Where Do We Go From Here

We're at a crossroads, my dear; Where do we go from here

While there is a sad bent to this post, it is entirely not my intention for this to be a depressing romp about Hurricane Ike. Frankly, Ike fucked me up. There, I said it. I've been reluctant to admit this little nugget because, well, I had it pretty easy through this entire mess. The worst part of this entire  mess was riding the storm out by myself. It's not that I didn't have options. In fact, I had quite a few people who said, "If we knew, you could have stayed here." No, I just played the stubborn role of, "I'm gonna see this thing through." I won't do it again.

Maybe you won't go maybe you'll stay

The way I see it, a hurricane is the ultimate test of our fight-or-flight response. Inevitably, no matter where the storm hits, you have people either staying for fleeing. I supposed the people who stay are kings of their castles, and will not leave under any circumstances; captains that go down with their ships. Since I do not own a house, I know I cannot fully understand this point of view. However, my decision to wait the storm out by myself was definitely about me staying to protect the place I live in. My roommate was out of town on a predetermined trip, and I just didn't feel that the ol' place should be empty during this entire affair. That, and her beloved Priscilla, a precious yellow lab, was going to need me. I don't actually recall any real scary moments during the storm, but I know that I gave myself a stress headache leading up to it with this unfortunate habit I have of clenching my teeth. That, and I had a bad bout of acid reflux that truly hasn't let up since the storm. In fact, I had an unfortunate episode where I vomited stomach acid as the storm was roiling around the house. Fortunately, this was during one of the brief moments when I had power during the storm. Not to worry, honestly, I felt much better once it was all said and done. I really shouldn't have had all that wine with my neighbors beforehand!

There are others that flee the scene as fast as they can get out. One of my neighbors was highly critical of one such case in our neighborhood. He is also of the King of the Castle mentality, but in a good way. The way he sees it, you have to stay to protect your neighborhood, or else, who will? Very good point, and one that I saw first hand after the storm. I find myself blessed to live in a neighborhood that reacts to things like this like the National Guard, but without all the bureaucratic bullshit. The troops were lined up, and ready to help the moment things started to clear up. One of our most beloved neighbors' house took in a tree. Nothing too terribly bad, but a tree in your attic is a tree in your attic.  But the neighbors rallied, a chain saw was unleashed, and they got to work quickly clearing as much of the debris as humanly possible Sunday morning.

But I get ahead of myself. Saturday, after the storm, I tried to sleep as much as I could before finally getting up to assess the damage. Fortunately, the house did not sustain any major damage. And Priscilla made it through, shaken, but reverting to her bouncy, blonde self in a quick 24-hours. Once the rain had abated, I pulled my car from our garage, and set out to see what Ike had done to my hometown. I ended up around Eastwood first, and saw firsthand the major victims of the storm, trees. As far as I can tell, the Greater Houston area sat in the strongest parts of this storm for an inordinate amount of time. While a good tree can stand up to casual contact with a Category 2 storm, it simply cannot withstand a 3-4 hour bout. I honestly believe the trees we have all seen littered across the Houston area finally just gave up the fight. 

Which takes me back to the whole fight-or-flight problem. I don't know if there is a right decision to make in these cases. Had the wind been blowing in different directions, I know quite a few people who would have had serious problems instead of the simple task of sweeping up leaving and picking up branches. There is an incredible amount of luck involved with standing up to a hurricane. If you decide to, you're basically putting your life in Mother Nature's hands, and hoping for the best. My two nuggets of advice? Trim your trees regularly, and make sure you got yourself a good roof. That's why I believe my roommate's house survived as well as it did. Still, those roots give out, and you've got a large oak tree sitting in my bedroom. 

I know I'm going to miss you either way; It's such a lonely road

Despite a very strong community supporting eachother after the storm, I was most struck by the total isolation I felt afterward. Maybe it was some kind of traumatic scar from sitting through it alone, but I have not truly felt myself since this damn thing blew through Houston. Everything feels so different, so alien. The Astros likely lost a serious chance at the playoffs because of this storm, and I don't that I really know how. I'm not really sure what to make of the Texans season because I don't really know what they've been doing. Well, other than playing bad football. Hell, SPA's season starts next week, and I am almost apathetic. I don't know, it's weird, and it doesn't feel good. And, this is what really rips me up, I feel guilty about it all. #1. I made it through this thing pretty easy. I got my power back less than 48 hours after the storm. I was well taken care of because I live in a generous community of wonderful people. #2. I still haven't really contacted many of the people that I would claim to be important to me. Not that they have contact me either, but I feel completely estranged from people that I do truly care about. It's a surreal twist that I never saw coming.

