Well, Tropical Storm Alberto hit land today. My friend Larry, who lives near Alberto’s landing place, is most likely surfing because of this. Back in the day, if you really wanted to know if a hurricane was coming to Florida, you just went to a beach and counted the surfers. If there were more than ten, we had a hurricane. Between six to ten was a hurricane warning. And less than six was just another day. Now we have all kinds of technological advances so we can figure out at what precise moment, my friend Larry is surfing (at least I think that’s what we’re figuring out here—I never pay much attention to, well, anything, but I digress).
Anyway, a tropical storm is just that: a storm. Look for the fun stuff to hit in July, August and September. Buy your plywood now. Seriously, I can get you great deals.
Now, I love hurricane season because it gives me something to write about. Also, I had my first threesome as the result of 2004’s hurricane, Frances (scared chicks kick ass). But, most importantly, I love hurricane season because I wrote my first piece for Points in Case as a result of it. Here it is if you’d like to read it.
Court Sullivan actually added this part: “provided you aren't the asshole who took the last case of Bud Light from the University of South Florida Exxon during Charley.” I always thought that addition was funny because a) I hate Bud Light, b) there isn’t an Exxon anywhere near USF, and c) he added a cuss word. I had been waiting my whole life to find an editor that added cuss words. It was a a beautiful moment in the history of me, but yet again, I digress (which reminds me of a joke my buddy Main told me).
Main: Nate, it’s a good thing writing ain’t like basketball.
Me: What?
Main: It’s a good thing writing ain’t like basketball or you’d be fucked.
Me: Why?
Main: ‘Cause you hardly ever make a point.
My friends are dicks.
Anyway, if you take anything away from this bumbling ramble, I hope it would be the following: Hurricanes can cause threesomes, kick start writing careers and make good waves for my buddy, Larry, who is probably surfing, right now.
In the words of Dick Fletcher, esteemed weather geek, “Here we go again, Tampa Bay.”