Sign Post on the Highway to Hell

Last night, I watched a thing on the National Geographic Channel about the (dun dun dun DUN!) Storm of the Century. Perhaps you recall it as a four-day several-feet-deep snow storm in which hundreds of people were killed and I remember it as a tremendous adventure in which half a dozen people got snowed into the Heartbreak, and Sam and I mounted an Arctic expedition across Donaldson Park, and then hiked to the grocery store to feed the half-dozen people snowed into the Heartbreak. It was awesome. I felt so *alive* and was sorry when the snow melted. The date was March 13, 1993. And then I thought, "I had just turned 30. I was so fucking young. No wonder I enjoyed that natural disaster."