Hurricane season is upon us again. We know this here in Florida because the weather gods have already begun flinging tropical bowling balls at us like tourists rushing the gates at Disney on a holiday weekend. “Hurry! Get in there! Get to Peter Pan before the line reaches 90 minutes!”
Last week’s South Florida brush with a tropical weather event wasn’t a doozy by any means. Just a reminder of things to come. Enough to make you sit up and take notice, and wonder what else we have in store this year.
And if 2022 has already taught us anything, it’s that we tropics watchers may find things are more complicated on the planning and preparation front. Inflation stands at more than 8 percent, outrageous gas prices mean it’s cheaper to purchase a backyard nuclear reactor than it is to drive to the grocery store, and even if you could afford to drive there, you probably won’t find much you need on the shelves. Thank you supply chain shortages!
And this is all when the sky is blue and the sun is blazing down.
What happens when the clouds grow dark, the winds pick-up and we Floridians start rushing for hurricane supplies like … well … tourists at the gates of Disney on a holiday weekend? “Hurry! Get in there! Get the last bottle of water!”
(One minor side note: I have at last count a collection of approximately 13 million plastic and metal water bottles in my pantry. They take up more shelf space than the continent of Africa. Why I don’t fill some of those up instead of joining the grocery store stampede for bottled water is a question science is desperately trying to answer.)
Anyway, it’s all to say that this year, hurricanes could be even more troubling. Because forecasters predict this will be an above-normal season for storms, and might bring the kind that think our state would look better as the world’s largest sandbar.
Throw in supply chain issues, and it could wreak havoc.
Already I’m growing concerned. For instance, I can barely find my favorite shampoo anywhere right now. I don’t know why this could be. It has something in it called “baobab,” which sounds like an unappealing noise your intestines might make. I can’t believe anyone else in the world but me would even want it. Yet, I can’t find it. So, what hope do I have for critical emergency supplies? Like my emergency organic face moisturizer, made from Irish peat bog. It’s guaranteed not to feel greasy in the middle of a Cat 3 storm or while chain-sawing a tree off your roof. How am I going to get that?
Or that my favorite tins of canned chicken can only be found in the large cans the size of a watermelon. What am I supposed to do with that? Sit out on the front porch of my power-less house and eat 14 pounds of tinned poultry? I can’t keep the leftovers cool because the fridge is warm, and I can’t leave it out on the counter because the neighborhood raccoons figured out how to pick my locks. I’ll have to eat ALL 14 pounds! I’ll be the first person in history to gain weight during a natural disaster.
Or plywood. Is there any plywood? And what does it cost? All I’ve heard about is the high price of lumber. If you’ve been to lumber yards or hardware stores recently, you’ll see people trying to save money by buying lumber like it’s cold cuts or cheese at the deli. “Yeah, um, give me a 1/4-pound of the 2X4s and a ½-pound of that 2X8. And if you can give me a small piece of that ¾-inch plywood, but slice it real thin so it lasts the entire week.”
My brother and I keep a bunch of pre-cut plywood sheets for our windows at my mother’s. But it’s been such a long time since we’ve needed it that I’m worried the termites have reduced it to printer paper by now.
I fear I’ll be the guy out nailing random stuff over his windows to protect them from flying projectiles. Ever seen someone with a house like this? They’ve nailed up whatever is around. Some leftover fence pickets. An old red wagon. The lawnmower. A bunch of foam pool noodles. A movie poster with Tom Cruise.
What about gas? How far can we really evacuate with prices what they are? They’ll be even more expensive if a storm is threatening. Used to be there was no end to how far you could go if you wanted to get out of the forecast cone. I once considered going to Seattle. Gas was cheap!
Today, I probably can only afford a block west to a neighbor’s house. Pull in there with the car sputtering on fumes. Offer up a 14-pound tin of canned chicken or some spare fence pickets for a night on their floor.
I used to worry about simpler things: Do you go with a lighter or heavier beer for after the storm? Is a nice, shiny machete more effective for scaring off looters than a rusty one? Are Vienna sausages a breakfast food? How many days can you wear the same shirt before your neighbors start to complain?
This year might test us all. We have to start thinking about it. The sooner, the better. Hurricane season always requires preparation and planning. Better get a jump on yours now. And start looking for your favorite cans of chicken soon. Plus, if you have a favorite hurricane moisturizer with peat bog, I suggest you order it now.