Hurricanes and the Sky is Falling

By Emmett Burnett

Bring in the dogs and boil the water, hurricane season is upon us.

Every summer, experts advise us to stock up on emergency supplies in case we are hit by ‘the big one.’ We are asked to obtain non perishable foods - Vienna sausages, pop tarts, and pork rinds – in other words: my diet.

In the event of power outages, they say to eliminate waste and spoilage, empty our refrigerators as much as possible. As a freelance writer, having an empty refrigerator has never been a problem. But for others this is an ordeal. In fact part of the problem with hurricanes is the hysteria preparing for it and the news coverage that follows.

The instant a tropical wave forms over the African Coast, local TV weather forecasters seize the airwaves. With microphone in one hand, hairspray in the other we are bombarded with worse case scenarios. When the storm hits live news feeds blare with trench coated, soaked to the bone reporters proclaiming: Hurricanes spawn rain. “Dave it’s really raining hard here,” one meteorologist stated, “very bad outside”. So why are you standing outside? You just spent two weeks telling the rest of us not to.

Of course critical emergency information is vital. But you can get it in three minutes from a NOAA weather radio. The worse hurricane I experienced was 1979’s Fredrick. There were no outside communications, didn’t need any. I knew it was bad when my cat flew away. So I question some emergency preparedness advice and responses such as these:

1.Fill y our bathtubs with drinking water. Does anyone really drink from a vessel that naked bodies sat in? I’ll stay thirsty.

2.“Stay off of the Causeway; it will flood.” Ya’ think? Next time you are on the Causeway try this: Take a gallon of Kool-Aid, pour it over the seawall. The Causeway will flood.

3.“This hurricane wants to take the same path as Katrina.” Hurricanes don’t want to do anything. They can’t think. They are a force of hot air, much like congress.

4.On-site news reporter interviewing a victim: Ma’am was the storm that ravaged your trailer park really that bad? “Yes, that’s why I’m spending my moment on television in hair curlers, moo moo dress, and no teeth.”

5.“The storm will get worse before it gets better.” Can’t one say the same for life itself?

6.“When the storm strikes, emergency news services will be there 24/7 on every TV channel.” My cable provider goes down when it’s partly cloudy, can’t wait to watch them during a category 3.

As I write this we are under the torrential rain of Hurricane Gustav. As the storm strikes Louisiana, Alabama TV stations are scanning our area searching for a broken branch, torn awning, shattered window, anything to justify the cost of Doppler radar.

Today there are five other “areas of concern” in the Tropics and the Atlantic. Here’s hoping you find shelter in the storm. And don’t forget your cat.

Olympic Reflections

(From Previously Published Newspaper Column, "So There", by Emmett Burnett)

The 2008 Olympics have peaked and all eyes are on swimming sensation, Michael Phelps – not for winning medals but for what he eats – which is about everything but his medals. This guy became a star when the world discovered he consumes 12 thousand calories a day. Big Deal, I’ve done that at Pizza Hut, where’s my medal?

That’s a personal observation. My Olympian expertise is somewhat limited. The closest I’ve come to bringing home gold is a wisdom tooth filling. But the beauty of writing a column far away from Beijing is that Olympian journalists in the Far East don’t read reviews from the Deep South. Therefore, with no chance of rebuttals, I can report the summer games too. So here is what I saw at the Olympics – or How I Spent My Summer Vacation - from an easy chair tuned to NBC.

First, the setting: The Olympics set the national bar for goodwill fellowship through international competition. So who better to host the games then China, a country where human rights violations outnumber rickshaws. China? Goodwill? Good grief! This is the regime:

- That rerouted precious water from drought stricken farmlands to supply ornamental Olympic Village fountains.

- That monitors and limits internet access to citizens goggling controversially offensive words like ‘freedom.’

- Whose people eat egg rolls on The 4th of July.

Given the Olympic Committee’s options, China was probably the right decision. Summers are just too hot for their other goodwill choice, Iran. And speaking of the Committee, which one of you guys made the trampoline an Olympic event?

