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I have been trying to write about "what I did for my summer vacation" for several weeks, but something is always getting in the way. If you're looking for an update on last week's topic, the mess in Washington, click here. Meanwhile, life goes on outside of Washington.
You may be wondering what's going on here in Florida, as we prepare for hurricane Georges. As I write this, we're deep in the storm before the storm - preparing for whatever may come. And believe me, it is no small deal. If you live within a quarter mile of the water... you've got reason to be concerned. And if you live in what they euphemistically call "manufactured housing" - read: a mobile home - well... think about it: there's a reason why they call them "mobile homes." But for most of the rest of us, there is not much we can or should do. At least you people in the midwest, who have to deal with tornadoes, get it all over with in a matter of minutes. We have been getting pumped up for Georges for a week now. I'm exhausted, and nothing has happened yet.
Lest there be any confusion, I do not mean to make light of those whose lives are truly devastated by nature's fury. That is no laughing matter. But for the rest of us, like so much of life these days, it is mostly hype.
I have survived dozens of hurricanes here in Florida. As a reporter for our college television station in the early seventies, I went on the air to report the latest details of a dangerous hurricane. I advised viewers to remain indoors and stay away from Indian Rocks Beach, where the storm was likely to hit hardest. Then we went off the air, I got into my little Opel Kadet... and headed straight for Indian Rocks Beach. I took the station's 8 millimeter camera with me, and took two rolls of the greatest storm footage you never saw. You never saw it because I had yet to learn that you need plenty of light to take good film. Lesson learned; I never went near Indian Rocks Beach for the remainder of the seventies.
Hurricane veterans know that the number of warnings on the radio has nothing to do with the severity of the storm. Rather, it is directly related to the number of storm update commercials the stations can sell. If they can sell 10 per hour, they broadcast 10 warnings per hour. Never mind how much it may unnecessarily excite the listeners. Hey, the station has a solemn public duty to perform. And if means that they make a bundle of money in the process... well, if it has to be, it has to be. That is commercialism in the raw. And it ain't pretty.
But it appears to work. With hurricane Georges still hundreds of miles away, and its course completely unknown, people were in a frenzy here late last week. I went to a local supermarket Thursday evening with my neighbor, Don Snow, who was doing his duty to protect his family in the storm before the storm. First stop: the cold beer section. Next, as you might guess: ice. Hey, you gotta' have ice! After that, Don headed for the bread and rolls aisle. But the crowd had beat him to it. Normally, there are three shelves, 40 feet long, full of every kind of bread imaginable. But tonight, the shelves were bare. It was really eerie. At the checkout line, I saw one lady with eight loaves of bread. Now, exactly what she planned to do with eight loaves of bread, I have no earthly idea. Perhaps an emergency flotation device; I dunno.
And lest you question the power of the media to excite people, let me prove my point. Back in the mid-seventies, comedian Johnny Carson was the king of late night television. One night he made a joke about a shortage of paper, and wondered how people would get by without bathroom tissue. The next day there was a rush on toilet paper... all across the country. Really! Now, grocery stores loathe empty shelves; you'll rarely see an empty shelf in a grocery store. I donno; it conjures up images of the depression, or Russia, or backwoods Arkansas. But they will do whatever necessary to avoid empty shelves. When my local store ran out of toilet paper after Carson's little joke, you know what they filled the empty shelves with? Charcoal briquettes! I kid you not; it's true! I have no idea what they expected us to do with those briquettes, but it is painful just to think about it.
Georgia lost over 60,000 trees in the last hurricane. No, the storm went nowhere near Georgia, but that's how many trees they had to cut down to provide all the plywood the public ate up. And I choose the term "ate up" deliberately, because I have no idea what people did with all the plywood from the last storm. But one of the rules of hurricane preparation is that you cannot have enough plywood, even if you live on the eighth floor of a condominium.
The Miami Herald recently published a list of supplies you should have on hand when mother nature comes beating down your door. In addition to the obvious, they listed the following. The list is theirs; the comments are mine:
An air horn - To make your presence known, and drive your neighbors nuts. If you should happen to be trapped inside an elevator, you can kill everyone on board with a single blast from an air horn.
Spray paint - To paint the name of your insurance company on the front of your house; or just a diversionary tactic for your children. The younger ones can run around painting everything in sight. The older ones can sniff it.
Oven mitts - Honest; that's on their list. Oven mitts.
Silicone caulking - to perform that little touch-up work around the house.
A second pair of shoes - apparently, their readers have only one.
So that's what we're doing down here as the rest of you go about your normal lives. But I don't want you to feel guilty as you sip beer in front of the TV while watching Monday Night Football. Those of us down here who planned ahead have plenty of beer, ice... and oven mitts. Yes, we have oven mitts.
A Boomer Responds:
"The oven mitts are so you do not get frost bite reaching into the cooler full of ice for another beer." - John
If you want to write more, we're open to offerings from other boomers. If you have something to say of interest to boomers, write it as well as you can in 500-800 words, and send it to us. We can't guarantee we'll publish it, but we'll surely consider it.
Hershel will have something else to say on October 5; mark your calendar to come back to BBHQ every Monday.
| The BBHQ Album of the Month is "Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)," by Simon & Garfunkel. If you were fortunate enough to see them in concert last year, I do not have to sell you. The concert was terrific! This album collection includes 55 songs, plus their new recording, "Citizen of the Planet," and one of the songs sung by the Everly Brothers during the concert. The DVD was recorded during their concert in Madison Square Garden in 2003. For any S&G fan, this is a must have! But then, you knew that already, didn't you? |
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The BBHQ Book of the Month is
"Vinyl Highway," by
Dee Dee Phelps. You remember her as Dee Dee, of Dick and Dee Dee.
Together, they took a decade long ride on the rock and roll roller
coaster. It was a heck of a ride! Dick Clark, Quincy Jones, the Beach
Boys, Glenn Campbell, Dionne Warwick, Bobby Vinton... Dick and Dee Dee
rubbed shoulders with all of them. This is her "behind the scenes" story.
It's pretty cool.
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Copyright © 1998 Baby Boomer HeadQuarters (BBHQ) All rights reserved.
rev. 10/01/98