My Sunday Feeling

Well, Hurricane Laura didn't amount to much here in Central Arkansas.  And I'm not complaining.  

She got my attention when she was revving up to what became briefly a Category 4 hurricane when she was out in the Gulf.  But what really got my attention was when I saw that about 1/3 of Arkansas, Pulaski County included, was under a Tropical Storm Warning.  I don't recall being under those conditions since I left Orleans Parish eons ago.  

I mean, Little Rock ain't exactly known for being East Galveston.  

As far as I know, although I didn't ask for a show of hands, I'm the only person in residence here  who has ever been through one of these events.  So a couple of days before landfall I went out for supplies.

As I was making my list, I remembered back when I was at Tulane during my first hurricane.  It was either Frederick or David.  I don't recall.  I do recall local legendary meterologist Nash Roberts, who was pretty much the voice of God in these matters, predicting that it was going to come up the mouth of the Mississippi.  I didn't know much.  But that got my attention.  So I went down the street to the K and B on St. Charles to get some stuff before hightailing it to Baton Rouge to ride it out with some friends.  

I vividly recall to this day the lady ahead of me in the checkout line.  In her basket she had the following essential hurricane items:  3 votive candles, a six pack of Dixie, a carton of Winstons, 2 bottles of wine, a package of batteries, a box of Slim-Fast bars and a can of contraceptive foam.  

You can't get much more New Orleans than that.

My list for Laura was much more utilitarian than the lady at the K and B not to mention much less exotic.  I got an extra combination flashlight/lantern thing from the hardware store.  I bought extra batteries.  I bought paper for the printer (because we were out) and I made a liquor store run.  I gassed the car up. The Catholic bookstore closed some time ago so I couldn't load up on rosary beads and votive candles.  But I figured that putting a Book of Discipline out on the porch might create some good juju and keep Laura at bay.  

After all, I remembered the last hurricane that blew through here back around 2005 or so.  I was at a party in the clubhouse of a tennis community south of here on the county line.  I was talking to a man and drinking a beer when the outer band of Rita started bending trees over out of the lawn.  I bid my farewells and got the hell out of Otter Creek.  

I drove a Nissan Pathfinder back in those days.  It soon proved to be a little too high profile for optimal driving in a hurricane.  The rain was coming in sideways.  A car ahead of me left the road.  The old Pathfinder was rocking and rolling.  So I got off the Interstate and took the back way home.  Which was only marginally safer.

Once home, I poured a glass of wine and went out on the porch to catch the show.  The phone rang.  It was Chris Riviere calling from deep in the heart of Lafourche Parish.  

"How's it going boy?," he asked in the Cajun accent I've been listening to since 1978.

"I'm fine.  At home on the porch. What's up?"

"I'm sitting here watching the Weather Channel.  It looks like Rita is over your house."

"She may be.  Is that why you're calling?"

"Yeah.  That and it occurred to me that I get calls from all over the place during hurricane season. I never get to call anybody to see how they're doing. So I'm calling you."

Hurricane Laura was no Rita.  Although don't tell that to the folks down in Cameron Parish.  But Laura started fizzling once she got past El Dorado, Arkansas.  By the time she made it to the county line here she was a tropical depression.  Just wind and rain signifying, well, not much.  By 7 pm I was dispatched for Mexican food.  Which I set out to procure with no thought to my personal safety whatsoever.

They say that this will be an active hurricane season.  There are a couple of disturbances brewing in the Gulf that they are watching even as I type.  

We're set for batteries.  There's Dixie in the fridge.

And I got time to find some votive candles if I decide that the Methodist juju isn't strong enough.