Hyped Gasps

Hurricane Irene, now downgraded to a “Tropical Storm,” has a plethora of reporters sloshing around in ankle deep waters in New York and New Jersey that they had to locate for the long shots so that everyone knows all of the press conferences NY Mayor Bloomberg and NJ Governor Chris Christie gave in advance were worth it.

It’s wise to prepare for the worst with any nature-made event, but the build-up to what could happen in the  Northeast superseded the real damage being done in North Carolina and Virginia. In watching the news, one would think the only area of true concern was in NYC, NJ and the Boston area. Forget Philadelphia, Maryland, Delaware.

Waters are rough in Maryland at the moment, and one person has died there, bringing the Hurricane Irene death total to 18 (as of this post time); the majority from fallen trees. But never mind, some water has risen and splashed over a bit of land in Manhattan’s Battery Park, so by all means send in another reporter to stand in high winds and trudge through a bit of water to justify the prep hysteria of the past two days. Even if the waters are relatively calm by the latest broadcast, the intrepid reporters still have to wear their rain soaked jackets and hats as a reminder to the viewers of what once was. Rain. Lots of it.

Also, let’s send NBC’s Al Roker out to a beach somewhere so we can watch his rain jacket whip around in what is left of the wind, and a slightly rough patch of waves moving around behind him. Let’s also make sure that while he and other on-the-scene reporters stand in rainless environments this morning warning people to remain inside, we see people walking in the background with their dogs, cameras, surfboards and no umbrellas.

Sure, trees have fallen. A few streets and boardwalks have been flooded. Power is out throughout most of the eastern seaboard. It is a strong storm. But it isn’t the massive wrath of God that had been hyped. And, to be fair, the many precautions by local and federal entities may have saved lives.

What I’m getting at is how hard the media is trying to prove that damage has been done in areas where the damage in minimal. Where are the news crews in the places where roof’s have blown off into space; where evacuations were, indeed, lifesavers. I really don’t care about a few feet of water in parking lots in Jersey, for example. What’s going to happen there? A child may try to go swimming?


After Katrina, of course cities and the federal government will err on the side of caution lest we see a repeat of desperate people waving for help from rooftops, tiny boats rescuing drowning animals and people, and, on the macabre side, visions of dead bodies floating through the river streets.

But again, I watch the coverage with a slightly amused view at the way in which the reporters, during interviews with any of the locals who dare to leave their abodes, have been trying to gain a dramatic response through leading questions such as “Were you frightened when the rain began?” “Compared to yesterday’s surf, how is it for you today when you go out to surf? Higher waves? Did you feel an undertow?” And then the interviewees struggle to find the “right” answer – which is supposed to be one of fear and foreboding, but instead, brings a smile and a shrug and a cheery “No real difference, really. It’s turning out to be a pretty day.”

Oh no, here we go again. At this moment we have yet another announcement/update from Governor Chris Christie’s umpteenth TV appearance in less than 24 hours. Okay. He’s warning of a few bridge closures, a few flooded areas to stay clear of and so on…along with a barrage of statistics on power outages and blah blah blah.

I have to take this hysteria with a mild grain of salt having lived in California for a very long time and finding myself in a flooded street during a non-hyped storm that was so dangerous helicopters could not fly in the wind and rain, and emergency vehicles couldn’t cross a choppy rushing flood of an intersection. After my dead car (water level reached above the steering wheel) was towed to a nearby resting place, I cajoled a hapless cab driver to drive me into the hills to go home as we wound our way through a massive war zone on Laurel Canyon that was filled with old couches that had been pushed out into the winding street by water from the side of the road, firewood logs, tree parts, misplaced cars, which required defensive driving to push on up the hills without anything crashing down upon us.

California is used to weather-related trauma. Two friends had to evacuate their on the beach cottages on Malibu Canyon Road during two separate storm events when ocean water began to engulf their homes. Both houses were completely lost in the splashing waves.

Where are the news crews when potted trees fall over on my balcony in the midst of one of our 60 mph wind gusts during storms? How about when one of the trees on this property nearly crashed through a large window in one of the rooms from wind? When the creek below our homes has swelled to severe land erosion levels? When sink holes have taken out a section of the road on which I live?

These are but my personal experiences and examples of what happens on a somewhat regular basis when California has one of the El Niño and La Niña storms. It gets much worse up and down the coast. And, of course, we have mudslides that can take out entire neighborhoods. Why don’t we get evacuation warnings more often? Perhaps because, unless severe, most of the citizens of the state are used to messes when it rains. Streets do flood. Businesses are ruined or temporarily out of biz until cleanup occurs.

And then everyone gets back to their version of normal until the next time.

Okay, once again I’ll give credit to preparedness and the extreme measures NY Mayor Bloomberg set in motion in case the meteorologists were correct on the possible major hit on the city, but, in true ambiguous fashion, I also find the breathless reporting too funny for words when the streets are merely shiny from basic rainfall.

Well, at least the East Coast now knows what it is like to be in the eye of a large storm and how to get out of the potential line of Hurricane ire. But in the Northeast, was it really any different than a heavy-duty Nor'easter? Yes, in a way. Irene was the size of a country when it began.

But I have to ask a question of those living in the Northeast. Why is a heavy rain storm such a point of hysteria? One year I was driving from Cape Cod into Boston. I left my hotel a day early because the incessant focus on the impending storm was so intense I visualized flooded freeways and possible stranding. How odd it was, then, to be in what I consider to be a regular rain event on the road. It was nothing special. Just rain and a tiny bit of wind. I’ve handled more danger just driving in the fog in my hometown way back when. No closed roads for that despite almost zero visibility.

I guess it’s all relative to the region.

Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy the breathless reports on the continuing move of the storm northward. I’m certain that if a tree falls in Rhode Island no one will be there to report on it until after the fact…just as the news continues to treat the true damage elsewhere as a side story.