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TS-almost-Hurricane Isaac: Where it goes nobody knows

Yes, I am still here. I am still keeping an eye on Tropical Storm-Almost-Hurricane Isaac.

Look on TV and you will see that everyone and their special porpoise says the storm will hit New Orleans. Well, of course it will hit New Orleans. I’ve said it many times before and with good reason: The media want to go to New Orleans. Not Cameron, La., or Orange, Texas, or Hardtime, Miss.

The truth is no one knows where the hurricane will hit. Oh, they — various agencies and colleges and the National Hurricane Center — all have an idea. Between them all they say the storm will hit somewhere between here in Jefferson County, Texas, and the Mississippi Gulf Coast.  Maybe not exactly. Maybe the forecasters have it down to a 250-mile radius of New Orleans. All three hurricanes I have experienced — well to be honest I slept through Cat 1 Hurricane Humberto and it sneaked up on just about everyone — during the past seven years here in deepest, darkest Southeast Texas were all predicted to land elsewhere. Sometimes, a couple of times and a couple of places elsewhere.

It was only the day before Hurricanes Rita and Ike that I decided what I would do. Rita — leave. Ike — stay. Both times I woke up about 6 o’clock in the morning to the news of “Guess what? There’s a mandatory evacuation.”  I kind of make calculated guesses about whether I should go or stay based on factors like, the speed and direction of the wind, storm surge, rain, what kind of shelter I have and do I have any reason to stay. As to the last question, the answer was yes, because I would be paid to write about the storm. But I questioned my shelter during Rita and as it turned out, the storm was as fierce where I “evacuated” to my brother’s home 60 miles away as it was at my apartment in Beaumont.

I am no hurricane expert by any means. My guessing as to evacuating might be dangerous, but I think I err on the side of caution, relatively speaking. If you know my life in total like some of my friends, then you would know why I put the “relatively speaking” proviso.

If I were to guess, I’d have to say the storm center of Isaac will land as a Cat 1.5 somewhere between Venice “The End of the World” Louisiana, and Lafayette, La. Why do I say that? Is that because of my adroit knowledge of hurricane modelling and tracking? No, I am operating on what is known in science and other sectors of society as a WAG, for “wild ass guess.”

Wherever it lands, I hope it doesn’t cause a whole lot of damage and that no one is harmed from this act of nature gone wild.

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Isaac. Don’t worry about the forecast track folks, NHC says. Panic!!! Just kidding.

Work has kept me away from the blog lately. A schedule of 36 hours on five days of work also awaits me this week depending on what Isaac (not Hayes) does. I have been keeping my eye on this storm for awhile now and even more so since one of the more reliable computer models has Isaac landing smack dab into the land of EFD. (That’s eight feet deep in case you didn’t know.)

A number of the so-called “spaghetti models” are split between here, there and everywhere. The last two major hurricanes I have experienced involved the National Hurricane Center’s forecast “inching” up the coast until about the day before the storms hit. No fault due the NHC, but what’s a po’ boy to do but pull a solution out of one’s a**.

It is never a good time for a hurricane. It is especially a bad time for one to hit near me due to my precarious financial situation. Perhaps I could get the go-ahead for some freelance work. I don’t know where I would plant myself in the event of a storm. I guess it is as always. This may be the last time for you to donate to the cause if the hurricane hits, provided it turns into a hurricane. If I have the finances to keep going during the storm, I will do so and attempt to write about Isaac from my perspective. If the hurricane doesn’t hit here, which I hope it doesn’t, never mind.

Finally, here is the latest forecast discussion from the National Hurricane Center for Isaac. I have the utmost respect for these folks but the disclaimer at the end is just a bit too much:

THROUGHOUT THE PERIOD…IT IS IMPORTANT NOT TO FOCUS ON THE EXACT FORECAST TRACK DUE TO FORECAST UNCERTAINTIES AND THE FACT THAT SIGNIFICANT HAZARDS EXTEND WELL AWAY FROM THE CENTER.

Uh, pay no attention to that man behind the curtain? Maybe it’s just me.

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Here comes the rain again. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

This morning the rain was falling down on my A/C. It is rather hypnotic, the rain. I really don’t know how to describe it. “teettle, teettle, teettle … ” and so forth. That isn’t a big rain, mind you. Merely found if you wanted to get up and look falls just enough drizzle to keep you in bed and not wanting out. And excuse me for being human but bonus points for having some good ol’ gal next to you who doesn’t talk about the hypno drip-drip-drip outside.

Yes, rain is romantic. It paralyzes. It puts one under. The great, wet anesthesiologist, Dr. (or CNA) Drip-drip. Not to be confused with the college clinic doctor who treated clap.

Unfortunately, I had to get up and go to work. I hear the rain may make a command performance this evening. That wouldn’t be bad at all provided the person who impersonates an elephant living right above me is out doing his/her/its shift work thingaroo. Just thinking of all this is making me sleeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppppppppppppyy …

 

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Weathermeister: “We’re not out of the woods at all yet.”

