Day 1 ~ Threat Level: Extreme




If you look closely, you can see the fear on their easels. This was the scene
outside my workplace at 4:30 p.m. Terrifying, to be sure.
Saturday, 5 p.m. Weather Channel says: Exclusive Threat Level for Maine is Extreme

It's possible the threat of Hurricane Irene has been a tidge exaggerated. Just a bit. Extreme threat level for Maine. Really? From 60 mph winds? WE GET 60 MPH WINDS EVERY WINTER. They're called Nor'easters. These storms are so beloved, my wife's school mascot is the Nor'easter.

Still, I bought 25 pounds of ice. Let me explain. Some people are coming over tomorrow to play cards/cribbage/drinking games and I really need 25 pounds of ice ... in case the power goes out ... to keep the beer cold.

Warm beer is the disaster that concerns me the most.

We rent. We have renter's insurance despite owning nothing valued at more than $200, and that's a rarely-used Kitchen-Aid mixer. We're not responsible for anything at the house. Our newer, less-driven car has 125,000 miles on it. The most this storm could possibly cost me is $200. For a new mixer.

At the grocery store Friday, there were people actually buying supplies. Only during a storm could Doritos be synonomous with supplies. There were seven lines open at The Hannaford, as opposed to the usual two. I just wanted some tasty diet colas*. And water. 

* I found a calorie-free, stevia-sweetened cola. It wasn't terrible.

Our landlord, Jo-Jo, showed minor amounts of concern today in preparing for the storm. The patio furniture and clanging noisemakers in the backyard were removed. She joked about filling a bathtub with water for us. I laughed and then filled an empty glass milk container with water — for my dog.

The nonchalance continued at work. A downtown sidewalk art festival was wrapping up, hence the picture above. My co-workers, God love them, were in their usual singing Saturday mood. The songs, almost invariably from the 1970s, took a weather-related turn, at least: "Ew, how I love the rainy days," the guy next to me said. He followed up quickly with "Here comes the rain."

Yes, storm-mageddon is on its way. We're all going to die. But we will leave behind a lovely trail of sidewalk art.

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