A Saturday Night Live skit once featured the guest who wouldn't leave. He stayed late. He ate the hosts' food. He made long-distance telephone calls.
The hosts finally ran screaming from the room.
John Belushi, meet Frances.
The hurricane-turned-tropical-storm is an annoyance that has left Florida fatigued. What should have been a Labor Day weekend at the beach or ball fields or backyard barbecue turned into a marathon of food prepared over a propane flame, no air conditioning, and cell phone calls from worried family members.
At least many of us were able to stay in our own homes. Refugees from Vero Beach hunkered down with us in Land O'Lakes. Two adults, two children and a 14-year-old dachshund shaking as much as the tree limbs outside arrived around 2:30 a.m. Friday.
The appropriate preparations had been made. Shut out of batteries during Charley, they became the first purchase early last week. Water, ice and canned food followed.
It's still a learning experience, however. For instance, it does little good to draw a tub full of water, as instructed, for future use if a 7-year-old boy decides to wash his feet in there. It might have been the first time he ever washed without being told to do so.
Lessons took hold elsewhere around Pasco County. Nearly twice as many residents fled to the public shelters during Frances than during Charley. Still far from capacity, at least the numbers are moving in the right direction.
The American Red Cross and public emergency managers were so prepared by Friday morning, Pine View Elementary School's marquee sign told passers-by the shelter would be open at noon.
Ooops.
Actually, it didn't open until 20 hours later. Officials worried a premature evacuation order, particularly on a bright sunny day like Friday, would be met with indifference.
There can be no overpreparation for the tedium that accompanied Frances. Waking to the continued high winds and rain Monday morning left everyone in a funk. The lack of power meant no brewed coffee for the adults. A Dunkin' Donut run was in order. By the looks of it, half of Land O'Lakes joined us there for caffeine.
As this is being written Monday afternoon, electricity has been out in some Pasco locations for more than 24 hours.
At our house, it meant four children, ages 5 to 11, learned to entertain themselves with no TV, DVD player or computer games. The nervous dog wanted no part of them. Uno became a favorite. So did the nonstop hide-and-seek game. Eating, too, became continuous. (Try maintaining a low-carb diet when you're wolfing down sundaes to keep four half-gallons of ice cream from melting into soup.)
While the kids snacked, the adults snarled. Relying exclusively on radio simulcasts of television news broadcasts tested the patience. Skip the happy talk, please. It doesn't translate well to radio. How about providing the time of day a little more frequently? It's a staple of radio information and certainly appreciated when power turns off nearly every clock in the house.
Incidentally, when did a tornado become tornadic activity?
In the news-you-can-use department, even Channel 8 co-workers are amazed by Bob Hite's stationary hair in tropical storm strength winds. We weren't kidding about the happy talk. And why would we care about the Channel 8 trash bin? A report on Sunday included a description of the parking garage and bin outside the studio. It must have made a lovely visual.
Click.
The better half figured it wasn't worth wasting the batteries.
Besides, there were other domestic worries. A palm branch dangled from the tree in the front yard. Yours truly was instructed to go outside and pull it to the ground. Over the course of the weekend, other instructions included a suggestion to check the height of the man-made canal at the rear of the property and a forecast that we might need a bucket brigade to remove water from the pool.
The other adults noticed the orders always required me to leave the house. They figured there was little concern about the head of the household staying dry.
Late Monday morning, the 7-year-old had enough and figured to make his own beach vacation. He took his skim board from the garage and attempted to ride the standing water in the front yard culvert. If there had been sandbags, he might have built his own beach.