I was a wee lad of 5 years old when Alicia hit, and the only thing I can remember is walking down the street to our neighbors who had a weeping willow sitting in their back yard that had been literally ripped in half. This was as the eye passed over us. I remember darkness, and I vaguely remember the wind, but that is about it for my hurricane experience. Ike broke my cherry in a very raw and heartless manner, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I've mentioned in this blog before about the looks on people's faces when you invoke the pantheon of major storms. I read an interesting article today about the mayor of Galveston, Lyda Ann Thomas, and perfectly illustrates the psychological weight of living through a hurricane.

"Galveston's mayor talked movingly about her grandfather, nicknamed "Ike," who helped her coastal community recover from the devastating 1900 hurricane that killed an estimated 6,000 residents.

''It sent chills up my spine when I saw (the name) Ike selected for this year's (hurricane) hit list," Thomas said. ''The irony is that his granddaughter might bear the God-awful responsibility of helping my city dig out and bear up under a similar tragic event."

For those of you that aren't from this part of the country, these kinds of statements can seem odd. Hell, the whole concept of giving names to these monsters seems terrible when you think about it. It humanizes a force that is coming to take you and your cities away. And, after the storm has passed, the scars tingle everytime those names are spoken. Fuck Voldemort, mention Carla to a Galveston Island resident, and you'll see true fear. Talk to someone who lived in Houston in 2001 about Allison. The stories are rich with anecdotal charm and also heartbreaking destruction. Houston doesn't remember 2001 all that fondly. We were already reeling from Allison when the Twin Towers fell in September, then we all watched agog as our largest corporation ,Enron, collapsed like no other company in U.S. history. But, I digress.

Where do we go from here (We go) (All I Can Do Is)
Follow the tracks of my tears (Follow The Tracks) (Tears)

In the post-Katrina world, hurricanes have become sensational news fodder. Everyone lines up to see the dead bodies. Everyone, in the case of Ike, was limbering up their pointing finger to lay blame at the feet of one public official or another. Hell, even the public officials were getting in on the game. Sadly, and much like the case with Allison, Houston barely got any attention on the national stage. They will be crunching numbers on this thing for many months to come, but I cannot see where Ike failed to match Katrina's devastation except for the sheer number of people stranded. Houston was also blessed with a most uncharacteristic cool front in the middle of September. If you're an atheist, you're going to have a hard time convincing me there is no God after that bit of weather wizardry. Sorry. 

But let's not get into my hurricane is bigger than yours. The fact is we got roundly ignored. However, the effects were far reaching. People died in Indiana after winds clocking 80+ mph swirled through the midwest. Pardon my french, my fucking 80 mph winds in the Midwest from hurricane?! If that doesn't put the fear of 'canes in ya, you're just dumb. Well, and Wall Street apparently wanted all the attention to themselves.

"I'm going to miss you either way."

Do you have any idea what happened in Wall Street? What about the election of our next president? I don't know about you, but I am damn near lost on the whole freaking mess. I'm just G-O-N-E. The election is weeks away, and I cannot even tell who did what. All I know is that by the time I got my internet back, a couple of banks were calling it quits, and the sky was falling on Wall Street. Here's a pop quiz:

Question #1 
A hurricane slams into the Houston-Galveston area, creating the single greatest power outage in Texas history, and . . .
a. Oil prices drop.

b. Oil prices shoot through the roof.

c. Oil prices stay the same.
d. Screw oil prices, where's my fucking AC?

Okay, so we'd all answer D. Fun time's over. Pre-Ike, we all saw B coming down the pike. However, we actually saw oil drop with gas prices around the country, except in the South where gas suddenly was under a new premium. The gouging I saw at some stations was obscene. Now, my Shell station, located at Polk and Dumble, charged me $3.59 per gallon THIS afternoon; a .10 cent increase since the storm. The gouging punk at Scott and 45? He's got no power to pump his gas. Karma is a realy bitch ladies and gentlemen.