I can’t swim like Michael Phelps, leap like Michael Jordon, or dance like Michael Jackson (the last one, I’m glad), but anyone can jump on a trampoline. In fact it’s just about impossible not to. I fell on a trampoline once, bounced 6 times before I could get off. The real challenge to ‘trampolining’ is assembly. As anyone who ever spent hours attaching 850 little springs to stretched fabric, that’s the Olympic event, not jumping.

And there are the equestrian sports. They fly a horse across the world to prance, romp, stomp, and stride before judges. After the noble steed hoofs it front of discerning eyes, a medal is awarded – to whoever is on its back. The horse wins a handful of Cheerios. I think human rights should extend to horses.

But the grand prize of head scratching Olympia goes to the winter sport of ‘curling.’ They don’t do curling in the summer games and few understand it during winter either. Basically, team members hurl stones down an icy floor while fellow players brush the path with brooms. It is a combination of ice hockey and good housekeeping. Apparently the sport of whiskbrooms on ice dates back to 15th century Scotland. I still don’t get bagpipes, don’t expect to accept curling.

Be that as it may, at this printing, the Olympics were a success. The torch will
dim, lap pools drained, and horses will board airplanes for home. For my part, I’m going to Pizza Hut. This is all you can eat buffet day, an opportunity to gobble 12 thousand calories.

Michael Phelps would be proud.

Yard Sales, (from Emmett's Newspaper Column, So There)

By Emmett Burnett

A yard sale is where you take a thousand dollar couch, sell it for 40 bucks and brag about the money you’ve made.

Whatever name you call them: Garage sale, rummage sale, flea market, garage, etc., yard sales serve a purpose and provide a means of unloading our ‘See Rock City’ snow globes. Something makes us think our unused tennis racket, outgrown clothes, and headless Barbie dolls will bring Wal-Mart to its knees. So we set up shop:
What last night was a two car garage, this morning is a shopping mall. I have been on both sides of front yard retail: seller and buyer and so have you. Here are the stories I’ve heard.

The Seller:

A pastor friend was offering a very used, very old, lawn mower for $3 dollars. That’s right, give the preacher five bucks and get 2 dollars change and a vintage grass-cutter. “Will you take two-fifty?” a customer said. Two-fifty?, replied the reverend, “It’s a three dollar lawn mower and you want 50 cents off!? Examining the mower priced cheaper then a cheeseburger, the customer inquired, “Does it work?” The pastor reduced the price to a dollar seventy and left the ministry.

The buyer:

I just returned from what is billed as the “World’s Longest Yard Sale.” Spanning Alabama to Ohio, this is the Super Bowl of previously owned ceramic chickens. Fifty thousand people rummage through stuff another fifty thousand didn’t want. The event covered Highway 127 through five states, 500 miles, and a sea of Beanie Babies (remember paying $200 dollars for a ‘collectors’ Beanie Baby Goldfish? They are two for a quarter now).

The Worlds Longest Yard Sale originated near Nashville. This year’s vendors had great deals on used shoes – 50 cents a pair. This is a good buy if you don’t mind wearing Tennessee footwear once donned by hillbillies.

Kentucky’s specialty was road signs – especially Stop signs. The guy wanted $25 dollars for them which I felt was a rip off. He probably plucked them from the highway, which explains why Kentucky doesn’t have 8 stop signs in the whole state.
Of course there is much more stuff – deer heads from unknown hunters, baby toys, jars, vases, pots, knives, belt buckles, and furniture. Most of it is good furniture. Some serves as reminders of why you thank God for a good job.

I went from Alabama to Ohio and back so you don’t have to. Here is what I learned: When buying yard sale items, make sure it’s an absolute necessity for life. For example, I ran across a stuffed squirrel posed sitting in and paddling a little canoe. Why would a taxidermist do that? I know, the squirrel is basically a rat that climbs trees but should a rodent be immortalized in death by rowing a water craft? “Five dollars and it’s yours,” said the owner.

It looks good on my mantel.