Here comes the punchline

Last night I got to see Jeff Dunham perform at the AstroArena. (I don't feel like calling that old place by it's current corporate-sponsored moniker.) He's been doing the ventriloquism comedy for a long time, but he's got heightened recognition now thanks to the Achmed the Dead Terrorist routine that has become a popular view on YouTube.

The routines were a little rough, but that's not surprising since he's working over material that will eventually be part of an upcoming holiday special on Comedy Central. I guess it didn't help that I didn't feel really receptive to holiday-season bits on a warm Saturday night either. But the funniest part of the evening came at the end when Dunham brought out the Bubba J character. The routine was so well-worn and familiar that the audience was delivering the lines right along with the puppet. I've seen concert audiences belt out familiar hits with rock bands, but I had never seen a crowd of thousands do it with a comedian. It was weird and awesome at the same time.

Special kudos go to Dunham's charitable foundation for presenting donations to the Ronald McDonald House Houston and to the American Red Cross, as well as donating tickets to volunteer groups. The House had sustained damage from Hurricane Ike, and families are unable to occupy it until repairs are complete. I paid a visit there this past Thursday and it was odd to see absolutely no family activity going on.

Turning the subject to running: This morning's running endeavor was a joke. With yesterday's six miles, including the 5K race as a setup, this morning's punchline came in the form of "dead legs," which was not good considering that my original intention (laughable in hindsight) was to push the mileage into double-digits again. My legs felt whipped to the point where making it three miles was a struggle, so that's where I quit.

Executive decision: Tomorrow will be a rest day. Let's hope that helps.

In the wake of Ike, a refreshing visit to small-town Texas

"Want to take a roadie?" I was asked yesterday at work.

With those words, I got a chance to leave my cubicle and see yet a little more of what the hurricane left behind. After taking the keys to a company van loaded with bottled water and ice, I set out towards one of my employer's nursing homes out in the woods of east Texas.

While listening to radio talk show hosts bemoaning the Astros' stumble at the brink of catching the other playoff contenders, I surveyed more scenes of destruction and recovery. Ditches cradled overturned trailer homes. Convoys of power company trucks cruised to their next destination. A tree branch sprouted through the windshield of an otherwise sharp-looking Chevy 2500HD pickup truck. Billboards and road signs were ripped apart. In fact, I could swear that I didn't see a single speed limit sign standing on a certain eighty-mile stretch of interstate highway. Convenient, eh?

A bit more than two hours later, I rolled the van into the nursing home driveway. Last weekend, employees and patient family members alike had sheltered for the night on the building floor as Hurricane Ike sailed through town. The facility lost power in the early morning hours and only regained it a few days ago. I find it slightly ironic now that a van full of even more H-two-O would be welcome after a hurricane, but it was. Just as back in Houston, many of the employees here were still waiting for electric current to flow in their homes again.

After unloading the ice and water, I attended to the other task for which I was sent. I installed a router that would temporarily connect the facility to the Internet via the Verizon Wireless network until the local ISP gets the flow of bits and bytes going again. Then I turned for home.

As I was heading out of town, I was craving something to drink. (In hindsight, I should have kept one of the water bottles for myself!) I attempted to stop at the local McDonald's and Sonic Drive-In, but both were already closed for the evening, despite appearing to have power.

When fast-food restaurants on the "main drag" of a town aren't open for business at 6 p.m. on a Friday, I'd say things aren't quite back to normal.

That is a banana in my pocket, and I'm just glad to see it.

• I returned to the office for the first time since my "Ike-ation" began on Thursday afternoon. Yeah, there was quite a bit of catch-up work waiting. Commuting is going to be tricky with numerous traffic signals still down.
  
• Perishables have returned to the grocery store! Bananas, papayas, and a carton of soy milk are now in the kitchen. After meeting my fruit cravings with raisins and dried pineapple for the past several days, it's going to be so nice to bring back the fresh stuff. Loren Steffy of the Chronicle pays tribute to the grocers as "first responders" in this disaster. I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far, but they are certainly appreciated!
  
• For the first time since Friday, the local TV stations have returned to regular prime time programming. Now it's just a matter of time before topics of conversation gravitate back to economic worries, the presidential election, and how the Astros have stumbled since Hurricane Ike denied their home series with the Cubs.
  

Spinning up to a new normal

The following observations only apply to my immediate neighborhood here in Fort Bend County. Remember what I said in previous posts about being among the lucky. Much of the Houston area is still without power after suffering much more damage from Hurricane Ike, and other locations are certainly worthy of disaster relief assistance.

• A cool front has come through the area and the morning low was 71F. That ought to make things a little more bearable for those still without air-conditioning.
• My employer's building in Houston sustained roof damage, and so I'm home while it's being repaired. The data center remained intact, and I'm doing what I can through VPN.
  
• Grocery stores in the immediate area have re-opened their doors, but they're short on fresh meat and produce. The freezer cases are barren. Other items are being sold on a "quantities limited" basis.
• There are long lines at gas stations. I wouldn't be surprised if many of these customers are ones that have come out of the un-electrified areas in search of a working and stocked gas station.
  
• Traffic lights around the neighborhood are functioning again.
  
• Restaurants are re-opening. Yesterday we confirmed that the local Popeye's, Papa John's, and Vietnamese noodle house were back. Hooray!

I've gotten some comments about keeping my sense of humor during this experience. All I can say is that it's easy to remain buoyant when it's apparent that everyone you care about is accounted for and safe. All the damage around me has been inflicted on mere property. We can fix or replace all of it. The "tinkerer/builder" side of my personality even feels that we've been almost given a "clean slate" in some areas to make them better than before.

