Oh. What a (short) night.

It's 2:30 a.m. I was in the office and the power went out in just the operations area where we do our forecasts. Fortunately it's a clear night with no weather. Dave, Loren, a guy I'll call "Bob", and I are on shift. I had been working with this home school group to get them a tour and they really really really wanted to come on a midnight shift to see what we do the. I kept telling them it was the same as a normal shift, just sleepier. Still. So I changed my schedule so I could to this tour without bothering the other staff.

They show up and we start the tour when the power goes out. I mean dark. The hall light was on, but the ops lights and the computers, everything, are down. One boy about seven, starts pushing buttons. This is not so bad right now since everything is down, but I don't want him wandering off and pushing buttons where things are UP. So I gently stop him and his mom gets all over his case. He feels bad and I feel bad, but I DID give the lecture about not pushing buttons. Loren is trying to ignore everyone. He has the hardest time on midnights, Dave is laughing and yucking it up with the kids keeping them busy hoping either 1) the power comes on so we can finish this up and get our forecasts out, or 2) they leave so we can get our forecasts out.

I am trying to think of things for them to do at this point so I go outside to see how far this outage goes. Funny thing is, we have a surge protector for the building the size of a family van and a diesel generator and do not go down, no matter what is happening around. I've seen widespread power outages where it's pitch black out, and we are the lone light shining in a sea of blackness.

Outside, all the lights around town are up. Hmmm. It must be an internal thing. I go back in to remind Dave to call Nashville to take over our forecast since we are dead. Oh, yeah, he says, which gives him a chance to show the students what happens in such a situation. "Bob" is being friendly and laughing with them, too, which is bizarre, since he hates people in general. But, he DOES like midnight shifts, since usually there are no people around. I'm happy that he is happy.

I run back out to look at something else, I can still see this as clear as anything, and there are two moons. Not really, but one full moon down low on the horizon, orange and beautiful. And directly across from it, 180 degrees away on the other horizon, a sort of reflection or lens effect, where a paler and grayer full moon is also rising, but is rapidly fading. I HAVE to show these people. I've never see anything like it.

I run back inside yelling for EVERYONE to come and see. They all run out, including poor Loren who, did I mention, hates these shifts. I get to a small rise of ground to better see the reflected moon so I can shoot a picture with my phone. This is a bit odd, since I don't recall seeing this small mound before. It's not a hill, no, just a small little rise in the yard, but it works well enough. The crowd gathers around.

Suddenly, something shoots across the moon's face. The seven year old boy shouts out, "IT'S ET!" Sure enough, it is. OK, I'm dreaming. I'm having a dream and in it I realize I'm having a dream. But it's so magical that I do not want it to end. ET! Across the face of a false moon rising in the sky and I'm gonna get a picture.

The little alien creep will not stop moving around so I can get a good shot. The kids ooh and aah and I mutter and sputter and finally, ET and his rider come closer and we see it's a black Pegasus with a boy on it. Wow. Could be Carter for all that...

He swoops and swings around and flies and I wonder where he got the horse. Coolest horse. I like black horses. Nithe black pegathutheth. All he'th mitthing ith a horn on hith forehead. Oh well.

Now this night is turning into a bad one and I just want them to go. I mean, I came in only for this tour, the power goes out, and I can't even get a decent shot of the moon boy to put on my blog and now I have a splitting headache.

I wake up at 1:47 a.m. with this pounding headache. My pillow is wrong, all wrong. I quit drinking caffeine, and it's just wrong. So I get up and there are no ibuprofen or even migraine tabs. I left them at work. So I took a hot shower. HOT....SHOWER. I'm better. I had to write this down so I would not forget.

Now I have to get up at 6:30 am to drive two hours one way up to Abingdon, Virginia to teach a Boy Scout training meeting about weather safety for leaders. I had expected between 40-70 people, so I made 80 copies of my handout. I called just to make sure that I had enough, and the guy tells me this: "You have eight people signed up. We might get some walk ins but, eight right now."

Eight? Really? I'm a OK liar, and an even better actor so I said, "OK, thanks, man. I wanted to make sure everyone will get a copy of my handout." Yeah, each person, all their kinfolks, and their five huntin' dawgs, too. Crap. This time it's not a dream. It's a walking nightmare and it's real. I would not have agreed to this for eight people. On my day off.

When I get home from teaching my total of eight, count 'em eight, people (walk ins welcome if you're in the neighborhood of Pleasant View United Methodist Church, Abingdon, VA at 10:15 am EDT and 11:05 EDT Saturday, October 16, 2010) in two, count 'em two, sessions, I would really like to go to Olive Garden and get their endless pasta and salad deal, or Red Lobster for their endless shrimp deal.

Somebody else can drive to Knoxville for dinner. I'm sleeping in the back seat.

Oh, and here is a picture of sunrise yesterday morning, right after I arrived at the office. Nice, eh?