Irene, goodnight. Irene, goodnight.
Goodnight, Irene; goodnight, Irene.
I’ll see you in my dreams.

(honestly…I don’t think of the actual song, but that tiny part of “The Drinking Song” by Moxy Fruvous)

I am so over Hurricane Irene and it’s nowhere near New England yet. All the hype annoys me – typical overreactions of the region. First of all, I am not lucky enough to get the awe-inspiring, adrenaline-spiking extreme weather that I crave. No, I don’t want people getting hurt or property getting damaged. But high winds and pounding rain are just so exhilarating.

Plus, I’ve been following the path/timeline on The New York Timeshurricane tracker. At the time I’m writing this, the eye of Irene is off the coast of South Carolina, with tropical storm-force winds just hitting the coast line. Irene should downgrade to Category 1 around 2am Saturday morning (off the coast of North Carolina), and will downgrade even further to a tropical storm early Sunday morning, when it’s only at New Jersey.

I’m also annoyed by the use of  “Come on, Irene!” You know, to the tune of “Come on, Eileen.” Two different names there, people.

Nonetheless, I did acquire a little extra bottled water, milk, eggs, and bread today (though sadly, I forgot to get rum). And ice cream – Ben & Jerry’s was on sale at Shaw’s yesterday, $2.99 a pint.

I’ve spent a a lot of time today remembering the worst tropical-type weather I’ve ever experienced. It must have been August 1984 – I know The Dude was very young, but old enough to remember it, so that date sounds about right; I would have been 6 and he would have been a few weeks shy of 3.

Anyway…from what I’ve been told, even though we called it a hurricane at the time, it was actually something along the lines of a water spout/tornado. The Mom, The Dude, and I were out driving somewhere; I don’t remember where – maybe it was just to get provisions for the storm, because we stopped at the grocery store. The Mom went inside and left Little The Dude and I in the backseat (it was the early 80’s, in a small town where everyone knew our name; leaving us in the car was perfectly acceptable)

(Thinking of Little The Dude makes me giggle, because Stewie is so much like Baby The Dude it’s scary; a few years from now, he is going to be a total clone of Little The Dude)

While The Mom was in the store, The wind and the rain came up. Hard. This would probably be about when the power went out in the area, trapping The Mom inside the store. The car was shaking in the wind and The Dude and I were getting scared. So we got down on the floor. The Dude, as always, had Mine Too (his blanket) with him, so we made a tent out of it, between the front and back seats. Then there was a clap of thunder so loud and so strong that we actually grabbed onto each other, we were so scared.

(That groaning you hear is The Mom – it’s been 27 years and The Dude still hasn’t forgiven her for leaving us in the car, and he doesn’t let her forget it)

The Mom eventually made her way out of the store and we tried going home. It’s normally a three-mile drive, less than 10 minutes. But we kept running into trees that had fallen and blocked off the entire road, so we had to take a more zig-zagged route home. And when we got there…the arboreal carnage. We’d lost several trees in our backyard – thick-trunked oak trees. And the top of one of them had crashed through the living room windows.

Now hopefully it will cool down, because I’d really like to sleep tonight, and I mean without tossing and turning for over two hours because it’s too hot, even with the fan going. Clean sheets on the bed last night and I really didn’t even get to enjoy them.

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