Yes, it’s time. As storms line up in the Atlantic and Hurricane Earl tip-toes by us, we should all review our hurricane planning. Don’t be caught unprepared and unaware. Come up with a plan, buy some supplies and listen to the advice of experts. And in that spirit, let me offer up a few of my own helpful tips that will get you ready should the big one strike.
• Batteries — Make sure you have enough C batteries. Tons of C batteries. Enough to power the International Space Station. Why C batteries? Because if your house is like mine, every portable lamp, every radio and every other piece of survival equipment you have actually runs on D batteries. And you won’t have a single one of those.
My C battery stash — so large the floor in my closet is sagging under its weight — is thanks to my aunt. Every Christmas she buys my daughter a toy that can run for 5 years on a single C battery. But because she expects we will keep it until the next millennium or maybe because she owns stock in Duracell, she also buys dozens and dozens of backups. Every year!
So all of these batteries are sitting there, waiting to be used and leaking battery acid all over the shelf. And when a real storm comes and I stumble about in the dark looking for them, I will realize the irony of stocking so many unusable batteries, then have a good laugh about it. That will lift spirits better than lighting my house or finding out what emergency personnel are saying on the radio.
• When to get scared — A lot of people — usually snowbirds and transplants — don’t know when to sit tight and wait it out or when to really run for the hills. So I’ll tell you. It’s a very simple test: If the hurricane is named something ominous or frightening — for instance, Vlad, Hannibal, Decapitator or Bad Hank — hang loose. Don’t even bother boarding up the windows or buying a bottle of water. Storms with mean, ominous-sounding names are usually little kittens who rarely hurt anyone.
But the minute you hear about one named something cute and sweet like Dolly, Petunia, Wilfred, Binky or Bunnybear — move to Phoenix! They will rip the roof off your house. These are what I refer to as “Get out of town!” names.
On that note, a quick scan of the National Hurricane Center’s list of names for the 2010 season tells us there will be an Igor (most likely a pussycat) and Hermine (sure to be a hell raiser.)
• Avoid the urge to be on TV — Hurricanes striking your area can be a great opportunity to get some air time on television. TV cameras will be everywhere and you will think to yourself, “Man, if I just water ski through a puddle behind a pickup truck while drinking a beer or twirl a downed power line like a lasso while screaming ‘I love you Weather Channel,’ I’ll be famous!” Yes. And also dead. Remember why people are drawn to these kinds of crazy storm antics on TV: Because they know someone is about to be mortally injured.
Here is a list of things not to do in the glare of TV lights: fall down an open manhole while trudging through a huge flood; scream “I think there’s poop in the water!” while trudging through a huge flood that you suddenly realize is contaminated with raw sewage (you will be an instant sensation on YouTube, but you will also spend a month in a hospital being treated for a flesh-eating virus); drive your car through a sewage-contaminated flood full of open manholes (and possibly sharks) that turns out to be the ocean. All of these scenarios are guaranteed to end with a newscaster closing the segment with, “He was then transported by Life Flight helicopter to a hospital where his family is still laughing at him.”
• Play the odds game — What are the odds that you — an untrained, non-weather forecasting schlub — will be able to predict where a hurricane will hit? Astronomical, right? So, get this: By predicting every storm will make a direct hit on your house, you are effectively ruining the odds that it will ever happen. Get it? It’s genius! I employ this tactic, along with voodoo rituals, Native American hurricane-repellant dances and other unconventional methods. I do it for every storm that forms in the Atlantic, and to date, no storm has ever hit my house.
So give it a shot, and when you start reviewing or writing your own hurricane plan, clip out this column and add it to the list. It might just save your life.