There is more than New Orleans and the oil spill in a storm

Once again it is time not to panic, not to fret, not to stick your head in the sand, not to freak out. But just look and listen if you live along the Gulf Coast. Tropical Depression 3 may soon become Tropical Storm Bonnie, or not. It may even become Hurricane Bonnie, or not. All of this is not to be confused with Hurricane Bonnie that hit North Carolina in August 1998, inflicting more than $1 billion in damage, if you believe Wikpedia.

Now a lot of the weather forecasters, including the most always careful National Hurricane Center, do not have a lot of high expectations for what is now called TD 3. That’s a good thing, Martha. There is all that oil there in the Central Gulf floating around that the national media seems transfixed upon. Okay, that is a low blow. I too am concerned about the oil and the attempt to permanently stop the leak and get the mega mess cleaned up. It just seems the national media never really shows the concern that they should for the not so sexy spots on the map. That is, they don’t pay attention to it until a hurricane comes and gives a good shot for an anchor to do a “Dan Rather” and perform the now highly-cliched exercise of standing in a wind that is potent enough to knock one down.

The five-day "Cone of Doom" lays out a tremendously uncertain path for a storm of a magnificently conjectural terminations.

Hey, there are people out there in places other than New Orleans! Cameron, La., was obliterated 53 years ago. The National Weather Service in Lake Charles now puts the total deaths at 500. The unknown toll has teetered between 300-500 for years. Audrey came in with a 12-foot  storm surge on the town some three feet above sea level with winds gusts estimated at 150 mph.

Some 50 years later, Hurricane Rita socked the little town and parish seat of Cameron once again with a storm surge of around 12 feet and with 100-mph winds in tow. The death toll has always been screwy with Rita but one report said one person died in Cameron. Nevertheless, from one who visited not long afterward, little stood there after Rita other than the Cameron Parish Courthouse.

As was the case with Rita, the 1,200-some odd residents of Cameron had long ago learned when a hurricane is coming, there is no reason under the sun you can’t see to stick around. So when Ike once again flattened Cameron in 2008 with massive 22-feet tidal surges, folks got out of its way.

Cameron is only one town. There were many others in the path of Rita and Ike and Gustav and Katrina and on and on. I just picked Cameron because I visited it for a vacation day less than a year after Rita slammed it.  I sat around on a rainy, cold afternoon at some bar in the tiny downtown Cameron — impressed that it had more than one bar — that disappeared after Rita, listening that afternoon, laughing and drinking some beers with a bunch of aging Cajun men and later with a dazzling Acadian lady who was probably the best looking woman in Cameron. Then, I visited that same place a year later for a story I was writing and saw very little I knew that remained of this pleasant little place I had once visited other than the big, old courthouse which seemed to be perched up on a hill, if you can call three or four feet a hill.

TD 3 may not be much more than it now is. It may be a tropical storm, which is what a lot of the models seem to predict. It seems headed for the middle Louisiana coast, although some models put the center of the storm landing around Cameron or Sabine Pass, Texas. The latter of which is about 45 miles north of where I live.

But as I have said and have said again, now with experience, tropical weather flare-ups seldom go where they are supposed to go. They also sometime do what they aren’t supposed to do. I say that not to scare anyone, nor to make it look as if I am smack dab in the middle of danger, like I have been before with a couple of these storms. I am just saying what I am just saying. It’s hurricane season, ya’ll. Time to keep heads up. Crank up the old The Clash CD and fixate on “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” and dance around until you have a plan in case things start getting nasty.

Does that sound like a plan?

We all know Lindsay Lohans. They are just not rich and famous.

Lindsay Lohan is going to jail. But for how long? That is the big question floating around in the media today for all to see.

Too bad the big question isn’t: Who is Lindsay Lohan?

I might have seen her in a movie. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I did once. I think she played this juvenile delinquent-type character. Perhaps it was an autobiopic.

The truth is that I don’t watch a lot of movies until they make it to television. And that doesn’t take all that long these days does it? I would never knowingly watch a movie just because it starred Lindsay Lohan. I wouldn’t even watch a movie just because it starred anyone, not even Clint Eastwood, not even John Wayne, rest his soul, not even Salma Hayek. Well, I could make exceptions.

I know Lohan is a big star and she is even more famous because she is infamous. She keeps screwing up. She comes to court late on her sentencing date and on the date she is to report to jail. In other words, she is a twit. Either she is a twit or she is just really messed up on “substances,” or both she is a twit messed up on substances. Got to be one or the other, plus maybe she thinks it is good PR. Who said that even bad PR is good PR? Was that what was said? I don’t know.

A helicopter followed Lindsay Lohan all the way to jail this morning just to see if a photograph could be snapped of her in handcuffs, wearing no underpants. No luck there.

I’ve known people who have gone to jail. Real people. People who aren’t famous and who are just like you and me. I’ve known people who’ve gone to prison. We all know someone who is going through something that some of these famous people we’ve never heard of, sometimes go through, and more. Some of these non-famous people have much more interesting stories than Lindsay Lohan. But most aren’t as famous or as rich or as rich and about to be has-beens if they don’t quit snorting coke or shooting up or whatever it is they are doing to f**k up.

