“How’s the Typhoon?”

I’m often asked

As I write this, my sliding doors are whistling and shaking harder than a Greased up John Travolta. The building, around 25 floors, occasionally rumbles. The constant patter of rain intensifies and wanes alongside the wind — clocking in at around “≥50 kt wind” towards the eye.

I try to find more information on it.

For some reason, the American-based New York Times is one of the top links with potentially life-saving information.

It’s behind a paywall.

I decide $0.25 a week is not worth saving my life.

Screenshot called “Fuck you NYT” by JJ Pryor

I look again.

Though this hurricane is heading straight over Taiwan, Google chooses to use the Japan Meteorological Agency as a source for other pertinent information.

At least its accurate and free.

I’m still stuck on that “kt wind.”

Apparently, kt = knot, and 1 knot can be tied every 1.852 km within an hour. Or something like that. Not sure. I’m a land lubber. Arrr.

I first heard of it a few days ago and then was reconfirmed yesterday. I’m not really on most social media platforms, so I was a bit lucky a friend posted it to a group chat.

It was a nearby county’s warning dressed up like a poster you might find at a kindergarten. Perfect.

Not a peep from my other groups, though.

It makes me miss the good ol’ days of mandatory emergency broadcast tests. Most people had a tv and all the channels were forced to help keep the soviet alarm in tip-top shape.

Nowadays, most people have moved onto the internet. Yet, I don’t find my googles interrupted with pertinent news unless searched for.

Taiwan prefers using a built-in feature on all the phones.

Whenever a planned air raid drill launches, the phone let’s you know like a pregnant cat screaming in the night with instructions in English and Chinese.

If not for the phones, the deployed M16-toting police will let you know in other, more yelly, kind of ways.

Astute observers might notice the time frame here.

If one didn’t learn of said planned air raid beforehand, and one had some time off in the middle of a hot sunny afternoon to walk one’s laundry down to a lovely little robotic laundromat, one might make an air-raid deployed M16-toting police officer quite angry in one’s refusal to stand in the middle of a residential street under an awning for one hour.

And one might pretend to be confused after seeing the M16 wiggle and shake like a Greased up John Travolta.

But one brings us back to this morning.

After waking up at the ridiculous early hour of 9 am from noisy wind bangs, I went for a morning coffee on my balcony.

The knotty kt winds had knocked over an entire bag of laundry detergent from the top-shelf all over everything, so I set it against the wall on the ground and returned to my disturbed bed.

An hour of wasted internet browsing later, I returned, only to find the knotty winds had somehow reached over my railing, lurched down and swatted my detergent bag all over everything else.

But at least my balcony is now clean.

My clothes are not.

A check of the work chat brings puzzled amusement. A notice to the local-based workers says something along the lines of:

Please stay home to stay safe. 

According to the rules, since we all work from home, the typhoon does not impact your safety and today is considered a normal workday for us. If you wish to take today off, please use your annual leave. Otherwise, it will be regarded as absenteeism.

I’m not sure which is my favorite part.

The fact that typhoons can’t hurt me because I work from home is certainly a bit of a relief. It’s also nice to note these mystical forces of nature have enough sense to follow the rules imposed by government bureaucracy. 

Knotty wind. Obedient typhoon.

It does suck having to work on a day when most people get off, though.

Then again, I’m a contractor, so I’d be working anyway.

It’s a good thing I enjoy my work.

Just enough to almost not set-aside an hour and share my morning nonsense with you.

Happy Typhoon day, ramble readers.

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JJ Pryor