Playing the hurricane game

You will lose cash and prizes. And there's only one way to win.

Hi, I’m Matt, and Welcome to Steady Beats: a regular column on fitness, books, and finding meaning at mid-life.

I’m squinting at cloud formations.

Every uptick in the breeze makes the hairs stand up my neck.

It’s coming. Soon.

Meanwhile, the rest of world goes about its business, largely unaware or uninterested in the fact that your worldly possessions are about to take a wind-powered, one-way flight to somewhere around West Virginia.

Michael Sklar pointed out to me the oddity of this feeling, of the dread in the pit of your stomach, while everyone else is busy with their own normal stuff. As they should be.

Although I must say, as Milton beared down on and then roared through Florida, I received a lot of heartening messages from friends and family checking in.

Those messages mean a lot, fueling efforts to batten down the hatches and button up everything else.

So, thank you to everyone who checked in. We are fine, and we are fortunate. We’re a couple of big palm trees lighter, but otherwise fine.

Sure, Milton sounds like the name of someone who spent high school getting stuffed into a locker. But this Milton? He shoved Floridans all around, from the Panhandle to the Atlantic.

Playing the hurricane game

There’s only one way to win the hurricane game: don’t die.

Many seem to think you win by cramming as much bottled water and toilet paper as geometrically possible into a standard American SUV.

But that’s false.

You win by surviving. A hurricane’s single saving grace is that gives you warning and a chance to protect yourself. It’s like dodgeball, except the dodgeball is 100 miles wide and moves at 100 MPH.

You have time to duck.

You also win by helping each other out. As I shared above, we had two palms in our front yard snap in half. Before I could even pry the hurricane shutters off the windows the next morning, amazing neighbors were hacking away at the tree trunks with a chainsaw, sweating and sawing like they were going for gold in a lumber sports competition.

That’s the good stuff.

Tales of water and wind

Hurricanes bring sadness and loss and tragedy. But always, amongst the whistling winds and frothing surge, are incredible stories.

Like this one:

Let’s hope he drank all the beer in the cooler while awaiting rescue, as a good Florida Man would.

And to those who like to run out and frolic in the flood waters, take heed:

Still want to paddleboat down your street?

No laughing matter, but …

Death and destruction are not funny. But hurricanes bring moments of absurdity, and in that absurdity are flashes of humor, which can help us cope.

Normally I’d weave in a book recommendation or quote here. I don’t have one today. Instead, I’ll refer you to one of my favorite columns by Dave Barry, in which he shares his top hurricane tips:

STEP 1. Buy enough food and bottled water to last your family for at least three days.

STEP 2. Put these supplies into your car.

STEP 3. Drive to Nebraska and remain there until Halloween.

Nebraska never looked better.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to fortify my house with my remaining 2,721 rolls of two-ply, just in case Milton’s younger sibling comes calling.

---

Thank you for reading Steady Beats #254