricanes here.