Which brings us, finally, to the subject of this post. Where do we go from here? 

I really don't know. I naively claimed that Houston would bounce back from this faster than most of us would expect. This was Michael before he saw Ike open a can of whoop ass on his beloved city. The scariest part of Ike, for me, is that he literally blew away the large edge this city had on the mounting economic crisis. Ike put us in a very scary place that we are having to face at a time when we are trying to put our lives, not to mention our city, back together. Because I can no longer tell when the media is reporting or overreacting (thank you local hurricane coverage!), I am not sure whether this economic crisis is as bad or worse than they are saying. 

What I do know is that we need Galveston. She's our unconventionally beautiful sister that, despite not possessing our cosmopolitan sophistication, is every bit as interesting and enjoyable. She also represents a substantial chunk of this area's economic punch, and we need it back. Yes, the sad tale of overdevelopment of the island has been laid bare before us. Clearly, we have to rethink exactly what we need to be doing down there. This was not a strong storm, per se, and if we see "The BIG One", it's going to make this look like a picnic.

For now, we just gotta keep going forward. I know I have a good cry in me before all is said and done. I recommend you take some time for one of your own. There is nothing wrong with getting emotional over/after something like this. It was a scary experience, and it took a LOT out of all of us. Take a deep breath, and maybe a pint of Double Chocolate Blue Bell, and let it all out baby. You'll feel better. If you're without power, come over to my house, I'll plug my iPod into my ears, and let you bawl in peace. Whatever you do, take a moment to realize that you made it, and that we're going to get through this. That's really all I have been trying to tell myself as I wrote this post.

And, damn, I think I finally feel like it! 

While I didn't use it exactly how I had planned, the lyrics are from Alicia Key's Where Do We Go From Here.

Dirty, Dirty!

You're traveling through another dimension -- a dimension not only of rain and wind but of Ike. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead: your next stop: the Dirty Side!

So we're going to get hit. It's going to be nasty, it's going to be scary, but it's going to be okay, Houston!

A lot of people are pretty agitated this morning. A friend of mine that works in Clear Lake was told to evacuate Houston. That isn't going to be necessary. Another friend is tweeting about boarding up her windows. That is not going to be necessary. In times like these I turn to the person that everyone turns to in times of need, my Dad. He is a veteran of our last major storm, Alicia. I asked him this morning what he thinks I should do. My roommate is going to be out of town, so I am reluctant to leave our house alone during the storm. He thinks everything is going to be okay, and that I should be fine. But here are some choice nuggets of information that you should take with you.

If you live in a house:

1. Your home is going to make some noises that you never thought it could. It's going to creak, it's going to moan, and you're going to be a little freaked out. Also, flying debris is going to smack your house from time to time, and scare the bejesus out of you. It's all good, your home will surive this storm.

2. The major problem with hurricanes is the wind and tornadoes. Here's the thing about wind. It's going to pick shit up and throw it around. It's possibly going to hit your house. Life happens, deal with it. As for tornadoes, well, Dorothy there isn't enough plywood in the world that'll save a house from a direct hit from a twister. Again, there's just nothing to do but protect yourself. Remember, you know how to handle yourself in these situations.

If you live in an apartment:

1. Visit or contact the leasing office TODAY. They have plans in place for these kinds of situations. Find out what you need to know about your complex. It'll help in the aftermath.

2. Typically, you should be okay, but use some common sense about your windows and the trees that are out there.

Okay, so let's talk about this storm. The scariest thing about this whole deal is that it appears Ike will make landfall in the middle of the night. Do yourself a favor, and go to bed early tomorrow night. At least go to bed at a reasonable hour, and get as much rest as you can before it hits; likely around 2:00 in the morning Saturday. Again, a nighttime storm is just going to be a scary proposition. Rest up people.

As for stocking up. Plan for a couple of days. Things should be fairly back to normal by Monday morning. I say this without an expert opinion, but I'm not expecting things to get irreparably bad. Don't get me wrong, this storm, if it holds its course, is going to share the living shit out of you. But it's more like a really bad roller coaster, and not a catastrophe movie.

Also, just some tips on communication. The lines are going to likely be clogged with phone calls initially. Try texting people instead. Texts use less bandwidth, and can get through easier than a phone call. If you use Twitter, turn on device updates for the people and entities that you might get important information from. Twitter really took off during the California Wild Fires last year. People started twittering information, and it was an amazing transformation of the service. In this case, follow @hurricaneike and @chronhurricane. Turn on device updates before going to bed tomorrow night. 

