Stormy memories

I moved to New Orleans in the summer of 1965. I was 20 years old. A couple of months later, in September, I had an experience of a lifetime when Hurricane Betsy hit us head-on. Betsy was a Category 4 when it reached Louisiana, and it was a religious experience of a sort.

I was living with my parents on the top floor of a duplex in Uptown New Orleans. None of us had experienced a full-blown hurricane before. My father left his Nash Rambler parked in the driveway. Later, we found what looked like bullet holes in the car body.

Stones had blown through.

Betsy passed overhead in the dead of night. She did sound like a freight train. Trees were bent over. Electricity danced up and down along power lines. At times I crawled to a window to look outside. I could hardly believe what I saw.

In the years that have since passed, I’ve seen videos of hurricanes, but none ever came close to what blew over our house that night. They would show some flapping street signs, etc., at most.

I always supposed that the lack of accurate videos of hurricanes at their worst was due to the fact that only a lunatic would go out to film it, or even approach a window during the height of it. Well, that has changed. There are cell phones, and there are lunatics.

When a hurricane approaches, there are always people you see on the news who say, “Oh, we’ve been through hurricanes before. We’ll be staying at home, like always.” These people have experienced glancing hurricanes at best.

Just four years after Betsy, Hurricane Camille arrived a bit farther to the east, which was good for New Orleans. The west side of a hurricane is the safer side. Camille was worse than Betsy. Yet again, there were people on the news declaring their intentions to ride it out.

Camille wiped entire homes off their foundations on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. People simply vanished forever. Plenty of them. The video below provides a good idea of what these things can do, especially at the 0:08 point.

You do not want to stay home.

Speaking of lunatics, here’s another video of what appears to be one of those wacky groups who drive toward tornados. Looks like they also drive into hurricanes. I hope they have life insurance.

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(Aftermath: The day after Betsy landed, I was able to drive north to Baton Rouge where I moved into a LSU dorm room. Damage in Baton Rouge was far less. Like right now, power was mostly off in New Orleans, and my parents lived with that, in the dark, for more than a week.)

Buttcrack baby

(Viewer discretion advised. Video includes appalling moments.)


As has been mentioned here previously, my child bride has turned to other activities over the past year due to the Kung Flu hysteria, temporarily halting her sidewalk pastry sales. She has turned to crochet.

Up to now, she has created elephants, Rotweillers, unicorns, lions, camels and so on, but now she’s tackled the human form. Some of you might want to avert your eyes from the video. You’ve been warned.

The dress is separate and removable as are the sandals and panties.

The child in question is named Matilda. She is a white girl, which means she was born with privilege, giving her a pass through an easy, blessed life. Next on the crochet list, however, will be a chocolate child who will, of course, be oppressed.

I am not making this up. Stay tuned.

Americans down under

No, not that Down Under, but down under the Rio Bravo.

This is an interesting video if one is interested in this sort of thing, and I am. It shows where Americans have emigrated over the decades. In 1978, it was Canada by a mile, but around 1993 Mexico took the lead, and it’s maintained that position ever since.

What I find most noticeable is the number of emigrants to Mexico. Since I moved south 21 years ago, I’ve often read that a million or more Gringos live down here. I never believed that fat figure for a moment. In 2000, according to the video, and I have no idea where its information comes from, but it sounds right to me, about 350,000 Gringos were here with me, certainly not a million.

No one keeps count of how many Americans live in Mexico except the Mexican government. Any other number source is purely imaginary. It’s common to cite U.S. figures, but the United States does not pay attention to who emigrates to Mexico or anywhere else. When I left with my two suitcases in 2000, I did not clock out at the Atlanta airport.

I read about five years ago that Mexican government statistics put the number at around 750,000, and the video supports that. The video ends at 2020 with just a hair under 800,000 of us down here.

Back in the 1970s, it was Canada. Why on earth would Americans move to Canada?

Hippie heating in Texas

Fifteen years ago there were virtually no wind turbines dotting the Texas landscape, but now a quarter of the state’s electricity is generated by those big fans … which have frozen solid in the current cold snap.

What were they thinking?

Texas is chockablock with energy sources from oil to natural gas. As some wag wrote this week, going without energy in Texas is akin to starving to death in a grocery store. You can only do it on purpose.

I heard from my second ex-wife yesterday. She lives in Houston, and there is no power in her house. She is hunkering down with a ski parka and cap. She put the contents of her fridge in her sun room, which is essentially putting it outdoors but where the possums and squirrels cannot get to it.

Meanwhile, Sleepy Joe has canceled the Keystone Pipeline.

What is the moral of all this? Stick to what works and avoid fads.

Copter running on fossil fuel tries to get the hippie fan to function.