These real people aren’t followed by helicopters. For that, I am grateful. Some people I know might just take a pot shot at “Chopper Dave,” who after all is only doing his job.

The rich and famous are followed and make the news because they are rich and famous. The “common” folks just love to see the big fall far. The real people also like to live vicariously through the Lindsay Lohans of the World. Oh, they cuss them and call them idiots, but like slowing down to watch a car wreck, the real people want to know what the beautiful people are doing every minute of the day.

Too bad the real people don’t realize just how fascinating they are. Who in the World knows what goes on in the minds of the not rich and obscure.

Hotter than Dallas

Do you see the little graphic to the left? It is what the National Weather Service uses to illustrate the forecast for tomorrow in Arlington, Texas. There are also more of these symbols. One  is for this afternoon, another for Sunday and still another for Monday.

It means that the temp is going to be hotter ‘n hell. Hotter than a $2 pistol. Hot enough to fry a construction worker on the sidewalk holding an egg in one hand and Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage in the other.

I mention this for Arlington is where I am going this weekend. Why? Is it not hot enough where I live 45 miles north of Sabine Pass, Texas? Well, it will be hot in Beaumont. This is, after all, mid-July. But there will be a slight chance of thunderstorms and not nearly as hot as in North Central Texas.

My mind usually equates North Central Texas with heat and big thunderstorms and hail. I once saw a storm rain down baseball-sized hail and left the ground in April look as if a blizzard had come through. Oh, the winters are cold there too. I’ve lived in several places in Central and North Central Texas for various periods of time and found the weather is most disagreeable with me.

But I am going to visit some old college friends. These friends were educated, as I  was at the “School of Steve” or “Steve  U.” a.k.a. Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, By God, Texas. So I know my friends are smart enough to have plenty of air conditioning. Thank goodness. Because it’s going to get hot I tell you.

How to heal a broken oil company? A little congressional a** kissing

Boy howdy, talk about kicking an oil company when they’re down, or up, or down.

BP may have finally stopped their well from spewing oil all over the Gulf Coast after a test of a containment cap that had previously leaked. At least, things look rosy for the moment. Of course, that is how BP has managed this environmental disaster for the last three months after the Deepwater Horizon drilling rig went boom, killing 11 crew members.

“BP will fix it and make it all better. I know that because I am from the Coast and I met a man named Scratch at the Crossroads down by Clarksdale who said he’d make me rich and play the guitar like Robert Johnson if I made a TV commercial for BP.”

So it would truly be some good news finally if the cap continues to hold back the old oil. We won’t mention just yet the clean up that will continue and will hopefully intensify once the oil is finally pronounced stop-ped (like, really stopped, man.) Let’s just keep looking for all the bright spots so that the massive Republican congressional ass-kissing of BP doesn’t seem so out of whack with the American sentiment that, actually, believes the BP oil leak is really a bad thing.

And there is this. Some members of Congress want an inquiry into whether BP helped grease the wheels to release the man convicted of bombing Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, in 1988. Let’s see that incident killed 270, including 11 on the ground. Bodies everywhere you go. Um, pile it on like fire wood.

I wonder which U.S. Members of Congress, of the conservative Republican ilk one might assume, will bow down to their masters at BP and cry out: “We’re sorry. So sorry. That I could be such a fool … ” Or “that we could be such fools.” Yeah, something like that. Then, “Smack!” The next sound you hear will the collective loud lips of the Caucus of House Conservatives puckering up for BP. Good for what ails every suffering oil company that might just like to cut corners and might just help let terrorists go free if it gives them free reign in a nation’s oil fields. That’s not say BP is a suffering oil company such as that. Oh no. Uh uh. Nope.

I don't really know, but I told you so about Robert Gibbs

See! I told you so. I told you that White House Press Secretary Robert “I’m A Loser” Gibbs was making a terrible mistake when he said it looked as if the Democrats would lose the House during the November mid-term elections. It was a gaffe! Just as I told you so. Actually, that is not what I told you at all.

Just as one shouldn’t write under the influence of alcohol or drugs, although Edgar Allen Poe sure gave it the old Baltimore try, one shouldn’t write under the influence of pain. Unfortunately, I do that sometime. What is even worse, I write under the influence of pain, mostly without telling anyone. All kinds profundities appear and why would that happen?

There are times that I may write something  such as “much to my chagrin” and I write it just because it is easier to write a cliche than it is to think and explain what one is actually trying to say. I have no idea what “much to my chagrin” means. It don’t mean much to me, but it means much to my chagrin. My little pet chagrin that I keep in a cage with its tiny little wheel.

No. I am lying. I know what “much to my chagrin” means. I was just trying to fool the reader into thinking I was coming clean after years of writing like I know what I am doing. But I really know what I am doing. I just don’t want the reader to know that all the time so I can lure that person into my web of comfort. To let them feel, for just one moment, like they are much more superior to this person writing this garbage. Why would I do that? I haven’t the clue.Well, yes, I actually do. You see, I am a habitual liar. No I’m not. I just lied about being a liar so I could confuse the reader. And why in the world would I want to confuse the reader, the person who reads my words?

Beats me. Much to my chagrin.