The Higher Els
We live in The Valley; to be precise, the Wyoming Valley. To have a valley, you need things higher than you, the higher elevations called (at least here) “the higher els.” I’m sure that phrase is used all over, but I haven’t lived all over and only know it from here.
Anyway, we’re having snow as I write this in the early morning hours of Monday. An inch or two in the Valley, possibly more than three inches in the Higher Els.
New York City had the El, but that was a railroad train of sorts, the above street level version of the subway. Third Avenue El, for one. I always thought it would be neat, as a train lover, to live next to it on the second or third floor, until I saw the “Blues Brothers” film and realized the trains in Chicago never stop passing your window.
Back to the local higher els. We have windmills on ours. Not the cute fat things you see in Dutch paintings with the big sail-like blades, but slim models with what look like large airplane propellers. They move fairly slowly and make electricity, each one supposedly enough to light the universe, or our planet or a thousand houses. I forget what the promise was, but I haven’t heard much except for plans to build another two dozen.
Also on the higher els are what the FCC and FAA call an antenna farm. All the local tv and most fm stations have their towers in one spot, making it easier for airplanes coming into or leaving the local airport. They are real Towers of Babel, high on the mountain, reaching up to communicate with the gods, or someone.
Anyway, we’re having snow as I write this in the early morning hours of Monday. An inch or two in the Valley, possibly more than three inches in the Higher Els.
New York City had the El, but that was a railroad train of sorts, the above street level version of the subway. Third Avenue El, for one. I always thought it would be neat, as a train lover, to live next to it on the second or third floor, until I saw the “Blues Brothers” film and realized the trains in Chicago never stop passing your window.
Back to the local higher els. We have windmills on ours. Not the cute fat things you see in Dutch paintings with the big sail-like blades, but slim models with what look like large airplane propellers. They move fairly slowly and make electricity, each one supposedly enough to light the universe, or our planet or a thousand houses. I forget what the promise was, but I haven’t heard much except for plans to build another two dozen.
Also on the higher els are what the FCC and FAA call an antenna farm. All the local tv and most fm stations have their towers in one spot, making it easier for airplanes coming into or leaving the local airport. They are real Towers of Babel, high on the mountain, reaching up to communicate with the gods, or someone.
posted by Tom Carten at 12:06 AM
2 Comments:
They should do a scientific study on the disconnected, fragmented thinking this guy exhibits daily. Windmills and els? Holy sheeezzze
That's where the windmills are; on the higher el's.
That's where the snow falls most; on the higher el's.
That's where the antenna farms are; on the higher el's.
That's where the people worshipped their gods; on the higher el's.
What weather man/woman could describe things in this market without using the phrase, "...with more in the higher el's"?
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