I think a lot of people are going to be surprised by how fast Houston will bounce back from this storm. You should know that the Houston Ship Channel opened for business as usual the day after Alicia. You should also know that we have learned a lot since then in terms of disaster response and recovery. This is going to be fascinating to watch.

Be safe, be smart and take care of yourselves.

Here we go again

So it would appear that we are facing another threat in the Gulf from Hurricane Ike.

However, before we get to that, let's discuss some final thoughts about Gustav; the "mother of all storms." Yeah, not so much. Still, Gustav is a perfect for understanding everything you'd need to know about a hurricane:

1. You'll never really know where the storm is going until it gets there.
2. The storm of the century can become a piddling nuisance in less than 24 hours.
3. As long as you're in the "Cone of Uncertainty", it's okay to pay attention to what's going on.

Think of hurricanes like the Presidential Election. It's not always something you want to think or talk about, but it's incredibly important to stay informed. 

So let's talk about Ike. He's got a nice trip to Cuba planned. And, by most assessments, looks like he's going to take in the whole island. He is then supposed to jog into the Gulf of Mexico where things get a little fuzzy. The whole thing with Gustav had us in the projected path, but the most reliable computer models had it moving towards its ultimate destination, the western coast of Louisiana. 

Now the problem is that those same models are showing a Ike to head towards the Texas Gulf Coast with a possible landfall Friday night or Saturday morning. Of course, that'll be different tomorrow, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. 

In other words, here we go again . . .

One Angry Swede

So I figure it's time for another post about hurricanes what with Gustav doing his best to become one beast of a storm. Not to sound alarmist, but this is a storm we all need to pay attention to. It does appear that we will avoid a direct hit but, unfortunately, we still aren't out of the woods at this point. However, the past couple of days have gotten me to thinking more about hurricane culture, and just the plain and simple truth that we who have grown up along the Gulf Coast have a better understanding about how the next couple of days are going to shape up.

Like the one word you're going to hear in the next couple of days, and you must hope and pray Gustav doesn't do is wiggle. A 'wiggle' is a small shake in the path of a hurricane. This kind of behavior is one of the main reasons that hurricanes are so freakin' hard to predict. Depending on where you look for information on hurricanes, they could be following at least 16 different computer models. SIXTEEN! And, if you've seen them, they tend to pick 16 different paths. Right now they are predicting landfall in Louisiana because the most reliable computer models this season are predicting that path. This doesn't mean that it's going to happen, it just means that it's likely. Personally, I follow Weather Underground (www.wunderground.com), and consider it to be one of the best resources. I tend to stay away from local coverage because well, it tends to go WAY overboard. It's not their fault really, paranoia leads to more people turning on televisions. More people watching the local news means higher ratings. Higher ratings lead to more ad dollars. Yes, there is a case to be made for responsible journalism, but local and national news sources are businesses that have to make money. Wundergroun is great because it doesn't have a local interest. Oh, and avoid the SciGuy over at the Chronicle; he is simply too quick to raise the alarm. WAY TOO QUICK!

So what is the story on Gustav? Well, I'm expecting him to enter the canon of some of the greatest storms in hurricane lore. Andrew, Hugo, Katrina, Carla, the list is fairly legendary. There is not likely to be another Gustav, and he will leave a very real mark wherever he hits. Right now, it appears that he will hit land as a Category 4 storm. That's one step up from Katrina and Alicia, the last major hurricane to strike the Houston area. The main issue to consider is that hurricanes are exponentially dangerous as you start bumping up that scale. Alicia was probably a strong 2 when he finally got to Houston. Again, we have a nice little speed bump for any storm, but Gustav is going to represent a serious problem if he strikes land as a category 4 or 5. Still, all current projections show that he will be a strong 4 when he hits land.

It's actually a good thing that he is going to be hitting 5 status so far out in the Gulf. The one thing I learned about hurricanes during Rita was that hurricanes cannot maintain their strength once they get into the Cat 4 and 5 range. Simply put, they blow themselves out. Rita was the strongest storm in recorded history, but weakened considerably before it hit land despite taking a strong stroll through the warm Gulf waters in 2005. They are expecting Gustav to hit Cat 5 Status while it is over Cuba this evening then dropping back down to a 4 sometime Monday morning. I'd also point out though that this storm wasn't supposed to hit Category 5, much less 4, status a couple of days ago.

