HELENE

Helene you a bitch.

And a sneaky bitch at that.

We haven’t had a direct hit hurricane since 1964 – leading to LBJ helicoptering to town and ordering delivery of the revetment ‘Johnson Rocks’ – as everything since has been a tropical storm, or less.

He also declared Hurricane Dora a Civil Rights Violator.

We believe ourselves – foolishly perhaps – to be ‘Hurricane proof’, as we’re the furthest point west on the Atlantic coast, same longitude as Pittsburgh.

There’s a rhythm to hurricanes, with most arriving after 3 or 4 days of warnings – maybe even a ‘mandatory’ evacuation call – and the anticipation the best part:

Tracking the storm in 3-hour increments, rooting for ‘wide left’,

Driving around town, empty post-evacuation,

Dinner at the Half Shell the night before everything closes.

Of course, that assumes we don’t take a direct hit…

But none of that for Helene.

She kept shifting west, and we thought we’d have 3-4 hours of high winds and rain.

Which we did – from 1-6A – and I can’t tell you how terrifying it was to listen to that palm tree banging against our bedroom window – though maybe I just did.

Note to self: Have that palm tree taken out and shot.

And worse, the power clicked off at 1:30A Friday morning, not to be ‘restored’ until Sunday afternoon.

And our phone and internet with it.

But once the power’s out, there’s plenty to figure out:

Don’t open the freezer! Things stay frozen for a few days when left alone. Dearly departed Peyton came through it OK – we still haven’t decided what to do with that dog…

Where to get coffee? WinnDixie had it Friday morning – the only business with power – and beef too, of course.

How to watch GA-ALA? We didn’t…

And once in bed, My Captor and I were hot and sweaty, hot and sweaty – sort of like our honeymoon…

But unlike 2017’s TS Irma, when the power was out for 5 days, the whole house generator is now a thing!

As an aside, we actually have a small generator, which we don’t use – much to my brother-in-law’s amaz/usement – he seemed unsatisfied by my explanation that we’d bought it to ward off hurricanes.

Which worked for 5 years, so we may have to figure out how it works.

But My Captor fears we’d end up as part of the “RedNecks who blowed theyselves up” segment on Southern Sportsman.

Fortunately, we have a friend with a whole house generator, and were ‘welcomed wholeheartedly’ to charge our various implements.

Even better, she had extra refrigerator and freezer space, and invited us for dinner. And brunch!

They had powerless – though they’re registered to vote – friends staying with them, which led to a series of repeating conversations/observations:

Do you have phone service? I think I see a bar.

No, a real bar – and it looks like their powers on!

Do you have phone service? My emails won’t download – must be stuck in the chrono synclastic infundibulum.

It’s an eye opener living without electricity – it’s almost as if it runs everything…

A couple of grumbling days aside, we were lucky: No serious damage.

But without power/phones we had no idea what had happened north of here – the devastation heart wrenching.

Which is why Helene was a sneaky bitch: She was very wide, and unexpectedly broke further west, exposing unprepared cities – they were denied dinner at their local Half Shell before hightailing it.

After hearing about the incredible damage, suffering, and deaths, we felt double lucky, double spared.

And I am once again reminded how comforting it is to worry about others…

For 251 more posts like this –each with a wish for relief– go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:

With Appalachia in serious shape post-Helene, how about some banjo music? But I turned down the mullet… Check out Billy Strings, I’ve added ‘M-E-X-I-C-O’, ‘Running’ ‘Dust in a Baggie’ ‘In the Clear’ to the BATN playlist.