As a dyed in the wool Panhandle Floridian, there's a certain rhythm to life that includes the unmistakable drumbeat of a pending hurricane season. When June approaches, you can feel a collective shift in the air. It's not just the rising humidity; it's the low hum of anxiety that seems to settle in like an unwelcome houseguest. You start hearing the same old jokes about how this year will be different— “I’ll get my supplies early this time!” “I have no intention of fighting for a lousy can of albacore tuna” “I’ll pick up water next week, we still have plenty of time before the season starts”—but deep down, we all know what’s coming: the mad scramble.
Let’s be honest, it's time to dig out the hurricane totes now. You know the ones, buried somewhere in the garage under Christmas decorations and last year’s inflatable pool that the dog chewed a hole in and the old broken beach gear. We’ve got to find them. They’re filled with everything we need to survive without electricity for who knows how long: batteries, paper plates, a hand-crank can opener, radio, flashlights, and the ever-elusive D-cell batteries that seem to disappear faster than toilet paper in a pandemic. Checking these totes has become akin to a ceremonial ritual, almost like spring cleaning, except it’s more about preparing for a potential apocalypse.
Next up is the race to the store. You’d think we’d learn to shop early, but no, it’s always a last-minute dash. Water flies off the shelves so fast you’d think it’s made of gold. Charcoal and propane gas tanks? Good luck. It’s like a scene from "The Hunger Games"—may the odds be ever in your favor. And let’s not forget the pop-tarts. For some reason, when facing potential disaster and loss of life, nothing says comfort food like sugary, frosted pastries.
Gas stations become scenes of sheer chaos. Lines stretch for blocks, and the tension is palpable. People fill up everything they can, riding lawn mowers, boats, trains, planes and automobiles including what appears to be 8, no, 10 extra gas cans that have been sitting in the garage gathering dust since this time last year. Is that a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket that guy is filling up with gas? No, better not ask. Ice is another hot commodity. Everyone’s suddenly filling coolers like they’re planning for the world's longest tailgate party. That reminds me, I need to fill up the tub with water when I get home….so don’t let me forget. I can live without a lot of things, but no water to flush the toilet is where I draw a hard line!
Boarding up houses is almost an art form. Those luckily enough to have hurricane shutters flaunt it over the rest us as they leisurely close and lock them tight all the while making sure not to spill their sweet iced tea. Some people go all out with plywood and hurricane clips, turning their homes into fortresses. Others? A little more laissez-faire, trusting their windows to the wind gods with a simple strip of masking tape. Sandbags get filled up and piled up, creating makeshift moats around our home. It's all very medieval, except instead of fending off invaders, we're hoping to keep our living rooms dry and our sofas from floating away.
Let’s not forget the pets. Oh, the pets! As you’re loading up on supplies for yourself, you’re also stock piling pet food, kennels, maybe some rain boots and jacket for Harlee who doesn’t like getting her paws wet, and definitely some extra treats. Because if you’re going to be hunkered down for days, your furry friends deserve some comfort too, but let’s be honest here, you’re not giving up any of your Pop-Tarts so remember those pup treats. Medications are another big one. You do not want to be caught in a storm without your Xanax, I mean necessary prescriptions. And, of course, beer. A well-stocked hurricane shelter must include beer. It’s practically a law.
Gather the family, locate the insurance papers, have your evacuation plan in place, suitcase on standby, cash in hand, ready set, June 1st, GO.
Living in hurricane alley, as we like to call it, you get used to the routine, but it never really gets easier. This year, the nasty meteorologists are predicting a particularly active season. They’ve even run out of names once or twice before, but this year they’re saying we have more storm names than ever recorded. That’s not exactly comforting.
So here we are, bracing ourselves for what this season might bring. There’s always a mix of fear and a strange sense of camaraderie. We joke about it, sure, but underneath there’s a very real sense of concern. Each year brings its own set of challenges, and this one promises to be a doozy. We’ll do what we always do—prepare, hope for the best, and keep an eye on the sky. And for heaven’s sake, if you see Jim Cantore at the end of your street….run, don’t walk to the next town over.
Stay safe out there, and don’t forget to check your hurricane totes. You just never know when you might need that last can of Spam.
