Gustav

12:30 a.m.
The wind is gradually increasing, and the dark night air is filling up with moisture, as Gustav approaches land. We are all suspended in a strange sort of anticipation – Ari and I and our friends have been stocking up on water, food, pet supplies, candles – nearly everything on hurricane preparedness lists. For the past three days, we’ve gone out to the grocery store and bought a few items, then decided that there are a few more things we need, and gone out again. It seems everyone has been approaching things this way, unsure of just how concerned to be, not wanting to get hysterical, but deciding to take precautions just in case. The weather forecasts prove that it is nearly impossible to provide accurate data on when the hurricane will hit and how strong it will be, as the predicted timing and intensity seems to change every half hour.
Governor Bobby Jindal and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin are busy doing what they can to whip up a frenzy. " ‘This is the real deal, this is not a test,’ Nagin said as he issued the [mandatory evacuation] order, warning residents that staying would be ‘one of the biggest mistakes you could make in your life.’ He emphasized that the city will not offer emergency services to anyone who chooses to stay behind.”
Nagin has, in other news coverage, claimed that the storm has a 900 mile footprint of hurricane-force winds – a claim the apparently utterly confused those at the National Weather Center. I figure some intern of his measured the clouds on a doppler map, or something. It may be that Nagin and Jindal are acting hysterical in order to scare people from the city, to keep them safe in case something happens, but I’m cynical, so I think they are both undergoing calculated efforts to make the storm bigger than it actually is, so that later they can illustrate how well they handled the emergency.
After Jindal made a particularly frenzied speech this afternoon, our friend and neighbor Brianne called us and the rest of our group of friends together to meet at her house and discuss what we were all going to do. It was really touching, and I felt fortunate to already be part of a caring knot of people who were going to help each other in any way necessary. There were six or so of us there, and we made plans for some to sleep in others’ houses – those who were likely to lose power for a while, and those who live alone and just wanted some company to ride it out. We made plans to grill any meat that would spoil, should we lose power for a significant period of time. Ari and I offered our house to anyone who needed a space, since we’re lucky enough to have a lot of room and mattresses, and our landlady Laura told us that we are on the same power grid as the Governor’s Mansion, and therefore should only be out a day or two, if at all. We called newcomers to the department who live alone and might like to join in, and, of course, we calculated how much beer and wine we all had, should we be looking at a serious respite from civilization. Hurricanes are a bit of an excuse to party, and the general idea is to be prepared and then assume a jaunty air. Brianne has a lovely pair of stylin’ “hurricane pants,” and I’m mulling over what pair I’d select.
Everyone is concerned but only a few are nervous, it seems, and only two are evacuating Baton Rouge, and they were (sort of) planning a trip anyway. As I said, there is a weird sort of anticipation, especially today, since it was so hot and still and pretty out (not overcast, not horribly humid). But the wind is moving in, and the predicted storm track certainly does indicate that we’re in for something. Meanwhile, the waiting is irritating because we’re all unsure what we’re waiting for – lots of wind and rain? A couple days without power? Or a few hours of sitting in the closet, listening to wind like a freightrain batter the house? I admit I started becoming concerned when Laura pointed out that the aforementioned closet is our safe place, should we need one.
The safe place, though, would have to be our bathroom, which is quite protected, despite the one window. The closet would be insufficient because our friends Andy and Starr have evacuated New Orleans and are staying with us, bringing three cats in tow. Starr also has a pet spider, whose name I can’t remember, which must be freaking Ari out a little, arachnaphobe he is.
It seems very strange to be designating safe spaces in the house, as well as to be planning to pack bags with emergency supplies tomorrow, should there be a need to evacuate even from here. I don’t think that is likely, but want to be ready if necessary. I do admit that if after all this preparation, the storm doesn’t do much at all, I will be kind of disappointed. Of course, I don’t want anyone hurt, but I’m ready for a serious event here.