8 Ways Suburban Apathy Got Me Through Irene: A Hero's Story
Fortunately, my 30-plus years of living in the suburbs, multiple educational degrees and countless pairs of khakis had prepared me for this natural disaster.
Spring Into Action
So on Wednesday --about four days before Hurricane Irene hit -- I began hearing warnings. News commentators threw around words like "Category 3 hurricane," "flooding" and "natural disaster." Instantly, I knew what I had to do: dismiss these reports as utter sensationalist crap. After all, I was on vacation and trying to finish my novel, Notes from the Internet Apocalypse . I couldn't be bothered.Get Batteries for Flashlights
It was the day before the hurricane, and I was still acting as cool as Soren Bowie at a racial purity contest. Still, even though I had no belief in a hurricane happening, I figured a heavy storm or something could knock down a tree, and I guessed it couldn't hurt to, y'know, get some batteries or something. I had just grown back my sideburns for
Next to strippers and chlamydia, I believe these batteries are Ukraine's third-biggest export.
Get Food
Alright, I'll admit it. I was starting to panic. It was Saturday night, and my wife called me. As an afterthought, she hit Target on the way home from the gym and was taking food requests. Because I'm a sophisticated man who has weathered more than 30 winters, my reply was simple but direct: "I dunno. Meat. Stuff we can grill if the stove doesn't work."Smart thinking, because if the stove wasn't working, that would mean the refrigerator wouldn't be, either, but my wife came home with some veggie dogs and chicken cutlets, probably so I wouldn't feel stupid. Also a bunch of water. I guess that was important, too.Oh, by the way, at no point did I actually buy more propane for my grill because, y'know, why would I?Search for Potential Hazards
OK. Now that the food and lighting situations were handled adeptly, it was time to search out potential harms. I hadn't seen a real hurricane since the '80s, but I seemed to recall something about taping windows. I hadn't inquired about the right kind of tape to use, and I certainly hadn't bought any tape at Home Depot, but I did have some painter's tape lying around. I thought it would be perfect, mostly because it wouldn't leave gummy marks on the glass. I went to work:
No hurricane is gonna mess with my blue asterisk of protection!
This felt kinda like knocking your own books down in junior high before a bully could.
My hurricane plan involved a lot of praying for wind in the direction of my least favorite neighbor.
Protect the Children
OK, so now it was late Saturday night, and all I could do was wait for this hurricane that was anything from a Category 1 to a Category 3. Occasionally, I'd go to the kitchen and see how that one big tree was blowing. It was blowing. It was at this point that I realized something. We'd put our child to bed directly in the path of the one tree that could crush our house. Perhaps the basement would have been a better idea. Or any one of the rooms in the house that were not directly in the path of the precarious giant pine human-swatter. So I guessed there was nothing to do but wake him up. But then I'd have to drag his mattress downstairs, and by that time he might wake up too much to get back to sleep, and then I'd have to get offline and turn off the TV and talk to him and stuff. So I decided I'd sleep on his floor. See, that way my Spidey sense would wake me before it crushed through his roof and my super strength would allow me to catch the tree before it crushed my boy. And as I fell to sleep, lulled by the streaming of
"And remember: When you're attacked by a tree, use your tiger claw ... oh, and also, in 10 years when Seanbaby is old and feeble, avenge your father!"
Taking Stock
I awoke Sunday morning to a light rain and moderate wind. Irene was supposed to have struck in the night, but apparently was having too much fun in Jersey to do much damage. (In truth, the Molly Pitcher rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike does have a kickass Roy Rogers and a machine that crushes your pennies into landmarks!) The tree was standing. I hadn't lost electricity."Why are you in my room, Dad?" my son asked."In case the tree crashed into your room.""You said that was impossible before I went to bed.""Did I? Hmm. WHO WANTS PANCAKES?!"We watched the news over breakfast. Apparently, the worst hadn't hit us yet. Reporters in slickers were at coastal beachfronts. One woman on Long Beach Island in Jersey was touting the "awesome" power of the hurricane by bragging about 20-foot waves that looked 5 feet high to me. Then she tried to capture the majesty of the storm for us by putting her microphone on the handrail of the boardwalk. It was convincing proof that you can be functionally retarded and still be a news reporter. Also one anchorwoman kept referring to field reporter Wendy Gillette as "Windy" Gillette. More proof.Oh, and Irene must have not been blowing the right people at the Weather Channel because they downgraded her ass to a tropical storm. What a burn.
Tropical Storm: The meteorological equivalent of erectile dysfunction.
Hunkering Down for the Worst
From 8 to 10 a.m. we were to receive the worst of it, and it did pick up. I watched those trees, picturing crushing blows. I feared the windows and how they might shatter into a thousand knives. Then I watched How to Eat Fried Worms. Did you know Devo did the music for that movie? True story. Then the real horror struck: My 7-year-old daughter said one of the Fried WormsNavigating the Aftermath
It was early Monday morning. The worst was officially over. In fact, it was quite a lovely day. And that's when the electricity went out. Probably shut down while repairs were being done. Even my Droid phone wasn't working. Totally shut off. That's right. I had absolutely no way of seeing how much people hated my last column that also paradoxically performed quite well in terms of page views. I was separated from Internet commenters. Brutal.I ventured out into the world with my family. Downed power lines. Uprooted trees and limbs. Not one open Starbucks in a 10-mile radius! It was a strange and unfamiliar world. "Daddy, where will you get your decaf venti latte?" "I don't know, baby. I. just. don't. know."And then we went to Dunkin' Donuts. It's incredible what you'll do in an emergency.
Oh, the humanity!
