Aversion to Inversion

Have you ever seen the 1958 horror/sci-fi flick The Blob?

It’s about an alien amoeba the consistency of mucus running amuck on Earth as it grows bigger by consuming human flesh. The primitive special effects are so bad it’s hilarious. However, being devoured by a big booger would be a really bad way to go, so I do understand the fear factor.

Sometimes that’s how it feels in Cache Valley during the inversion season.

Living in a beautiful valley surrounded by massive mountains is awesome, until those mountains create a booby trap for toxic air to collect and form a repressive cloud of dreariness that hovers for weeks on end slowly seeping poison into our lungs.

It’s sad when you have to be afraid to breathe.

Here is a modified carol to uncelebrate the inversion season.

(To the tune of “Winter Wonderland.”)

Poisonous gas, it is hovering. The clean air, it is smothering.

A horrible sight. It really does bite.

Living underneath a toxic cloud.

Gone away, is the sunshine. Here to stay is a gray line.

I can’t sing a song, got junk in my lung.

Living underneath a toxic cloud.

In the meadow we can’t build a snowman. Cuz’ the weatherman says stay inside.

I say, “Board games?,” and my kids say, “No, ma’am. We’d rather suck the toxic air and die.”

Environmentalist we must hire. Cuz’ oxygen we require.

We are so afraid our good health will fade.

Living underneath a toxic cloud.


Pray for storms!

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