My brother M is in Mobile, Alabama, directly in the path of a hurricane. He called my mother from the roof of his hotel, where he was taking video of clouds scuttling across the sky at 60 mph. Leave it to members of the media to go to Ground Zero and climb up on the tallest, most exposed thing around. The pictures should be good.
"The winds are supposed to get up to 135 mph," my mom tells me. "The storm's not due until about 3am, but even when he was talking to me, there was this white noise in the background." She demonstrates this by blowing, hard, into the mouthpiece of her telephone in NY. "It's quite annoying, actually."
I agreed. I tried to comfort her, and myself, with the idea that in a natural disaster, it's actually pretty hard to get killed. You either need to be kindof stupid or just really, really unlucky. Like that guy who ran his car into a bunch of horses right after the Loma Prieta earthquake. I hope I'm right. Because it would suck, if you really think about it, to lose a brother.
M's plan is to pull a mattress into the bathroom and spend tonight in the tub. Should be a wild ride.
Me? I'm going to make banana bread for my camping trip and turn in early.
OO,
JD, of the D Family Chronicle
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