Dear Hurricane/Nor’easter Sandy,
So … word on the street is that you’re a pretty powerful storm. Energy and pressure that’s comparable to a Category 3 hurricane. Sustained winds of 60-75 mph and gusts up 90 mph. 5-10 inches of rain. Waves of 15-20 feet. A storm surge which could inundate coastal communities. Flooding which will wash its way inland. A diameter which exceeds a thousand miles.
I have always been fascinated by the weather – even considered going to school for meteorology before I went the journalism route – but I’m not gonna lie, you’re starting to freak me out. When the forecasters start using phrases like “once-in-a-lifetime-storm” and “worst case scenario” … well, that doesn’t exactly inspire a sense of security. So I’ll make you a deal: take a miraculous spin back out to sea, or dramatically weaken, or hey, even choose to evaporate into thin air if you want. Anything but slamming into the East Coast like a whirling, swirling paragon of strength. In return, nobody will complain about the weather for the foreseeable future – not the frigid digits, not the snow, not the wind chill, not the heat, not the humidity. Nothing. Nada. Zip, zilch, zero.
And if you can’t do any of those things, at least take it easy on us, okay? Flooding, downed trees and wires, coastal erosion … none of those would be fun. We have our candles and flashlights ready, but if you could avoid causing a days-long power outage, that’d be awesome, too. After all, I can’t edit if my computer won’t turn on. Above all else, though, please keep everyone safe. I know you have your eye set on this area, but we wouldn’t mind if you wanted to switch perspectives. It’s worth repeating: the middle of the ocean is really nice this time of year.
Anyone in Sandy’s frenzied, frenetic path, please be careful. Here’s hoping the waves of this storm won’t crest too high.