Last night, about 6:30, I almost took a trip to Illinois courtesy of a 60 mph wind gust that caught me as I put away equipment at a remote for ISU Hockey talk. The late mime, Marcel Marceau would have been proud of my walking in the wind technique. Lightning and thunder were all around as I threw myself into the task at hand, don't let the equipment get wet. (this for the benefit of my beloved engineers) All that was left was wrapping up the 3 mile power cord, actually only 50 feet but it felt like more, as the rain began it's tormenting, torrential downpour. Placing the cord in the back of our charming 94 Cavalier wagon I felt a stinging number of blows to my face as hail tried to knock this mighty giant of broadcasting (that's me) to the ground. Grasping every available hand hold I worked my way to the drivers door when something struck me from behind, a rogue shopping cart from the nearby grocery. Quickly I checked to be sure that no children were in the seat, as I feared it may have been ripped from a hysterical mothers hands, then pushed it aside. Into the car I dove and began a trek back to the station that could only be compared to a submarine ride. As I arrived the storm had subsided and I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered my personal chariot for the ride home. Once there I shared my tale with my wife, I knew it was frightening as she looked up from her book and said "Ruebens for supper".