Wait, I totally jumped track from the whole wiggle issue. Because of the projected path of the storm, we are still in, what has become the grandaddy of all hurricane cliches, the cone of uncertainty. DUH-DUH-DUH! If Gustav wiggles it, just a little bit, well, it might be time to start thinking about how you are getting the hell out of dodge.

Okay, so let's talk turkey. What should you be doing right now?

1. Have fun.
These are fun times on the Gulf Coast. I don't mean to trivialize the seriousness of this event. There are people evacuating along parts of the entire Gulf Coast as I write this. A major hurricane is always going to be equal parts fear and schadenfreude. For every person that flees a storm, there is another hoisting a alcoholic beverage in defiance.

2. Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, underestimate this storm.
While terribly cliche, the Cone of Uncertainty is still a very accurate statement. While it does not appear that Gustav will hit Houston directly, it is still very much a possibility. By tomorrow afternoon/evening or Monday morning, we should know for certain what this storm is going to do. I am hopeful that the projections haven't swayed from Louisiana over the past few days, but I am not thrilled that a storm that wasn't supposed to get stronger than a Category 3 two days ago is going to reach Cat 5 status tonight. A LOT can change in the next 48 hours, please do not forget that.

3. Walk, don't run.
This is all conjecture, but important. If, and that's a big IF, Gustav decides Houston is a better spot to visit, you may or may not need to evacuate. In any case, he's going to be a serious storm, and it is going to be very dangerous. However, I am not evacuating further than Sugar Land. Galveston and the 50-60 miles of land between the coast and us is going to knock a lot of the smack of Gustav, regardless of how strong he is. Again, it's still going to mean a pretty scary 24 hours, but you might get the chance to see one of the most unnerving and magical parts of a hurricane, the Eye of the storm. Imagine all hell breaking loose around you, only to have it get startling calm and serene. You walk outside, and it's clear outside. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. Your house, the trees, creak because they have just been put through an intense test of their strength and durability. It's really an amazing moment. I still remember the Eye of Alicia. However, when you go out into the eye, be mindful getting back inside before the rest of the storm hits. It is at the Eye Wall that you see the sheer power of a hurricane. Therefore it is the calmest and most dangerous part of the storm.

If you're south and east of Houston, you really need to start thinking about moving to a better location. If you are west and north, you need to seriously consider staying home, but prepare yourself. Kroger is on full alert with plenty of water and supplies. It would not be a bad idea to stock up today or tomorrow. Also, it's probably a good idea to fill your gas tank. Prices, regardless if it comes here or not, are going to rise in the next few days. Protect yourself, and save some money on your next fill-up. It will be more expensive later in the week.

In the end, be smart, and stay informed. There is no shame in being concerned or vigilant for the next 72 hours.

Time Capsule

I spent part of the weekend in Sugar Land because my older sister is visiting with her three kids. My older brother and his wife were also visiting. All in all, it was the first time my immediate family has been in the same place in quite a few years. Like most matriarchs, my mother has boxes and boxes of old documents, art work, report cards, pictures and all the other emphamera that we amass throughout our lives. Whenever I have gotten a letter published in the Chronicle, I am quick to forward these small achievements to my family. Well, it turns out that my older sister wrote a letter to the Chronicle that was published on Saturday, July 12 1980; eight days after her 12th birthday. Yes, I wasn't the first child in my family to find their way to the pages of the Houston Chronicle.

When my mother pulled out the paper that she saved from that day. I knew right away that there was going to be something of interest to me in this paper. I was quite intrigued to flip through the paper. This post is going to be a chronicle (pun intended) of what I found in the Leisure section of a 1980's Houston Chronicle.

The Heading
What's doin' -- Mini Page -- Amusements -- Life style

What's doin'? While this newspaper is only from 1980, long before the 80's we've come to know and love hadn't really emerged. But what's doin' ain't a bad indication of things to come.

