Here we go again!

Well, I am very excited to be back, after the past week in mourn for The Mac Man. But RED ALERT RED ALERT Danger Will Robinson, eeeeeh eeeeeh eeeeeh eeeeeh...when I woke up this mornin' I heard a disturbin' sound. A thousand jingle jangles for the sounds of the thousands of tiny souls fleeing in every direction leading out of the city of New Orleans, my Babylon. Hurricane Gustav is about to stomp a mudhole in the ass of my beautiful home state of Louisiana, a place still reeling from the effects of Hurricane Katrina exactly THREE years ago to The Day! A creeping death feeling has been cast upon the city streets this morning, a virtual warzone, with every man for himself and his neighbor.

A quick stroll around the quaint downtown streets of Spanish Town here in the Chemical City this morning, I mean Capital City, and you could soon feel the keen edge on the folks that had lived thru Katrina. Calm, relaxed, in order and smiling, ready to ride bareback this punk storm called Gustav. What kinda name is Gustav? I bet he's got a weird mustache. Boil this down like crawfish and you end up with one thing for these folks: a three-day excuse for a bender. Get the cards, and your beverage of choice, lots of it, light the candles and hang out. The phrase 'Hurricane Party!' was not invented for nothing. They do happen.

The Over-Under going I heard is 3.75 days without power, subjective to where you live, of course. Based on experience, and the size of this storm, my money is on The Over. But I'm really hoping for better. That's the part I hate most...having to live like pioneers with no electrical comforts of home for an unspecified amount of time, dreadfully wondering if it may come back on today. My only hope there is that power is restored at home before it's back on at the office. Can you imagine? 'Nother story 'nother time.

I, like most here, was already basically prepared for another Hurricane. Batteries in all sizes, boxes of candles, gallons of water, propane for stove & grill, plenty of canned food, bags of ice in ice chests, and booze! Katrina really taught this community a valuable lesson, which is why the stores have been swamped and sold out of these type basics since about Wednesday or Thursday. Everybody's done checked on Momma and Grandmaw too! It's now Sunday afternoon, with this monster about 422 miles southeast of where I sit, Gustav, coming in T-minus twelve hours and counting, to party with his friends Wind Damage, Flooding, Torrential Rain, and Widespread Power Outage! You've met them before, I'm sure, but the pleasure is all mine, really I'm sure.

My heart goes out to all those that need assistance evacuating their homes or hospital rooms, and those needing help in any way over the next few days. All you trailer parks out there, we got your back! I pray that the City of New Orleans does not flood again. Floating dead bodies and aggravated looting don't look too cool to me. The French Quarter and all of the New Orleans area have an 8:00 pm curfew tonight. That bugs me out. The National Guard has been called in, and are policing the city and setting up triage in key points. The LSU Campus is sort of a home base for medical operations, with Hueys flying back and forth from New Orleans delivering evacuees and supplies. Like I said, it looks like a warzone. I am still haunted by images of these same helicopters flying bodybags from New Orleans to the LSU PMAC area during the days following Katrina. The newscasts tell me our state is much better prepared now, but we are in an official state of emergency and under official hurricane warning even this far inland. Hang on to your hat...this is gonna get ugly. Here we go again! I don't like this feeling, it is too familiar.

It may be a few days before I can post again, but it won't be another week of silence for someone famous dying. Hopefully it will only be bad for a little while, and we'll be back to normal like clockwork, zero casualties. I sure hope that's true. Here we go again.

week of silence for the MAC MAN.

Just as I try to get my mojo working and get this silly little blog off the ground, along comes a catastrophic event of the worst kind, shutting me down like the electricity during a hurricane.

You probably do not recall the mentioning of my penthouse at the La Quinta in Tuscaloosa in my virgin post. (the only other post for the moment.) But it was then and there whilst I kicked it in my nicotine-stained summer day-rental by the highway, that I was slapped in the face two times by the television news show lead story. BERNIE MAC dies of natural causes. I felt a great disturbance in the force. It was as if a billion tiny laughters went silent in the windy night. I thought to myself, damn that brother was not too many years older than me. Then in a flash of an instant, I thought of how many times he made me laugh, and all the jokes I've heard him tell, and how much I would like to by funny like him with everyone. And then in the same exact amount of flash as before, I tried to imagine all of the standup routines and movie appearances and sitcom episodes, and pay-per-view specials that he WOULD NEVER DO, and I wanted to start crying. I mean a heavy-duty weight came down on my heart. You know, like on TV when you see a grand piano fall from a hi-rise apartment and slam explosively on the ground. Sadness and pain, not comedic genius happiness and joy.

I guess that's what bothers me the most about it. Not so much that he actually passed away, but the last thing I'll ever remember about The Mac Man is how much it hurt to hear that he was gone. That is what I call brutal irony. One of the funniest humans ever, and his last bit was not comedy, but tragedy.

S0, I profess a week of silence in observance of the passing of the one and only Bernie Mac. May we all laugh eternally.

You can leave a horse to water...

How must it feel to be able to say "I'm the fastest swimmer EVER!"? History of man vs. Me, I win. Michael Phelps is a stud. He shattered a world record this morning, live on Tuscaloosa channel 13, at about 3am CST, men's 400m indy. He literally left the rest of the field in his wake, apparently in a completely separate race all his own. I found it pretty damn remarkable to witness, truly a defining moment in yet another fanstatic festival de sportes, the 2008 Beijing Olympics. For a moment I forgot I was camped out deep within penthouse #233 @ the oh-so luxurious La Quinta Inn, L.A. That's Lower Alabama, China... ... ...China!

Everybody's doing it.

OK, I gave in to peer pressure and have started this blog. Let's see where it goes.
I am leaving for Tuscaloosa in about 2 hours, for recon to bring back my first blog story.
Hang on to your hats.
Out.