24 October 2005

LiveBlogging Wilma

[7:34am, 180 mi. north of outer eyewall] Wake up. Pee. "Oh look, J., we still got power." (J. isn't moving from sleep; doesn't really care.) Outside, 40 mph winds, with gusts reaching 60+ mph.

[7:38am] "Hey Wilma, is this all you got?" Bored.

[7:47am] Turn on CNN. "There you go, that's what we're talkin' about." Is that ... Anderson ... straddling ... the eyewall of the hurricane?

[7:49am] Once again, the nation 'participates' in Anderson Cooper's oh so studly stunts. "The winds are really blowing a lot of sand ... on my ... face ... and we can't see ... the beach ... any longer."

[7:57am] Play Siegfried's Funeral March (Decca/Solti studio, 1965) full blast. Whisper: "Anderson Cooper is my Hurricane God."

[8:12am] Look for breakfast. (Hope Anderson's alright though.)