What One Doesn’t Hear From The Basement Office

You know, I amaze my beautiful wife sometimes when I can hear the propane delivery across the house and across the garage buffer zone, a package delivery, or the mail carrier visiting our mailbox sixty or eighty yards down the driveway (that one’s easy, as I can hear the pattern of acceleration and braking–both acceleration, I know, physicists, but give me a break, okay?–as she (Ginger, now Cara) drives from our mailbox to the next.

But an explosion at the power plant up the road? Nah, brah.

Although it was not dramatic; from the picture in the article, it looks like something small in a shed might have gone up.

Meanwhile, the city of Springfield is blowing up another of its power plants on purpose.

Because excess power generation capacity is so civilization, man.

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