By Rob Holbert Managing Editor

Making bad weather pay

My good friend William Hinge Van Anterse III – Trey to his friends – seemed especially animated when I walked into the watering hole the other night. He was motioning to the bartender and barking orders.

“Come on man, turn it over to the Weather Channel for just a few minutes! I gotta see what’s going on with Hurricane Ike,” Trey said. “Nothing’s going to happen in this football game that you can’t see on ‘Sports Center’ later. I just need to see where Jim Cantore’s broadcasting from.”

The barkeep finally acquiesced and flipped it over to the Weather Channel, and Trey settled back to his Crown and Coke.

“Why you so freaked out about Hurricane Ike? It’s still days away. You worried it’s going to mess up your Tina Turner record collection?” I asked.

“Man, if I hear one more stupid Ike and Tina joke about this hurricane, I’m going to commit my own act of domestic violence. Those idiots at the Hurricane Center should have known better when they came up with the list of names for this season,” Trey said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. The Ike jokes are pretty lame. And I don’t understand why they choose names that sound like badasses. Why Gustav? Sounds like a Russian general. Ike? Of course it reminds everyone of someone who smacks women around and otherwise causes trouble. They should have gone with Irving for the ‘I’ hurricane this year,” I said. “But back to my original question, why are you freaking out about Ike already. Besides it looks like it’s going to Louisiana?”

“I’m not ‘freaking out,’” Trey said, making little air quotes, which was tough to do with a cigarette in one hand and a highball glass in the other. “I’m waiting to see if I’m going to have to pay for my vacation.”

“What? How is the weather going to determine if you have to pay for your vacation or not?” I asked.

Trey smiled and leaned in, almost whispering like he was giving me a stock tip, “Man, if Ike comes close to here, the government will pay for us to evacuate. It’s awesome. I can just head a few hundred miles up the coast into Florida and get a free hotel room.”

“Oh OK, now I see what you’re getting at. I read about that where the Homeland Security guy Michael Chertoff said the Feds would pay for evacuation expenses, including hotel rooms. But I’ve got some bad news for you, Trey. They came back the other day to clarify and said it would only be for people who have to stay out of their houses because they don’t have power or are damaged in some way. I don’t think it’s a bit naïve to think they’re just going to write you a check for leaving town when a storm comes in,” I said.

“Oh who’s being naïve here? You really think the Feds are going to come around and check to see if I’ve got power or not? Man, I promise you they’ll be shelling out free money to anyone with a good story,” Trey said.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked.

“Experience. The government manages its money like a drunken sailor on shore leave. Remember after Katrina when they were buying everyone generators and just handing cash to people? Hell, maybe you haven’t seen the local news, but over at Channel 15 they’ve done stories on people who are still living in a motel on the beach in Mississippi, with the Feds paying for their rooms and three squares a day!” Trey said.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that one. It kills me when the woman says she hasn’t moved out because she lost all her ‘pep’ after the storm. That’s good stuff. Still, even though you’re not the peppiest person I’ve ever met, you’ve got plenty of money. Why should the taxpayers pay for your hotel room, even if a hurricane does come here?” I asked.

“Man, why not? I’m paying enough in taxes that they ought to put me up in a hotel once a month just on principal. As far as I’m concerned I’m just getting back what’s rightfully mine,” Trey said rattling the ice in his glass to get the bartender to bring him another.

“That’s a horrible attitude, Trey,” I said. “While I totally agree with you that the government takes too much of our money, I don’t know how we’ve gotten to the point where people think the Feds should pay us when the power goes out. After all, we choose to live in an area prone to hurricanes. Doesn’t the occasional storm just come with the territory?”

“Let’s hope so. I need a vacation,” Trey said laughing.

“After Hurricane Frederic, people all over this area were without power for weeks. I don’t remember us having the federal government write checks for a stay in some Motel 6. People just made do. It sucked, but that was just how you dealt with hurricanes. I was without power for several days after Katrina, but I didn’t get any checks,” I said.

“You missed out. Should have gone and gotten a room somewhere and lived it up. Uncle Sam damn sure would have scratched you out a check,” Trey said.

“I wouldn’t even have thought to ask,” I said incredulously. “I understand the government helping folks who are destitute, but paying for hotels for the rest of us just because our houses are hot is beyond charity. It seems rather socialist, at the least.”

“Man, I don’t care if it’s communist. If I’ve been displaced by the storm, I deserve to have someone pay for it. That’s just the way it is. If the government didn’t spend it on my hotel room, they’d probably just piss it away on something stupid like a ‘Bridge to Nowhere’ or a $500 hammer. Better my tax dollars go to paying for something worthwhile – like me going on a vacation,” Trey said.

“Well, when you put it that way, it does kind of make sense,” I said. “It is awfully hot when the power goes out and the windows in my house are all painted shut. Besides, it’s been ages since I took the wife and kids on a vacation. I guess it would be nice if Ike came close enough to knock out the power for a day or two.”

“Now you’re talking. Let that hurricane blow,” Trey said.

Rob Holbert is Lagniappe managing editor. Contact him at rholbert@lagniappemobile.com.

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