underdogishere

Those of you that have been reading this blog for a while (I think there's one of you) may remember that I have an annual tradition called the Renaming of the Storms. It started in 2006, when I realized that the official system of naming hurricanes is boring and just plain lacking in imagination. Since then I've been proposing alternative names, each sharing a common theme. We've had the Season of Cheeses (2006), the Season of Greek Gods (2007), and the Season of Flowers (2008). (Click here to see my previous hurricane-related posts.) My names are designed to be not only interesting, but educational. And this year's group promises to be the most educational and thought-provoking yet:

Ladies and gentlemen, on this, the first day of the 2009 Hurricane Season, I bring you...

...The Season of Mayan Gods.

The Mayans had a really startling pantheon -- startling at least to those of us reared on tamer European gods. But the Mayan gods are an especially appropriate choice, because the word hurricane is derived from the name of their god of gale force winds, Huracan, who also represents H on this year's list.

I've included what these were gods (or goddesses) of, and many make great hurricane names -- check out Muan, "messenger bearing unwelcome tidings," for example. And after the hurricane is past, you can always de-stress with Ekchauh, god of chocolate.

Here we go:

Acan (wine and intoxicating beverages), Bacabs (four giant brothers who hold up the four corners of the sky), Chiccan (four rain serpents -- Gods of Rain), Dubdo (corn), Ekchuah (chocolate), Frog-God (frogs?), Gucumatz (agriculture), Huracan (gale force winds, root of our word hurricane), Ixpiyacoc (creator), Jurupari (a god from the Tupi people of the Amazon: tried and failed to create a totally male-dominated world), Kawil (lightning and fire), Lahunpel (sacrifices), Muan (messenger bearing unwelcome tidings), Ndoyet (death and sacred objects), Oxlahuntiku (thirteen-gods-in-one of the Upper World), Pichana-Gobeche (healing), Quiabelagayo (pleasure and pain), Ramac (an Inca god: "He who speaks"), Sotz (bats), Tohil (fire), Uayeb (five unlucky days), Votan (warfare and death), Wonomi (from the Maidu people of California: creator), Xquic ("Miss Blood"), Yaluk (lightning), Zipacna (Earth's crust)

I wasn't happy with F (Frog-God -- apparently the Mayan name for him is unknown), but that was the only F I had. Also, I had to raid other Native American cultures for J (Tupis), I (Incas), and W (Maidus), because the Mayans didn't have any good candidates of their own. But aside from that, how great is Uayeb -- god of five unlucky days? I've been through hurricanes like that. And isn't it interesting that the same god, Quiabelagayo, is the god of both pleasure and pain? I can see lots of interesting discussions in classrooms all along the Florida penninsular and the Gulf Coast. Also interesting pronounciations -- exactly how do you say Xquic anyway?

Many thanks to the awesome Web site God Checker, which documents thousands of gods, goddesses, and god-lets from scores of religions and cultures. Check them out while you wait for Hurricane Acan, and, oh, by the way, be sure to stock up on hurricane supplies like wine and intoxicating spirits!

Labels: Hurricanes

I woke up this morning and turned on the news, only to hear that Hurricane Gustav has stalled over Haiti.

I immediately felt sick to my stomach.

No, I don't live in Haiti. In fact, I've never been there. I don't even know anyone there.

But I know what it's like to have a storm stalled over you.

If you have never ridden out a storm or hurricane, this is the basic blueprint: You have lots of warning. As the storm approaches, you get ready -- shutters, supplies, gasoline, whatever. Then the storm arrives and you are suddenly housebound and your uppermost thought is:

"Okay, now you're here, begone!"

Yes, as soon as the storm arrives, you wish fervently for it to leave. And, usually, it does, fairly quickly. These storms tend to move fast.

But when a storm stalls over you, as Gustav is doing in Haiti and as Fay did over us exactly a week ago, it's profoundly depressing. You had expected it to be over quickly, but instead you watch the advisories, one after another, heart sinking further with each one. When will it be over? When will we be able to go outside again? Because while the storm is overhead you are trapped and helpless. There's nothing you can do but wait.

At one point last week, the advisories had Fay moving away from us at three miles an hour. To put this in perspective, my normal walking pace is four miles an hour. I could have literally outwalked the storm.

I feel so sorry for the Haitian people, because I have some inkling of what they are suffering, and I hope Gustav is moving on as I type these words.

