In honor of the exagerated fury of Hurricane Irene, I want to take my readers back to my childhood in Houston, Texas. Houston, of course, is regularly subject to major storms and hurricanes, and since it is built on a swamp, it floods almost instantly. As a child, this was basically like turning the neighborhood into a giant, awesome water park. School would be called off and all the kids would immediately pour into the streets, meeting at Southside Park. Generally, I would trek around the streets with my sisters, Kate, Will, Ben, or some combination thereof. We would end up soaking wet, ant-bitten, and would dodge swimming snakes (most of which were likely poisonous, but eh, no biggie). Then would come family time...
My mother, in addition to being quite a personality, is also an oceanographic engineer. I mention this because it is important to understand that this led to regular use of nautical terminology in our household. Anyway, she would dress up in her oversized (way oversized) raingear and bright red galoshes and station herself in the driveway. Her activities for the day would consist of talking to the neighbors and keeping a weather eye out for large trucks. There was, of course, no shortage of large trucks, because we are talking about Texas. The trucks would usually drive down the flooded roads, and according to my mother, would cause large waves that would crash into and dent the garage door. Therefore, my mom would stand in the driveway screaming "NO WAKE!" at these trucks, often including a combination of hand gestures. I must admit that I quite enjoyed watching her throw the bird at a school bus driver (the bus was empty at the time).
My mother, in addition to being quite a personality, is also an oceanographic engineer. I mention this because it is important to understand that this led to regular use of nautical terminology in our household. Anyway, she would dress up in her oversized (way oversized) raingear and bright red galoshes and station herself in the driveway. Her activities for the day would consist of talking to the neighbors and keeping a weather eye out for large trucks. There was, of course, no shortage of large trucks, because we are talking about Texas. The trucks would usually drive down the flooded roads, and according to my mother, would cause large waves that would crash into and dent the garage door. Therefore, my mom would stand in the driveway screaming "NO WAKE!" at these trucks, often including a combination of hand gestures. I must admit that I quite enjoyed watching her throw the bird at a school bus driver (the bus was empty at the time).
The point is, hurricanes are awesome so long as no major damage is done, and everyone should quit their complaining. And remember: No wake!
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