This is where we all reminisce about past tropical weather experiences, right? Sadly, my memory's not that good, and I didn't move to the Gulf Coast until 1997. Growing up in College Station, anything that made it the 140 miles or so inland to my house usually amounted to a shitload of rain and some stiff breezes. I do have hazy recollections of being in Ft. Myers, FL when it was brushed by one storm (Agnes?), but then, it rains a lot in Florida.
1. In September, 1998, Frances hit us and dumped about a foot of rain on Houston. The water got up to the top step on our porch before receding (it was a rental, so no big deal). Our upstairs neighbor Scott and I spent most of that morning helping people push their cars off the street, which was mostly pointless, as by the time the majority of those stoners woke up, the water was already into their cars (it was about thigh high on the street).
One girl in particular stands out, however. Not because she had one of them newfangled (at the time) VW Bugs, but because of the huge stash of Hustler magazines she had on her back seat. I love an open-minded woman.
2. When Allison came onshore, dropped 6" of rain, went north, turned around and camped over Houston (dropping 16" of rain in my neighborhood in 10 hours), we had just moved into our house. We (myself, frequent blog guest Denny, and another guy) sat on the porch watching the waters rise until the beer ran out (around 4 AM). The Wife, wisely deciding there was nothing to be done by sitting up and worrying, had gone to bed. I operate on a higher level of neurosis, and was fretting over potential flooding of my nifty new abode. As it turns out, the water never got closer than 15 feet to the house, and I'm pretty confident that if we made it through Allison, we can make it through anything, water-wise.
It's the wind that worries me. Our neighborhood is 60 years old, and we have some massive pine trees. If current models showing Rita hitting somewhere near Matagorda hold up, I think we might be all right. But again, we're still too far our to be sure.
Oh well, anything to keep our minds of that hurricane out there, that may make landfall as a category 3 hurricane, leading to a storm of media coverage, lots of hurricane related damage and possibly prompting calls for the Miami Hurricanes to change their name, right?
Hurricane.
For those obsessing about this like myself, here are a couple places to hang out and savor that icy ball of dread in your stomach:
SciGuy - The Chronicle's Eric Berger
Wunder Blog - Dr. Jeff Masters' hurricane updates
National Hurricane Center - NOAA updates
As a lifelong Miami Hurricane fan and current Houston resident, and as someone who lived through Hurricane Andrew, let me just say that if that storm did not prompt the U to change it's nickname, nothing will.
Those were good times, Pete. And further proof that keeping a 12-pack of beer in one's trunk at all times is not evidence of borderline alchohalism; rather, just good planning.
Come evacuate to beautiful South Jersey, where the sky is clear, the conversation sparkling, the bed comfy and the beer- ice cold. Hang in there Pete!!! JudyCK
I'm living in a lovely state of denial right now. *covering ears and humming*