Mini Page. If you don't know about the Mini Page, I'm not sure you can call yourself a true child of the Chronicle. Every Saturday morning, my sister and I would spend the first part of our days going through the Mini Page. Our favorite part was the puzzle where you had to find a list of hidden items in some kind of illustration. The word MINI was always one of the items to find. There were Jokes of the Week, Connect-the-Dots and Word Search. Oh, and then some nice educational material that I rarely gave a second thought.

Amusements
We'll get to these in a second.

Life style
I'm not sure when the OED decided that lifestyle was a single word instead of two.

History Repeating Itself?
This issue of the newspaper could have been written today. Take these two stories . .

"Trying to iron out your finances? Consider the newest wrinkle in inflation-fighting: Do-it-yourself home building."

Solving the housing crisis by building your own homes? Maybe we should float this idea to the fine folks at Freddiemac and Fannie Mae. Gary Quinlan, the star of the story, netted $30,000 in savings by building his new home all by himself. While they don't give the address, the house could still be standing today somewhere in the Northwest side of town.

Here's another headline,

"Olympic games seem to be labeled as a political target"

Hmm, doesn't that sound familiar? The article appears to be a wire piece (again, I get this sense of deja vu!) by Bruce Jenner. The article begins discussing the United States' decision to boycott the 1980 Olympics because of the Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan. It goes on to give a very extensive list of various times throughout the history of the Olympics where different countries and individuals have used the Olympic stage for their own political needs. Through the lense of the 28 years between this story and today's Olympiad, I am simply fascinated by the parallels.

But Mr. Jenner puts it best, "So, in retrospect, it should not seem astonishing that the Olympics once again are involved as an instrument of national policy this summer."

Summer Blockbusters
How's this for a movie line-up? Airplane, Empire Strikes Back, Urban Cowboy, The Shining, Fame and Blues Brothers. Not only that, but Cheech & Chongs Next Movie! Funny enough, an article later in the paper declares, "Hollywood and the economy having one of the worst summers in memory." Wow, maybe we should consider keeping stoner movies out of theaters when the economy isn't doing so hot.

Theater District
Because this is something I look at, Society for the Performing Arts was presenting Joffrey Ballet: Lights Up the 80's. There is also an review about a Beethoven program (the Houston Symphony's eighth concert of its Miller Outdoor season) at Hermann Park by none other than Charles Ward; a current performing arts critic for the Houston Chronicle.

Rated NC-17
Houston has long had a reputation for its adult entertainment industry. If the 1980's Chronicle is any indication, it is well earned. I was perusing the addresses of the inordinate amount of adult ads, trying to see if there were any locations that stood out. The one business that stands out is Sugar's. Apparently it had four locations: 2637 Winrock, 5130 Richmond (Currently Cheetah's, ROWR!), 8321 Broadway 6447 Richmond (Currently Deja Vu). Does anyone know if this was the precursor to Rick's Cabaret?

There is the adult theater ad with such stimulating fare as Tangerines, Oh Fanny, The Candy Stripers, Sweetcakes, Getting Off (Winner of the Subtlety Award), Intimate Illusions, Sleepyhead, Seduction, Baby Face and, my favorite, Jail Bait. If you feel dirty, it's okay. I felt the same way.

And we end with the ad for Boobie Rock, "Houston's most unique adult club." You should know that Boobie Rock is now Chances, Houston's most unique lesbian bar.

Who says Houston doesn't appreciate history?

Hurricana

I was going to write this particular entry after Dolly did her thing a week ago. However, Edouard made for a more relevant and interesting subject. I've lived in Houston for my entire life, excluding the four years I spent in Fort Worth going to TCU. Go Frogs!

In that time, I have only experienced one legitimate hurricane, Alicia. In fact, Houston doesn't REALLY have a lot of hurricane lore that you can hold onto. Most of the stories you hear are about hurricanes (1900, Carla, Katrina, Rita) that never even hit Houston.

I've been thinking these past few days how interesting Hurricane Culture is here in Houston. I mean, look at any particular area in the country. In California, there is something about earthquakes, and the locals all have their own personal anecdotes and feelings. Move into the Midwest, and the notions of farming and tornadoes will be the fun topic. Or maybe you want to go all the way up north to the chilly fields of Minnesota. "Hey Carl, it's gonna be a cold one tonight, eh? Grab me a SO-da why dontcha?"

There are a few constants when it comes to hurricanes in Houston.

