The pre-math
Our location: 27.88 N, 82.28 W
Center of Frances: 25.3 N, 76.4 W as of 8 a.m. EDT
Hurricanes are somewhat unique among natural disasters, in that you get several days of warning. That way, you can panic before the damn thing even hits.
News reports are telling of chaos in the Orlando area, of testy Home Depot customers and 50-mile traffic jams on Florida's Turnpike and all manner of road rage and general bad will toward our fellow man. News reports are telling of fear along the east coast barrier islands, of resignation in the inland counties hardest hit by Charley three weeks ago, of travelers stranded and confused.
Here at 27.88/82.28, it's a beautiful late summer day. The kids, out of school because the governor wanted our school buildings as shelters, are in the pool. We're kind of tying and battening and preparing, but we are understandably a bit blase because we went through this exercise three weeks ago for what turned out to be a minor rain event, for us, anyway.
And I'll concede that if the storm does reach anything beyond "minor rain event," we're woefully unprepared. We've done the bare minimum that one would do to prepare for a catastrophic hurricane. We have a few gallons of water, a few batteries left over from the Charley scare, a 12-pack of Bud Light, five bags of ice, $390 in cash, a full tank of gas in one car, and a typical grocery load. If we're without power for more than a day or two, we're screwed.
"It's bigger than Charley ... " "It's bigger than Andrew ... " "It's bigger than Missouri."
All that might be true. But the hour-by-hour reports of its fluctuation are as worthless as the hour-by-hour reports from the stock market. Nothing matters until tomorrow.
Center of Frances: 25.3 N, 76.4 W as of 8 a.m. EDT
Hurricanes are somewhat unique among natural disasters, in that you get several days of warning. That way, you can panic before the damn thing even hits.
News reports are telling of chaos in the Orlando area, of testy Home Depot customers and 50-mile traffic jams on Florida's Turnpike and all manner of road rage and general bad will toward our fellow man. News reports are telling of fear along the east coast barrier islands, of resignation in the inland counties hardest hit by Charley three weeks ago, of travelers stranded and confused.
Here at 27.88/82.28, it's a beautiful late summer day. The kids, out of school because the governor wanted our school buildings as shelters, are in the pool. We're kind of tying and battening and preparing, but we are understandably a bit blase because we went through this exercise three weeks ago for what turned out to be a minor rain event, for us, anyway.
And I'll concede that if the storm does reach anything beyond "minor rain event," we're woefully unprepared. We've done the bare minimum that one would do to prepare for a catastrophic hurricane. We have a few gallons of water, a few batteries left over from the Charley scare, a 12-pack of Bud Light, five bags of ice, $390 in cash, a full tank of gas in one car, and a typical grocery load. If we're without power for more than a day or two, we're screwed.
"It's bigger than Charley ... " "It's bigger than Andrew ... " "It's bigger than Missouri."
All that might be true. But the hour-by-hour reports of its fluctuation are as worthless as the hour-by-hour reports from the stock market. Nothing matters until tomorrow.
posted by rj at 10:17 AM
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