disappointment
I am really disappointed in Hurricane Rita.
All of this bluster and show; blotting out half of the Gulf Coast when viewed by satellite, a thousand special reports on the news, and an evacuation that drained the coast of millions, closing out all economic services a full two days before the storm itself arrived... and in the end, when her moment came: sound and fury, signifying... nothing.
The rain was more ferocious when I sat in my rental car upon the high Colorado Plateau in Utah. There is no colossal devastation, no trees torn from branches and tossed through the windshield of my car, no constant wail of emergency vehicles moving fast.
As of one PM, it had stopped raining in Conroe, and the wind has died down. It picked up again at intervals, but this breeze only sought to cool us by blowing away the humidity, and to sweep the roads clean of leaves already fallen. By two-thirty, I could see the sun peeking through the clouds, and by four, sharp stakes of sunlight finally cut broad holes through our bilious cover to reveal the bright blue sky above. The small puddles here and there had already begun to dry under its rays.
Perhaps I should not complain: we have dodged a bullet here today. There will be no more loss of life than there already has been, no hundreds drowned in their cars as they tried to escape, no impoverished neighborhoods washed out to sea. People will be able to return to their homes and their jobs and their lives, and things will continue to be as they have always been.
More than I am disappointed in Rita, I am disappointed in our response to it.
In particular, I am disappointed in my electrical company, Entergy - and more disappointed than usual today.
Andrew really doesn't like cold showers.
Four years ago during Tropical Storm Allison, when the Medical Center of Houston was a sinking wreck, and the 610 loop had become the gateway to Atlantis - I still had power at the height of the storm.
Many of my neighbors are now leaving after the storm because the power is still not back up.
When called, Entergy's recorded message of comfort sounds suspiciously as if it were put up before the hurricane even struck. After all, it talks in present tense about the extensive damage and flooding we're all having to endure.
My walk to survey the devastation reveals power on the other side of the interstate and south of 105. As the afternoon moves into evening, I watch these lights approach my own home - and then stop at the fenceline. My parking lot is well lit, but my apartment is not. By eight PM, all power had been restored to all areas in Conroe except for my complex and a one block section to the North of me.
A robot calls to inform me that power to my area has been restored.
The robot obviously isn't sitting alone in the dark like I am.