1. Wet Reporters
There is always a mass panic that is actively egged on by local media. You know some reporter is going to be outside wearing a windbreaker and a ballcap with the stations logo emblazoned across the front. They will be squinting their eyes as they are lashed by wind and rain. I saw ol' Wayne Dulcefino doing that today. Oh, and don't forget when they pan out to show you how windy it is, and how the rain is blowing this way and that. Wayne even parked his car near the tallest building he could find to brace the satellite truck from the terrible wind.

2. Stalled vehicles
This is like one of those comedy bits that never seems to get old. I mean, it's not just a hurricane that causes flooding in these parts. We see a good flood about once a year. It's nothing new, it's a regular thing. I'm not even going to say anything about what you should do, because you already know that by now. You do, right? Nevertheless, there will be a slew of nimrods who plow their two-door sedans right into a body of water, only to have the car stall out in the middle. They then have to get out of the flooded car, and wade to the shore where, inevitably, there is a reporter waiting to ask, "Why did you do it?" You can't write shit that good. I mean, you just can't! And it never fails. Watch the evening news tonight, you'll see it. I guarantee it!

3. Naysayers
For every one person that shows the slightest bit of alarm about the storm, there are ten more that will scoff at the notion; being sure to invoke the name of some other storm from the past. "I remember when Alicia hit . . ." My favorite has always been, "Oh, it's just a tropical storm." Or, even better, "Oh, it's just a Category 1." Guess what, bullets are just pieces of metal until you get hit by one.

4. Hurricane Parties
Definitely my favorite part of the whole celebration. If there isn't going to be an evacuation, and there is good drinking to be had before landfall. You'll find us having some fun at the bars. I have heard many a great tale of the Night Allison Hit. It probably will go down as one of the single best nights to be out in the bars in Houston ever. Bars started serving drinks for free, people were sleeping on the floors. People walked home in the rain because their cars were either flooded out or trapped. Some good partying was had that night. Me? Well, I was out in Sugar Land, not really giving it a second thought. I ended up going to a friend's house for dinner, and didn't really stay all that long. I went to bed thinking about nothing more than what I would want to do in the morning. The next day, I come walking down the stairs, and see trucks floating down a freeway. I asked my dad where that was, and he said, "Houston." WHAT?!

Allison was just a tropical storm. Actually, as you may know, when a hurricane makes landfall, and causes a good deal of damage, they retire the name from the lists. I've heard someone tell me that it is also an insurance thing. In any case, Houston campaigned to get Allison taken off future lists. Today, she is the only storm to have its name retired without reaching hurricane strength.

Dolly really had me thinking last week. I mean, here was a storm hitting the southern tip of Texas, and it goes and dumps a few inches of rain on us over the course of two days. That is real power ladies and gentleman. Again, that was just a dinky little Cat 1. Then we get Edouard, a piddly little swirl of gulf moisture that simply made up its mind to be something, and run straight for us. I suppose the naming of storms is supposed to add some kind of personality to the storm. Oftentimes, the storms fail to produce the fear. Take Edouard for example. I mean, who is Edouard, really? Is he some flaming queen named Edward who changes the spelling of his name to stand out? Is he a greasy thug with a waxed moustache and a Italian cigarette dangling from his lips? Someone said to be last night that they think of a Tango instruction. I suppose that is appropriate. I mean, he does like to twirl the night away, right?

Inevitably, the next storm to come through here is going to be met with a ample amount of skepticism. We've been hearing about the BIG ONE for years now. Oh, add that to the list of things to expect. "Houston is overdo for a big storm." Alicia was in 1983, and apparently conventional wisdom says that we are supposed to get a storm every 10 years or so. I'm starting to think that is all just a bunch of hooey.

Every year, we face the threat of a powerful storm plowing into the Houston area. So does everyone else on the Gulf and Atlantic Coasts. Californians live with the threat of an earthquake everyday. Hell, Hawaii has volcanoes oozing lava all over the place. No matter where you live, there is a specter of Mother Natures fury waiting in the wings to surprise you. We lucked out today, hell, I got a free day of vacation out of the deal. Still, flooding is happening around Houston as I write this. Some people are going to lose their cars, personal belongings will be damaged and ruined, and a few Hurricane parties will be popping up around town tonight; I got invited to one at So Vino on Facebook this morning. I'd like to go, but I also have to work tomorrow. Hurricane Parties are best when you know you're staying home the next day.

