One Last “Hurricane Gustav” Observation…

3 Sep

As Hurricane Gustav rolled toward the Gulf Coast, I watched a characterization recently which I suspect was actually intended to allay the fears of the national (and even international) viewing audience about a very specific and often feared sub genus of American culture:

I speak of course, about “the poor, misunderstood Southern Redneck.”

Now, in spite of the weather, the rain, the wind, and even the cops, the broadcasts were extremely well done, and it was obvious to all that the news commentators truly cared for and even perhaps loved their charges. Hell, the press, bent on sensationalizing the impending disaster, treated them almost like real people.

And the staging was brilliant! It was almost like looking at a life-sized diorama. It was authentic down to the swaying masts in the harbor, the vibrato of the rigging as the winds ripped through it, and the large snarling dogs barking and growling in the background.

The commentator illustrated the steely nerves of the “future” victims, and painted “pictures of personal bravery” that would make mortal men weep. He talked about the exodus of mankind from the oil platforms perched precariously in the Gulf of Mexico.

And the “real kicker” for me was the revealing display of the lower back tattoos on the womenfolk depicted, almost as if an anthropological commentary on “tramp stamps” as “redneck art.”

You’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, aren’t you?

As Hurricane Gustav prepared to meet Louisiana, a weather guy from the Weather Channel set up shop in front of a harbor filled with shrimp trawlers and oil tenders. Now, this wasn’t just any old harbor, it was pretty much “ground zero” for the coming storm, and all eyes were cast to the heavens and to one sorry vessel, packed to the forward bilge pumps with people. In fact, the weather guy (whose voice was literally reeking of distress) related that 10 adults and 8 children were on board because the guy who owned the boat didn’t want to risk losing it in the storm, and he couldn’t afford to flee to a hotel room, anyway.

Let’s put this in perspective, okay folks? A Category 3 hurricane is headed for your harbor, and where do you drag your wife, kids, and in-laws? To the boat anchored there at ground zero, of course! Because all those “extra hands” can help bail water, right?

I only have one question. Where in the hell were the cops? Why didn’t they taze this idiot, drag his sorry ass off to “safety,” and insure that his brood was sheltered from the storm? Most jail cells are “hurricane resistant,” right? I’m sure they could have found space for him.

Okay, that’s three questions. So sue me…

Now, I’m gonna admit that as a soon as I saw that, I started praying like a horrified Hebrew in the Gaza… and I wasn’t praying for him, I was praying for his poor family. In Hebrew, with feeling… If I had any hair left, I’d have torn it out!

I’ve done some time on Shrimp Trawlers. Admittedly, it was long ago, and I was a better (fit) man, but I’m telling you now, the last place I wanna be in the middle of a hurricane, is on a shrimp boat. And there’s no way in hell my kids would be within miles, maybe even scores of miles.

Now that the carnage is over, and things are settling down, I hope some social worker somewhere in that moron’s parish is looking hard at that tape, trying to figure out a name, to put with that dumb-ass face. And then, he needs to be given the chance to explain himself, while somebody tears him a new one…

If I had my way, they’d find the sorry bastard, tranquilize him with a few teaspoons full of Robitussin, and then extract his teeth one by one with a ball peen hammer and some old rusty fishing pliers.

And if he passed out along the way, well… I’d just wave a cold Budweiser in front of his face long enough to stimulate his salivary glands, and then start over…

This moron gives legitimate “Sons of the South” a bad name. I mean, this guy has got to be somebody’s “idiot stepchild.” He’s probably even got a laminated Confederate Dollar Bill in his wallet.

Don’t get me wrong, my entire family is rooted in the South. And, I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again, but sure, our family tree grows straight up, without a single branch! However, it is planted in “Southern Soil,” baby!

But this guy just really pissed me off. My only wish is that he lived near enough to me, so that I could offer to teach him a lesson or two in “parenting…”

And this concludes “Ronin’s look at foul weather and high winds,” at least for now. The next hot air you read about, will in fact, be my own…

That is all…

Stay tuned…

2 Responses to “One Last “Hurricane Gustav” Observation…”

  1. Amy September 4, 2008 at 8:27 pm #

    I am SO interested in your progress. We live in Louisiana, and are currently paying 700$ a month to live in a rental trailer that is barely 1000 sqft…I can’t help but think we could do so much better by doing a house of our own…any ideas? any suggestions? I have been looking at the container idea for a long time, just don’t know where to start!

  2. renaissanceronin September 4, 2008 at 8:58 pm #

    Hi Amy,

    Start by reading everything you can! And not just here… (I wouldn’t wish that on anybody!)

    Then figure out how much space you need. Remember to allow for “future growth!”

    You’re literally surrounded by containers itching to be used as shelter! So, start stacking them up! LOL!

    (Like it’s really that easy…) LOL!

    Follow along, and I’ll show you what we do, as we do it. Then you’ll know what NOT to do!! LOL!

    Stay tuned…

    PS. We pay as much, for much less…

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