Labels: Hurricanes

I mentioned in a post a few days ago that I've started a new blog, and that new posts that mention Judi or Princess Sunni would be posted there, instead of here. I've just published a new post there, titled Fay and the Butterfly Gardens. You can read it simply by clicking here. You will need to be approved to read that blog (reason explained in the previous post), but if you would like to be approved, all you need to do is ask. Click here and send me a message. That's all you need to do. I will approve you (as long as you're not Certain Someone). I promise.

Labels: Butterflies, Hurricanes, There's No Need To Fear

Tropical Storm Fay zipped across the Florida pennisula and then chose to hang out right over the city where I live. By hang out, I mean it's been raining hard for more than twenty-four hours. The flooding is far worse from this tropical storm than anything I've ever seen from the six-or-so full-fledged hurricanes that I've been through. Anyway, as a result, I'm not at work today. My employer (wisely) considered it too dangerous for us to be out driving. There are a lot of roads and intersections under water. So... I will while away my time (and, I guess, yours) with this little story about the place where I grew up:

I grew up in a small city (around 12,000 people) in New Hampshire. It was racially and culturally homogeneous. How homogeneous, you ask? Well, I am not exaggerating when I say that in my town, "cultural diversity" meant French Catholics and Irish Catholics. And, to the best of my knowledge, there was only one non-white family in town: We had a single Chinese restaurant, King's, operated by a Chinese family. My mother sometimes called in for take-out, and although I walked over (it was less than ten minutes away), paid the money, and collected the paper bag, I don't recall ever seeing the "King" family outside the restaurant, or any Chinese children.

It wasn't until I started at a Catholic high school down-state that I saw my first black people in the flesh: We had three black students, two brothers and their sister, in our student body of 400. And it wasn't until I arrived at college in Florida that I actually spoke to a black person, face-to-face, for the first time, or that I saw my first Hispanic.

That's how lily-white my town was.

Fast forward to today. My brother recently moved back to our hometown, and I received this email message from him:

...one of the houses we seriously looked at [buying] was being sold by a family from Bosnia. One of the regulars at Leavitt Park down the street wears the Muslim head covering. I took Evelyn to Tardiff Park the other day and I don't know what the only other family in the park was speaking but it wasn't English (it sounded Eastern European). And, tragically, there was a report in the Citizen [Newspaper] of a Laconia man who was killed while working on his car. His birthplace? Laos.

The old town has changed. The ad for the [Laconia Multicultural] Festival notes that Laconia is now home to immigrants or refugees from 30 countries.

Wow. My little hometown has changed.

The funny thing is, it's still around 12,000 people. Just not 12,000 people who are all practically the same.

Labels: Hurricanes

Fay, meet Florida.

Florida, meet Fay.

Wouldn't it be cooler if it was spelled F-e-y instead of F-a-y, as in, Fey: The Psychic Hurricane?

Of course, if the National Hurricane Center only had the sense to listen to me, this would be Hurricane Foxglove, which is way cooler still.

Labels: Hurricanes

Here we are, once again celebrating the first day of Hurricane Season, and here on this blog we have an annual tradition: The Renaming of the Storms. It started two years ago when I explained how boring the official method of naming storms is, and proposed that each year we have, instead, a new set of names following a common theme. In 2006 I proposed the Season of Cheeses. The tradition continued last year with the Season of Greek Gods. I think it was a great success.

This year I humbly suggest a Season of Flowers. There's something appealing incongruous about naming terrible storms after beautiful, colorful, and delicate plants. Here ya go, the tropical storm names for the 2008 season:

Amaryllis, Buttercup, Columbine, Dahlia, Everlasting, Foxglove, Gladiolus, Hydrangea, Iris, Jessamine, Kennedia, Lilac, Milkweed, Nosegay, Oleander, Poinsettia, Quince, Sunflower, Tulip, Violet, Waxflower, Yew, Zephyranth

I could not find any flower names starting with U or X, and, honestly, I wasn't thrilled with what I had to settle for for the letter K, but on the other hand I love Buttercup and Sunflower. Lilac is a tip to my deceased mother -- it was her favorite flower. And Nosegay played an important role in a Nero Wolfe mystery. Yikes!

I hope everyone has a happy and safe Hurricane Season this year!

P.S. And welcome to Tropical Storm Amaryllis (aka Arthur), ushering in the new season over the Yucatan Peninsular today.

Labels: Hurricanes, Nero Wolfe

We weren't worried when we planned this trip to the Caribbean during hurricane season. After all, the "ABC islands" -- Aruba, Bonaire, and Curacao -- are too far south to ever get hurricanes. Right? So... yesterday we flew into Curacao, and this is a satellite image from 7:30 this morning. The little squiggle that the yellow arrow is pointing to is Curacao. The big orange and angry red swirl is Hurricane Felix. Oh joy:



To be honest, we didn't get any hurricane force winds, only storm force, and it was decent enough to pass over mostly in the night. Some of the guests were pretty panicked, but we're Floridians; we slept through it. And, hey, things can only look up from here, right?

