There's a massive elephant in New Orleans' den right now. Due to possible bad mojo that could be pushed in the direction of the storm by the breath of all the people speculating about when, not if, it will come here, folks in these parts are keeping mum about the elephant until it looks as though we are indisputably in its cone. As you can see, its trunk is projected to sideswipe Puerto Rico and other various Carribean isles, with the further speculation that said pachyderm will start exposing its massive body as it gets closer to the Gulf. Nobody wants the big fat elephant butt to end up right on top of their house in these parts, so most of us are, most likely, quietly stocking up for the worst and reviewing our evacuation plans whilst keeping up the sociable chatter without making reference to the weather in any way, aside from commenting on the oppressive heat, which most of the country is experiencing, so that's okay to talk about, since it isn't a phenomenon isolated to this area. Maybe, once we have reviewed our plans for the sixth time, we can then check out the elephant's presence by the TV set and comment on its strength and what it will do when it musters up the energy to move in our direction. Only then can we answer phone calls from faraway relatives and muster up the courage to confidently banter with Dad about, "Hey, there's a former secretary of state paying y'all a visit down there! Are you ready for 'im?" Yes, we will be going with the contraflow to Baton Rouge if we have to. Yes, our pets are coming with us. No, we won't freak. Not right away, anyway. The problem is, the more the elephant feeds on that warm, toasty water and gets to liking that weather, the bigger he's gonna get. We won't be able to act as though he's not there anymore, and thenwellbescaredoutofourheadsandbarelyholdingittogetherforourfamilies
friendsandeventheworldbecauseweknowwhathappenedlasttimesowhy
shouldthisbeanydifferentreally
(huuuuuge deeep breath)
All I know is, if Jim Cantore's broadcasting from your area, get the hell out. That. Very. Second. The man is a hurricane magnet. The yin to a storm's yang. Move it or lose it if he's around, I say.
3 comments:
Oh dear, it is real. They were tracking it wirelessly throughout my ceramics class tonight, and I remained in denial. S***.
Dang, it sure is hot, ain't it?
"Yes, it IS." she says, gazing past the elephant's trunk while cleaning out her fridge.
8-)
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