Thursday, September 4, 2008



I'm starting to hate hurricane season.

I might be looking at evacuating to the mainland in the next few days, depending upon the whims and wind speed and trajectory of IKE. The pesky little bugger is still a ways out, but---and here's the big BUT-it looks like it might be headed our way, or in our general direction or just wanting to play bulldozer with the whole state of Florida. Plan A for evacuation is either Miami or Daytona back to our sealed-up house, but it seems the "cone of uncertainty" covers both these areas. Plan B? Cuba, perhaps?

I certainly don't look forward to sitting in traffic for hours, packing up the most immediate and critical things, or worse, sitting in the middle of a major hurricane down here, where a Category 3 means storm surges of at least 14 feet. Goodbye cars, first floor, stuff in storage, electricity. There's really no choice but to evacuate. But can you imagine the possibility of heading to a place which might be hit, too? Or that you may have to traverse some ugly weather before you get to your destination? I shudder to think about it!

The hurricane situation is a non-stop, no-escape topic everywhere here. If the Weather Channel had Nielsen ratings, they'd be through the roof. Everyone is OBSESSED with 3-day cones, 5-day cones, barometric pressure, wind speed. It's like watching a disaster in slow motion. And not to mention the level of anxiety and frenzy it builds up.

Just a small price for living in Paradise, you say? No. After being hit with a triple whammy in Volusia County in 2004, I know that it's a Florida thing, like earthquakes in California. You can run sometimes, but you can't hide. And right now, I'd like to find a rock big enough to hide under.

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