Labels: Curacao, Hurricanes, Travel

The National Hurricane Center has just announced the formation of a new tropical depression, which, when it strengthens to a tropical storm, will be named Dean. Dean is currently projected to pass over St. Maarten on Sunday, and, if it arrives here, in Florida, probably as a hurricane, it will be around the weekend of the 25th.

Just when Judi and I are due to fly out...

...to St. Maarten.

That would seriously suck.

(By the way, if they used my suggestions, it would be Hurricane Dionysus instead. No offense to people named Dean, but wouldn't Dionysus be so much cooler?)

Labels: Hurricanes, Travel

Today is the first day of Hurricane Season -- though Mother Nature didn't get the memo: We've already had the first named storm of the year, Andrea. Anyway, last year I explained why I think the current system of naming storms is boring and repetitive, and proposed a new system that uses a fresh set of related and educational names each year. Last year I proposed the Season of Cheeses. This year, I propose a Season of Greek Gods, and offer this humble list for your consideration:

Athena (there are so many A's to choose from!), Bacchae, Charon, Dionysus, Erato (muse of love songs and erotic poetry -- Zeus only knows that this has to do with hurricanes, but I couldn't resist), Furies, Gaia, Hades, Io, Jason, Kerberos, Lethe, Medusa, Nemesis (great name for a hurricane!), Oceanus, Poseidon, Quiritis, Rhea, Styx (the river was named for this goddess of unbreakable oaths -- did you know that?), Typhon, Uranus, Vesta, Xanthos, Zeus

Four of the names -- Charon, Hades, Kerberos, and Styx -- have to do with the underworld, which I thought was fitting. I have not been able to find any Greek dieties that have names beginning with J, Q, V, W, or Y, so there's a mortal sitting in, Jason, and I borrowed Quiritis and Vesta from the Romans. No W or Y hurricanes this year.

Do you have an idea for next year's hurricane names? Please leave me a comment if you do. Thanks!

Labels: Hurricanes

Tropical Storm Andrea, that is.

She might be paying a call on this area this weekend, if she follows the projected track. On the other hand, her "cones" aren't cones but complete circles (something I've never seen before), so it looks like she could go in any direction. If she seems a little indecisive, that's understandable: She's up very early. Hurricane Season isn't even supposed to start for three more weeks. I guess she didn't get the memo.

Hang on! :)

Labels: Hurricanes

It was a week ago today that Tropical Storm Ernesto blew through this area. A coworker sent me a photo that documents the horrific extent of the damage that Ernesto wreaked. I've posted the photo below, but it's so graphic, so shocking, and so visceral that I spaced it down the page a ways, to give you a chance to decide whether or not you want to endure it. Before you scroll down, ask yourself how strong your stomach is. How well do you tolerate scenes of loss and despair? If you think you can take it, scroll down....



And you know what really burns me? Here it's been a week since the storm passed, and I still don't have my FEMA trailer.

Labels: Hurricanes

If you would like to send me an e-mail message -- and who wouldn't? :) -- you can use the new "Send me an e-mail message!" link over on the right, the first one under Links. You can even send the message anonymously, if, like, you know, you're... shy.

And speaking of "over on the right," the list of links and stuff over on the right wasn't over on the right until today, if you used one of the Gecko-based browsers (Mozilla, Firefox, Netscape). Instead it appeared way down at the bottom of the page (which is way down because Blogger insists on displaying the last 365 days of posts, when I've specifically told it to only display 90 -- can anybody tell me what I'm doing wrong?). Anyway, Blogger-dudes, this template has a problem with floats. And call me dumb, but I only realized recently that I could tweak the CSS for my own template. It turns out it wasn't hard to fix it so the list appears where it's supposed to when using Gecko. And -- lo and behold! -- it didn't break MSIE, either. Yay, links!

Ernesto has turned out to be a real dud of a tropical storm.

Labels: Hurricanes, Inner Geek

Ernesto is scheduled to blow through here tomorrow. We aren't especially worried. It's more an inconvenience than a threat. The thing that sucks the most is that where I work we were supposed to have this coming Friday off, but since we're not going to be able to work tomorrow, we're going to have to work Friday instead, as a makeup day. It sucks when your employer can shuffle your days off so that you have the crappiest ones off and have to work on the nice ones. But there you have it. It's a paycheck. And the fact is that we're way behind our factory schedule (due to strong demand for our products), and it's probably true that we can't afford to miss a day of production. Not for something trivial like a tropical storm. Ah, the price of success.

