Blog living the feel of Ophelia #2
One of the rites of hurricane season is for those of us not living in coastal areas is to laugh and shake our heads at the stupid people who won't leave the beaches in the face of a mighty hurricane. "Why do they think they can just ride it out?" we think, and figure they deserve whatever comes their way.
But, while people who don't get out of the way of a massive hurricane and ignore mandatory evacuations just because they want to see a neat show of nature still probably deserve scorn, the last couple days here in the path of Ophelia have shown just how hard it is to really understand the force that's heading our way. It's an impressive spectacle, with clouds moving so fast that it can make you dizzy too watch for so long, spray shooting feet in the air off of the waves, and higher and higher tides. Then there's the calm before the storm, where it suddenly gets clear and calm, and it's not too hard to imagine how someone could come to the conclusion that what's coming is not going to be any big deal.
We're just looking into the eye of a category 1 hurricane or a tropical storm, so the chances of us being evacuated are not very high. But I have to say that there's something sort of exciting to think that I could possibly witness a low-grade hurricane in a house on the beach.
Still, if I get a plank through the head or something, you have my permission to shake your head at my grave and say, "Idiot."
9 comments:
Some of my fondest memories from living in Miami were during hurricanes, when everyone boarded up their windows and headed down to the local bar to wait out the storm together. There is definitely an energized feel to the air as a storm approaches, which is pretty mesmerizing. It's an amazing experience, as long as you're able to ride it out in relative safety.
Also, when you live someplace that tends to have a lot of these things, it makes you reluctant to pick up and leave every time one comes along. Then again, I was lucky enough not to have to deal with a Category 5...the worst I experienced were a Cat 3 that wasn't a direct hit, and a strong Cat 1 that did pass directly over (big wet mess). Faced with a Cat 4 or 5, I'd get the hell out of dodge in a heartbeat.
What's your hurricane music going to be? During Hurricane Floyd, one of the local radio stations played Pink Floyd non-stop while the storm passed through. Very surreal, hearing the howling wind and pounding rain during the worst part of the storm, while listening to Comfortably Numb.
By the way, what are you doing up at 5:50 AM on a vacation day? ;)
Where are you getting this 5:50 AM information from? I was still asleep then, so unless I've started blogging in my sleep...God, that's a horrifying thought.
The only song I could come up with is singing "Ophelia" to the tune of "Cecilia" by Simon & Garfunkel. There is "Swamp Ophelia" by the Indigo Girls, but I think that about as many people play that album now as they did when it came out: almost none.
How 'bout "Come on Ophelia the noise! Girls rock your boys!"
When I was posting the comment and clicked "show original post," it showed your posting time as 5:50. I thought maybe it was using a different time zone, but the other comments are displayed in ET.
You could rewrite a bunch of songs that way. Especially anything with the word "feel" in it. How about Bad Company - "Ophelia's Makin' Love."
sorry - to myself mostly, because I can now NOT get that out of my head.
I was on Long Island during Hurricane Gloria. No great damage where I was, just some missing shingles and siding, but I remember watching the storm intently through the window of my second-floor bedroom. Probably a pretty dumb thing to do, considering the possibility of the window breaking, but I just couldn't stop looking.
I was living in Charlotte back in late September 89 when we got rocked by Hugo. Despite being so far inland, it was still a category 4 as it passed through Charlotte.
We didn't rock out to Scorpions or anything like that, but we did marathon readings of "Les Miserables".
You know,..... Victor Hugo. And the Yugo was at the height of its brief and undeserved popularity, so we also all bought Yugos.
Okay. I made that up. We didn't do the marathon readings. But we did name the mascot of our stupid basketball team Hugo. I wonder if the New Orleans Hornets will give him a girlfriend named Katrina this year.
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