For Our Florida Friends

[bohcoo]

This is an oldie but goodie. Hope the chuckle helps ease the tension.

"Hurricane Preparedness
(by Dave Barry)

No doubt you have been waiting to hear about my harrowing experiences 
during Hurricane Georges.

The worst moment came when my body was being tossed around violently, 
attacked by savage, uncontrollable forces of terrifying power. This 
happened in the supermarket two days before Georges arrived.

Going to the supermarket is a tradition for us hurricane veterans in 
the Miami area. When we hear that a hurricane is coming, we calmly 
and efficiently implement our Hurricane Preparation Plan, which is: 
(1) Panic; and (2) Buy random stuff.

One thing we always buy is bleach. Even if we already have - and many 
of us do - 25 bottles of bleach at home, we buy more. We have no idea 
why; we never actually use it.

Maybe we secretly believe that the hurricane is afraid of bleach. Or 
maybe Clorox hires actors to go to supermarkets, posing as hurricane 
veterans and loudly remarking, "After Hurricane Andrew, the thing 
that saved our lives was bleach!" Whatever the cause, there's
always 
a desperate, shoving mob in the bleach aisle, and if you're lucky 
enough to actually get a bottle, you must guard your shopping cart 
with firearms (which, in Miami, are sold in the firearms aisle).

Once you have your bleach, you race frantically around the 
supermarket buying a massive supply of Emergency Hurricane Food, 
defined as "food that you will never actually consume, even if the 
alternative is to eat your sofa." You find yourself fighting with 
people for the last dust-covered can of Del Monte Lima Beans With 
Prune Parts in Hearty Clam Broth.

During this phase, the supermarket employees often play pranks on the 
shoppers. (I put out a dozen cans labeled `Sheep Vomit,' and
they 
were gone in SECONDS!")

The supermarket frenzy is one of the most dangerous times in any 
hurricane. I was almost struck by an elderly woman pushing a shopping 
cart containing bleach and at least 7,000 pounds of cat food at a 
sustained velocity of 28 miles per hour (the National Weather Service 
defines this as a "category 4 Shopper").

Finally I made it home, where I implemented the next phase of the 
Hurricane Preparation Plan: watching the TV weather experts 
demonstrate, using meteorological science and state-of-the-art 
satellite and computer technology, that they have no idea what is 
going on.

They stand in front of their giant, complex weather maps and say 
things like: "....the path that the hurricane will take depends on 
whether this system here moves any closer to this system over here, 
which would cause this other system to become jealous of this system, 
which is secretly having an affair with this system, unaware that 
this system here is the illegitimate child of this system and the 
gardener, Raoul. On the other hand, if THIS system...."

The irony was, I knew exactly where the hurricane was going. It had 
nothing to do with so-called "meteorology": It had to do with my 
hurricane shutters. Hurricane shutters are metal panels that many 
residents of hurricane zones keep in their garages under a protective 
blanket of dead spiders.

These panels are scientifically engineered such that, if you fasten 
them correctly to all your windows, you will have long bleeding 
gashes on both hands. Also you will guarantee that the hurricane will 
not come. A hurricane can, using its eye, see whether you have your 
shutters up, and if you do, it will go somewhere else, emitting 
powerful gusting chuckles.

Ordinarily, I would have had my shutters up, thereby keeping Georges 
away, but as it happens, this year I ordered new shutters (the edges 
of the old ones were getting dull). As Georges was forming, workmen 
(1) took away all my old shutters and (2) Piled new shutters and 
hardware all around my house. This presented Georges with a rare 
opportunity: Not only could it destroy my house; it could destroy my 
house by whacking it to pieces with my new hurricane shutters. So 
Georges aimed straight for my house. If the weather experts had 
known, they could have just said, "Hurricane Georges is currently at 
latitude X and longitude Y, and is going to Dave Barry's house.

Fortunately, I happen to be a pretty handy "do-it-yourselfer," so 
rather than leave the new shutters lying on the ground, I was able, 
using my natural mechanical ability, to beg the workmen to put them 
up. So they did, and Georges immediately swerved away. (I sincerely 
apologize to the people it hit, but at that point, I was no longer 
steering.)

For the remainder of the hurricane, I watched the TV coverage, which 
consisted mainly of TV reporters in bright yellow rain slickers going 
into evacuation zones and asking the residents, in highly judgmental 
tones, why they did not evacuate. Just once, I wanted to hear a 
resident answer: "Hey, I'm here because I LIVE here. What's
YOUR 
excuse, Hairspray Boy?"

Anyway, I'm glad hurricane season is almost over. And I decided
that 
I'm not going to wait until the "last minute" to get ready for
the 
next season. That's right: I have already bleached my shutters!"

Prayers for all of us in Florida,
Bohcoo
Sarasota, Florida