Labels: Hurricanes

It's Hurricane Season, and so I think it's topical to consider about how hurricanes are named.

I'm old enough to remember when hurricanes were only given female names. Eventually this came to be viewed as inappropriate, and in 1979 male names were introduced into the rotation. You may not know this, but it is in fact a rotation: The same names repeat every six years. Unless there's an especially bad storm, and then that name is retired and a new one is chosen. So there will never again be a Hurricane Camille, or Andrew, or Hugo. Or Katrina. And the seemingly innocuous name Fifi has also been retired (1974). Actually, a total of sixty-seven names have been retired, including the Hurricane Twins, Frances and Jeanne, that passed over my home two years ago.

Anyway, the point of this post (yes, this post has a point) is that I'm tired of this system. I'm tired of the same names repeating every six years. I think some variety needs to be injected into the process. I think it's time for some fresh thinking. I think it's time we introduce other series of related names for hurricanes. For example, how about a series of animal species names? We can start off with Hurricanes Aardvark, Bat, and Cheetah. Or Greek Gods. How about Hurricanes Artemis, Boreus, and Calliope? Hurricane Season, after all, could be educational.

If you have any ideas for good series, post a comment or send me a message at gss at att dot net. Or post on your own blog and let me know. In the meantime, I'll contribute my first full list of the names I think we should use for next Season. Dear Readers, welcome to the Season of Cheeses, and say hello to Hurricanes...

Asiago, Bierkase, Caboc, Dunlop, Edam, Fougerus, Gorgonzola, Havarti, Iberico, Jarlsberg, Kugelkase, Limburger, Munster, Neufchatel, Oaxaca, Parmigiano, Quark, Ricotta, Stilton, Taleggio, Ubriaco, Vendomois, Wensleydale, Xynotyro, and Zamorano.

Wensleydale is included as a special homage to Wallace and Grommit. (I would have preferred to use Stinking Bishop for either "S" or "B", but it's two words.) You'll notice there is no "Y" -- no single-word cheese names begin with "Y", as far as I have been able to discover. And for those of you who think I made up Xynotyro, I didn't:

Xynotyro means "sour cheese", but this one does not represent its name. It is made from the mixture of sheep's and goat's milk in various shapes and sizes. Xynotyro is a hard, flaky cheese that melts in the mouth and the flavor is a combination of sweet, burnt caramel, lanolin and the sour taste of the whey. - cheese.com

I know I always look forward to trying a cheese that tastes like lanolin.

Okay, so is anyone at the National Hurricane Center listening?

P.S. Thanks to cheese.com for the assist.

Labels: Hurricanes

At 11:00 am Eastern Time today, Alberto became the first named storm of the hurricane season. A season that started just eleven days ago.

I don't think anyone from Florida reads this blog, and so you probably haven't been following the news, so I'll fill you in:

Alberto is currently projected to pass over the Florida Pennisula during the day on Tuesday. The most likely path is well to the north of where I live, though I am still well inside the cone of probability. However, Alberto is poorly organized, with sustained winds of only 45 mph, and is not expected to strengthen, so it's really nothing to worry about...

...except that we have our first named storm only eleven days into the season.

Oh joy.

Labels: Hurricanes

Here I just said a few weeks ago that I won't post about politics, and my last three posts have been political. So I'll make this one different. I'll make this one meteorological:

Today is June 1st.

Welcome to Hurricane Season.

Labels: Hurricanes

A little over a year ago, I spent a couple of weeks without electricity, thanks to the Hurricane Twins, Frances and Jeanne. I put together a little slideshow with words (you could see it at http://underdogishere.com/albums/frances4.index.htm, but the site is temporarily down), and the final slide talked about that subject:



I have left that front door light on ever since. I've never turned it off. It represents something to me -- I don't know exactly what. If I had to put a word to it without thinking, the word would be "peace." The light represents peace. Every time I come home, even during the day, I see that light on and I know peace. I guess it's all wrapped up in the hurricanes and everything we went through and the idea that it was over. And the idea that no matter what happens, we can get through it.

Why am I telling you this? Because that light has been on now without interruption for a little over a year, but tonight I will be turning it off. I'm going away for a little while, and Halloween is coming, and if I leave it on it will attract trick-or-treaters to a house that is empty and, alas, offers no treats. So the light has to be off.

It's a watershed of sorts. Even though it's only temporary, turning the light off has roiled my emotions. I'll be glad when it's on again.

Labels: Hurricanes, Travel