"Laura's Booty Dance" by Unfocused Mike on Flickr

As most of my readers know, I live in Pensacola, Florida. And if you are up on your news—especially the weather—you know that I am in an area that has the potential to become the site of a disaster once again. Tropical storm (or maybe by the time you read this it will be “hurricane”) Ida churns powerfully about in the Gulf of Mexico to bring hurricane season to a smashing close of a finale, having the last word as usual with Mother Nature doing he butt-wiggling “I Told You So, I Told You So, I Told You So” dance. 

Remind me why I moved here to Florida again? 

As of this writing there is little to worry about since Ida is not expected to still be a hurricane at the time of landfall (which she may never make in my area at all). She is expected, however, to intensify just before she enters the chilly waters right off the coast of Florida. 

For those of you who are weather geeks like me, this is an exciting event to monitor as we watch nature’s most power storm get stunned while traversing over waters too cold to supply further energy just to get swept in by sudden cold air currents, and eventually bring not only torrential rains to my area but eventual winter weather to the eastern part of our country. 

For those of you who are laypersons, I offer the following “primary reader” version: 

The Silly Hurricane That Thought It Could

There once was a terrible hurricane named Ida. Like all hurricanes, Ida needed warm water to keep her alive as a horrible storm. So Ida chose the warm waters off of Central America and the Caribbean to grow big and strong as she headed to Carl’s house to blow it down. 

Blowing down Carl’s house would make Ida a happy hurricane, a very happy and fulfilled hurricane indeed! 

Though Ida was strong, she was also stupid. She had not read her calendar to see that Turkey Day was coming (and we all know how cold it can get right before Turkey Day), and Ida didn’t realize that the waters by Carl’s house were now as cold as a bastard’s family reunion. 

Ida also didn’t see that Old Man Winter was waking up and planning to visit Carl on the same day she was coming. Old Man Winter visits Pensacola every year, but that’s about as far south in Florida he is willing to go (he has a warrant out for his arrest in both Miami and Key West for some stupid things he did after consuming too many rum and Cokes…So he hangs around P’cola for a month or two before and after Christmas, living off of Whataburgers® and Bushwackers). 

So when Ida came close to Carl’s house, Old Man Winter—slightly intoxicated from his first few Bushwackers of the season—accidentally bumped into her causing him to vomit all over her. 

If you are a tropical storm that relies on warm summer waters to keep your fumes going, the last thing you want is for Old Man Winter to vomit on you. 

Worse than getting covered in puke, Old Man Winter also brought H1N1 with him. Ida has not been vaccinated for H1N1. In fact, she could have received the swine flu shot for free when she visited Nicaragua earlier but at that time she thought, “Nah, I’m never going to get exposed to the swine flu…unless Old Man Winter vomits all over me from drinking too many Bushwackers. But if I get to Pensacola first and destroy all the Bushwackers…”

Shame, shame, Ida. That’s what you get for not planning ahead and thinking you are more powerful than the unforeseen and slightly intoxicated forces of nature. Maybe you’ll remember to get your flu shot next time before you set off on a hellish crusade…oh wait, there won’t be a next time for you.

 In the corner, watching all this play out, stands Mother Nature, wiggling her butt at Ida as she gleefully offers up another “I Told You So, I Told You So, I Told You So” dance.

PHOTO: Laura’s Booty Dance by Unfocused Mike © 2006, all rights reserved.