Last year's Irene

Here’s last year’s storm Irene making its way up the coast.

I shouldn’t tell anybody this, but these days the thing that reminds most of my mortality if a friggin hurricane. “Oh, gee, I could get hurt!” Pathetic. When I did start thinking like that?

When I was younger (last week?) I’d get dressed up and deliberately go out into those things just feel myself fighting back against the wind and rain. I thought it was fun. Flooded basement, great! A broken window or two? Come get me, you mother!

Now I start watching the Weather Channel five days in advance like everyone else over 50 and worry about my food going bad or having no Internet connection for a few days. That’s probably the worst we’re gonna see up here in Maine, along with the inevitable “localized flooding.” The wimp in me hopes that’s all we get.

But if I lived in New Jersey or on Long Island, then maybe I could really get excited, get my rain gear on and go check on the neighbors.

“Don’t worry, Chance. I’ll be back!”