Personal note: scenes from a hurricane

| 6:49 pm EDT August 20, 2023
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So the flash flood warning just went out, even though it’s only sprinkling and the wind is 8 mph. That’s the thing about a hurricane. The weather is fine until suddenly it isn’t. Not that there aren’t hints. It’s been unusually humid for days and the sky has been the wrong color. Based on that alone I could have guessed a hurricane was coming, even if I’d never turned on the news. Been through enough of them on the east coast in my youth. Just never thought I’d see one here in Los Angeles.

Hurricane Hilary has already made landfall south of the border, meaning it’ll have to travel about 150 miles over land before it gets here, which will significantly weaken it first. Of course when I was a kid it was generally accepted that hurricanes couldn’t travel that far inland without breaking up. Then about twenty years ago they started being a lot stronger and the rules changed. I also distinctly remember growing up reading in a school textbook that hurricanes were only an east coast thing and not a west coast thing. So much for that. Climate change is real, kids. It’s not natural. And it’s no longer particularly subtle.

Anyway, these storms always end up being luck of the draw. If this storm had veered slightly to the left and made landfall in my city, it would have been a monster here. Instead, where I live, this particular storm will end up being a whole lot of nothing. And by “nothing” I don’t mean no impact. I mean that the main impact here will be that we all have to sit home and do nothing. It may only end up being a tropical storm by the time it gets here, and you can actually walk around in that without getting picked up by the wind. I know, because I’ve briefly and stupidly done it in my youth. But it’s not safe. At all. You can get caught in a flash flood, or impaled by flying debris. So you just stay home until it’s over.

And how big of a deal is that? A couple days? We stayed home for most of 2020, didn’t we? Yet the flash flood warning went out twenty minutes ago, and I already feel cooped up. It means I can’t go put to lunch today. Doesn’t matter that I was never planning to go out to lunch today anyway. I still feel indisposed. Human psychology is weird that way.

So here I am, compassionately hoping the people getting hit harder by this storm are okay, while selfishly being relieved it wasn’t me. Again, human psychology is weird.

We’ll see if the electricity goes out. It usually does at some point. Most people get their power back quickly. A few people have to wait forever. It’s yet another psychological test. “Sit home and be glad you have electricity to entertain you.” Then at some point it becomes “sit home in the dark with nothing to do and be glad your roof isn’t getting ripped off.” Few things feel as good as the power coming back on.

Dear Palmer Report readers, we all understand the difficult era we're heading into. Major media outlets are caving to Trump already. Even the internet itself and publishing platforms may be at risk. But Palmer Report is nonetheless going to lead the fight. We're funding our 2025 operating expenses now, so we can keep publishing no matter what happens. I'm asking you to contribute if you can, because the stakes are just so high. You can donate here.