Dateline: Brooklyn, storm central. Down towards the canal, there are lots where big tourist buses park, and they made a conga line to higher ground at about 11 o'clock. It reminded me how Ray Nagy did not do the same during Hurricane Katrina, leaving NO's school buses to get flooded, then begged Greyhound to send buses to help evacuate, which it did. Skip a bit . . . and then he was reelected.

Anyway, chicken has been cooked, ham has been pulverized into salad, pudding has been made, hair and person have been washed, and dishes are being washed now. (Not 100% trusting of water/plumbing services tomorrow.) Mom called this morning to ask if I was evacuating. Knowing me, she then said, "Are you supposed to be evacuating?" I'll be fine as long as I have Jonathan Schwartz on the radio for company.

Everyone's comparing this to 9/11, but I'm reminded of Y2K. (Which ironically, Mister Cantor did not get worked up over, despite his motto, "Danger everywhere!". "It was too technical," he said.) I had 56 gallons of water stockpiled in my living room and a trunk full of firewood that was still there when I sold the car the next year. Aww, the car, where are you now, Mister Salty?