Hell No; I Won't Go!

So the southeastern coast of the US, where I live, is maybe-possibly-could-be-in-the-path of a hurricane that is predicted to make landfall near me sometime in the next couple of days. I really don't worry about hurricanes anymore, not since the BIG one of 1998. Now, I have a lot of respect for Mother Nature, but once you've been through what I've been through, you kind of take it all in stride. In 1998, there was a massive storm approaching the coast. This sucker, Bonnie, was so huge and so terrifyingly strong that pretty much the entire southeastern seaboard was required to evacuate. Boy was just a toddler at the time, still in diapers in fact, which is why we decided to evacuate. We figured we owed it to him to make sure he lived long enough to at least be potty trained. So I packed a small cooler with snacks and water, loaded the kid into his carseat and headed north to Atlanta to stay with friends. Man was following us a little later in the day with the cats and a few other irreplaceable items. My goal was to get on Interstate 16, which would pretty much take me where I wanted to go. I was driving the Mommy Mobile (a little Volvo station wagon which was quite possibly THE un-hippest vehicle one could drive), but I had my little guy, good music and some food so I was all set for the 4 hour trip. The short drive to the Georgia border went quick. I was zipping along, belting out the 'Winnie-the-Pooh' song, crossed over the Talmadge Bridge and had the interstate in my sights when I came to a stop...

There was literally a sea of cars in front of me. I downshifted all the way to first gear and there I stayed for TWELVE HOURS, creeping along at maybe 5 miles an hour. We were going so slow, people were picnicking out of the beds of their pick-up trucks and the trunks of their cars WHILE THEY WERE STILL DRIVING! Families were walking behind their cars, pushing little ones in strollers, tossing frisbees, etc. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. It was like Interstate 16 was a Wal-Mart parking lot on a Friday night. It was the worlds biggest and slowest parade and it totally sucked. After 3 hours in traffic, I left the first of many messages on my friends answering machine. It was something along the lines of "Way more traffic than I expected...I'll be there a little bit later than I thought." Another hour later, I called her back and said "This is really getting on my nerves...I have been driving at like, 2 miles an hour for HOURS now...hopefully I'll be there soon." The next message was "I was going to turn around, but all the southbound lanes have been changed into northbound only. Things are looking up, though...we're cruising along at almost 20 miles an hour now! Be there in no time at all!" The next call was a bit more panicky..."OK, it's been 7 hours now, I am out of food, I have to pee, Boy is crying, people are getting UGLY out here. I'll call you when I get closer." Another hour or so later, I left this message: "My house AND my entire city better be LEVELED by this bitch, or I am going to be REALLY mad I have sat in this freakin' horrible car on this damn road for MORE THAN EIGHT HOURS FOR NO REASON." Hour nine's phone message was unintelligible, as I was by that time hyperventilating. An hour later, my message held the promise of death to the jerks who had erroneously forecast this monster storm hitting the Florida/Georgia/South Carolina coast. Later still, gut-wrenching sobs and shrieks of frustration that I still had not even reached the half way point to Atlanta were preserved on on the celluloid of my friends machine. My last message, at 11:00 at night explained that I was spending the night at some church a mere 85 miles from home...I was not being allowed to turn around and go home, even though the emergency had long passed. Man, who left our home some 6 hours AFTER me and Boy did, turned around and doubled back on the 'back' roads to meet us at the church that housed us all for the next two days, until the southbound lanes of the interstate had been re-opened and we could get home again.

So that's why hurricanes don't freak me out...I have been and am going to continue to be one of those weird people you see being interviewed on The Weather Channel who says "hell no, I'm not evacuating..."