So Ian has left the state and is a Cat 1 headed for South Carolina. Poor bastards in SW Florida got slammed -- the pix of Ft. Myers and Sannibel reminded me of the aftermath of Andrew. Worse -- due to our clownish state government, property insurance is in a shambles, and I know many will go uncompensated or meagerly compensated. This is in contrast to those of us with great coverage 30 years ago -- we jokingly called our storm "St. Andrew" for the financial windfall many of us received.
Ian locally blew harder than I realized. When I went outside Wednesday afternoon, there were quite a lot of large tree branches and limbs on the ground. Our lawn guy was here yesteday, and he brought a bigger crew for the cleanup, which lasted all day. He charged us, fairly, an extra $500 for the work, and now you can't even tell we had anything at all, save for the debris pile out front, which the county will pickup next Friday. So $500 in damages for a Cat 4 that passed us? Pretty, pretty, pretty acceptable.
And this am we realized the consolation prize for passing storms, especially those later in the season: gorgeous weather in the wake. The storms suck in all the nasty weather, and heat, and humidity. This am it was 67 and low humidity in the 305.
When I walked, at 9, it was still delightful -- 72 and lovely. I passed the huge house in the NE corner of our 'hood, which has been under construction for years. The owners spray painted on the wall the names of their kids along with "Trump in '24." I already advised my family that we have a new special place to let the dogs poop during our walks.
But speaking about passing storms -- today reminded me of Hurricane Wilma in 2005. It hit us in late October, and did a bit of roof damage and tree damage. Interestingly, the roof tiles were not broken, but were loosened by the winds -- eventually a company charged me $4k to re-fasten them down. I always remember the sole little guy who did it -- completed the whole house by himself in a single day!
We were without power for a solid 10 days. I sent Wifey and the Ds to Atlanta, and my friend and then across the street neighbor sent his wife Susan and their kids to Orlando.
The weather was so gorgeous, Pat and I stayed in our houses and lived like cavemen -- cooking on a hibachi, and drinking Middleton each evening to the music of an old school transistor radio.
One evening, he invited me to his country club, Riviera, and I met his old school, mostly WASP friends. We ate and drank there, and they liked me -- told Pat they thought I ought to join. No thanks -- I'm not a golfer, I told Pat, and I wasn't going to spend 6 figures just for a place to swim and eat.
But the club is in the Gables, which had a curfew, and at 10 we had to leave. I told Pat we would stop in MY country club -- Foxe's lounge. We had a nightcap, and I shared with him my memories of my first ever martini there -- courtesy of my mentor Ed.
Fox's closed years later, but just reopened a few months past. Wifey and I plan to get there one of these Thursdays for their famous prime rib night.
Anyway, I plan to walk more today to enjoy the weather. Canes are blissfully not playing tomorrow -- they need a serious re-group after their embarrassing loss to Middle Tennessee -- among the worst losses since I became a fan -- in 1979.
But the weather today shows, in nicely cliche form, what we know about life -- often the light follows the darkness. And today I will enjoy that cooler, dryer, light.
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