Our local Channel 6 Beaumont weathermeister, Greg Bostwick, errs on the side of caution most times when hurricanes are concerned. He seems to think Tropical Storm Issac could might possibly may hit more of a western track which might put it somewhere in the Southeast Texas area. “We’re not out of the woods at all yet,” Bostwick said a few minutes ago. If I didn’t quote him exactly sorry. You get the drift. Or will.

Greg has been at Channel 6 for, I don’t know, a long time. He is the best TV weatherman or weatherperson in the greater (as opposed to not greater) Beaumont area. He comes off sometimes as a bit full of himself. That can happen when someone is for a long period, the cock of the walk or vice versa. I guess I can’t blame him no matter how much he annoys me at times.

All of that really doesn’t matter when it comes to hurricanes. Bostwick seems to stick his neck out sometimes when I don’t think he should, as in saying, no way Jose. Somehow I can’t imagine him saying that, by the way. But when he does sound cautious on the side of an approaching storm. I listen a little bit.

And I keep a close watch on the National Hurricane Center, the spaghetti models and the Air Force Reserve Hurricane Hunters out of Keesler AFB, Biloxi, Miss.

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Is reason behind “Suicide by Bridge” similar to that of climbing Mt. Everest?

The old retort as to why does one climb a mountain — “Because it’s there” — may answer a few questions as to human behavior such as that of suicide.

George Mallory was among the climbers during the first three British explorations of Mt. Everest. He was found 75 years after his last and fatal try. Some might ask if one who attempts such a feat has a death wish. Who knows what lurks way down in the recesses of thought. Those who have made the trek to Everett successfully may often appear, at least, to have a zest for living.

Such a dark subject often surfaces in certain communities when someone takes a suicidal leap nearby or if the leaper was a prominent person. The last describes the death ruled by authorities as suicide of Tony Scott. The director who was known for such movies as “Top Gun” and “Beverly Hills Cop II” died after jumping off the Vincent Thomas Bridge. The structure, which spans Los Angeles Harbor, is the fourth longest California bridge. Oddly enough a witness saw Scott ascending the cables in a “determined” fashion, which indeed raises some added mystery in the 68-year-old’s death since he was a known rock climber.

This “suicide by bridge” method of killing oneself  fascinated me for a number of years. Part of the reason is that I have a strange attraction to bridges, that after suffering in my younger years with a fear of heights. I suppose I also have somewhat of  a morbid curiosity. My familiarity with the Vincent Thomas Bridge also piqued my interest in this particular case although I was familiar only with one or two of the director’s films.

I traversed the Thomas, an aqua green suspension bridge, almost daily for the first two months of my life as a sailor on board a Navy ship. My ship was like a fish out of water, pardon the pun, as it was dry-docked in Todd Shipyards on the western end of the bridge in San Pedro, Calif. Nearby and quite visible was a terminal for boats headed for Santa Catalina Island as well as cruise ships such as the Pacific Princess, a.k.a., TV’s “Love Boat” during the time.

The Veterans Memorial Bridge, completed in 1990, runs parallel to the historic Rainbow Bridge over the Neches River and Sabine-Neches waterway. With a 143-foot vertical height — almost 35 feet shorter than its neighbor — it was the first cable stay bridge built in Texas. Photos by Aren Cambre courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

While in the yards we worked four 10-hour days each week and enjoyed a 3-day weekend off to explore LA, Hollywood and beyond provided we didn’t have duty. And duty was the only day we slept on the ship. We drove, those of us with cars like myself, after knocking off to what was back then Naval Station Long Beach on the eastern side of the bridge.

It was an interesting experience driving across the Vincent Thomas, as one could see the bustling industrial economy of Southern California from a birds-eye view. One morning I drove across it going to work and found one of the lanes blocked off. At the top, I discovered the closure was because of filming the 70s TV show “Barnaby Jones,” which starred Buddy Ebsen. Over many years I have recognized the bridge in numbers of film and TV episodes.

Here in Southeast Texas are found a pair of twin bridges that seems to attract suicidal people from time to time. Such structures even have a rather unflattering nickname as “Suicide Bridges.” I have no idea and have not found any data to show how many people have met their deaths from jumping off the almost 75-year-old Rainbow Bridge and its younger adjacent Veterans Memorial Bridge. Needless to say, it is not totally uncommon to hear of those who will just stop their cars on top of the bridge and leap to their deaths.

I am sure I would get an argument from folks debating the reasons and justifications or unjustification of taking one’s own life. And while interesting wondering the reason why one chooses a so-called “landmark bridge” to take a final Swan dive off, certain studies explain  the reason for jumping off those bridge could be as simple as why a mountaineer climbs a mountain. Yes, friends, because it is there.

Studies examining the effectiveness of barriers on bridges to prevent jumpers have failed to find a correlation between preventing suicide on a particular bridge and lowering a community’s suicide rate altogether. These studies looked at such possibilities as the therapeutic qualities such a structure holds to a belief that diving off into water from a high bridge wouldn’t hurt. Obviously, such attempts are not always well thought out and are thus spur-of-the-moment acts.

As social science many times finds, the answer to the most puzzling questions are often the most simple or trite answers lying around for the rest of us lazy researchers to uncover.

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