I hope you aren't one of the victims of today's weather. I hope you are smart enough to keep your car out of a flooded street. In any case, there doesn't appear to be anything of interest in the Atlantic to watch for now. The next name on the list is Fay. After that we have Gustav. I'm pulling for an angry German hurricane, how about you?

The Mogwai Way

I must admit that I haven't been riding the bus as much as I would have liked lately. Frankly, it was getting pretty hot back in the Spring, and I just assumed that it would be a literal hell riding it in the middle of a hot, Houston summer. I discovered that was not the case this morning.

You see, boys and girls, the sun doesn't get all that high the morning hours here in the summertime. Nope, it takes its sweet ass time rising up in the sky, spending more of its daylight hours in the afternoon sky. Makes a lot of sense when you think about it. So while the mornings are still a bit on the sticky side, they're actually a bit cooler than the spring time.

Well, not exactly, but I have to say that I really appreciate the lives of vampires and mogwais in the summers in Houston. You see, it's not about the heat, it's about the sunlight, and avoiding it as much as you can. I've been tempted, tempted not convinced mind you, to start popping out my trusty umbrella-ella-ella here in the afternoons. Yes, in the blinding sun. The shade, if you have a good breeze, is pretty bearable even in the hottest Houston summer days. Unfortunately, I don't have the testicular fortitude to brave the streets using an umbrella for shade. I mean, the only people I see doing that are very elderly ladies; it doesn't appear to be the pasttime of a good man-about-town.

The other thing about mogwais, you aren't supposed to feed them after midnight. When I consider that fact, I realize Houston isn't all that much different. I mean, House of Pies and Katz's are fine, but let's be honest, the food there only tastes good when you're drunk of your ass. I know there is a semi-burgeoning late-night eats industry developing here in Houston, and I would REALLY love to scope it out for you, but I can't find myself capable of eating after 10:00, much less 12:00. At least, I won't go it alone, and I don't find myself in the company of the people of the night like I used to; most of my crew are quite content calling it a night sometime between 10:00 and 11:00, and are in full conversation with the Sandman by the time the clock strikes twelve.

I was intending to write about my latest culinary happy hour adventure this evening, but I think I am going to have to keep this little secret to myself. It's not everyday that you find a place you can relax in, with good people, great (free) food, and spectacular drinks. I will say that I was quite delighted to discover that chickpeas make some pretty amazing french fries, and that one can never truly know Houston. I don't think you're supposed to know great cities, they are supposed to change on you, surprise you and fill you will joy every day that you wake up in them. I will say that I truly believe one of the main reasons that people don't care more for this city, is that they don't take the time to look at it. I mean, it's pretty hard to see a place that whizzes by at 60+ mph. Believe me, (I don't mean to brag) but I am a pretty damn good driver, and I have seen the difference through the window of a METRO bus.

After one day of riding the bus and rail, I feel closer to this city than I ever imagined. It's not quite a spiritual experience, rather an intense fondness for what's around me. It's really a cool feeling, and I HIGHLY recommend you try it sometime. Don't give me, "It's too ho-ot!" It's Houston dummy, it's going to be effing hot! But I gotta tell you, when I was standing at the corner of Dallas and Main in Downtown this evening, sweating my balls off . . .

(SIDEBAR: Okay so yeah, it's not so bad in the mornings because of the whole tilt of the earth's axis and daylight savings and all that jazz, but at night when all you have is some intense humidity that didn't get slighted by a good thunderstorm or cool by a good breeze, the term sweating your balls off becomes an etheral experience.)

it felt GOOD! Sweating is good, Mehmet Oz told me so in the July issue of Esquire. I trust ol' Dr. Oz, he treats Oprah! Seriously, it's summer in Houston, you're gonna sweat, you might as well OWN it! I'm not saying it's a good idea to be a stinky mess all day. I certainly wasn't, even when I got home. Yes, I took a shower once I got home, but that was because it did get a bit bad on the way home. But that is the point, I was going home, who freakin' cares how I look or even smell. (seriously, I didn't reek people!) You just gotta go the mogwai way, which in Houston, ain't a bad thing. Well, except for that whole thing about water, I love me some pool time in the summer. Thankfully (for some), I don't mulitply in water. Wow, wouldn't that be something?