Living through these ordeals together reaffirms our strengths and bonds us together in ways that the carefree times cannot. May God grant me the chance to welcome the new normal as a stronger person, part of a stronger community.

Ike was a messy boy

At 6 a.m. thunderstorms rolled in and took down our electricity again. After what amounted to a day of "house arrest" I could feel the irritability rise within. So I worked it out the best way I knew how: I ran. When the rain subsided to a mere drizzle, I grabbed my Nikon Coolpix S550 and headed out the door to document what the hurricane left behind.

In about two-and-a-half hours, I had completed a 10-mile loop around home. People seemed to be in reasonably good spirits and I could hear the hard-working buzz of generators up and down the streets. When I returned, I was happy to see the power had returned, making it easy for me to share these pictures with you.

None of the surrounding traffic lights are working:


The field-goal kicker on the high school football team had a tendency to hook, anyway:


Numerous small trees and branches were snapped by the storm:


This might be a problem in the future. (Fortunately, I saw no cases of trees actually entering homes.):


Wrecked fences abound:


This storm sewer was clogged. Scratch and sniff your computer screen for the full effect.


Some two-story homes incurred roof damage:


Ike was originally from overseas, so I guess he couldn't read English:


This tree needs to be moved before vehicles can access the elementary school parking lot:


Parents will have less to worry about now when their kids climb this tree:


The nearest convenience store is still closed. I saw people inside the taqueria, but it's not open yet. The nearby grocery store is open, and sherriff's deputies are keeping order over the long lines of people waiting for basic necessities like bread and ice.

What a mess.

Ike Day: 6:15 p.m.

The curfew for Fort Bend County as a whole has been lifted, but the cities of Stafford and Sugar Land proper are still mostly without power and a dusk-to-dawn curfew will be in effect. We must be on a special part of the power grid because neighborhoods less than a mile away are still dark. The nearby shopping center (and its grocery store) is still closed and appears to be without power at this time. Slow Runner, my jar of Nutella is indeed empty. I'll be sure to pick up another when things get back to normal!

Only now that I'm catching up on the news, am I really seeing how the rest of the region fared.

This will be the last of the every-few-hours updates. With the "exciting" part of this story done, I think it will be safe to say to readers that things really will be OK. It's clear that my corner of the Houston region has fared much better than many, many others. Now we enter the much more "un-exciting" part -- cleaning up and putting things back together, including the routine of life.

Ike Day: 2:30 p.m.

I thought it might be funny to share this image of an error I was getting while using the VPN software on the office laptop. Fortunately, I got this problem to clear with a reboot.

Meanwhile, this feels like a great time to take a nap. The power seems to have stabilized here. The great news for those still without power -- and thus, no air-conditioning -- is that Monday's forecast calls for a cool front to come in.

When I get back up, I'll try to make a wider survey of the neighborhood. Outside the sky remains overcast, but the winds appear to have calmed, and only a light drizzle is falling.

Ike Day: 12:30 p.m.

WE HAVE POWER!

It's not totally stable, but it has been mostly on for the last 45 minutes. Based on the news reports we've been getting, we can consider ourselves fortunate.

We finally figured out that the voice channels on the wireless networks must be jammed (wonder why? haha), but we can still get text messages going. The Verizon Wireless aircard is also pulling a connection.

Ike Day: 11:30 a.m.

We ventured outside for the first time to let the dog take care of business and to check on the neighbors. Everyone we talked to seems to be OK. We have AT&T and T-Mobile cell phones that are unable to lock onto the network. In a moment, I'll turn on the office laptop and see if I can still connect using the Verizon Wireless aircard. (Unfortunately, the battery life on that ThinkPad isn't very good.) Landlines are still OK, so we can still make and receive calls through those numbers. DSL, of course, only works while I'm drawing juice from the backup battery. (Thank you APC!)

We still have water pressure and natural gas, so we can cook. Hurray!

The curfew in Fort Bend County has been extended to 2 p.m. I still see folks driving the streets. After 2:00 I might hop on my bike and do a more extended survey of the neighborhood. On this street, there are numerous small branches down and some wood fences blown down. The pavement is covered in "street salad." Rain is still falling. Gusts are strong enough to invert umbrellas.

Ike Day: 8:30 a.m.

The storm has definitely receded and the winds are now merely gusty. Now it's just like any heavy rainmaker. We thankfully have the benefit of daylight now, and I don't see any trees down. Lots of fruit, small branches, and green leaves are scattered everywhere, as if a messy mob was in a big hurry to mix up a summer salad.

There's no power still, of course. The DSL line is still active, but that's only good as long as the modem draws juice from the UPS, and there's a charge in the laptop batteries. We're getting phone calls from people checking on us. We're A-OK.

I shudder at what authorities might find when they go out and survey Bolivar Peninsula and Galveston Island this morning.

Ike Strikes: 5:15 a.m.

It's here. It's awesome. It's kind of scary.

The silhouettes of the treetops are as frenzied as fans at any playoff game you can imagine. Winds can be heard swirling from everywhere, massaging the walls. Everything and everyone inside is safe, though.

I am entering this via the Verizon Wireless network. Electricity was lost here around 11:00 PM as I was trying to get some sleep, and I could hear the rain start shortly thereafter as I drifted off. Landline still has dialtone. I'm going to try to tune into the radio to get some updates now.

Across the street, one light alone is lit, as if in defiance to the maelstrom. I guess the neighbors have the generator humming.

Ike Eve: 10:30 p.m.

I'm taking a break from blogging to get some sleep. There's not anything else I can really do if I stay up than worry. Let's hope that I'm still connected when I wake up. As of right now, there is still only wind gusts here and no rain yet. The nasty stuff is supposed to be rolling through between midnight and noon.

On another note, Jon Walk advises that the trails at Memorial Park are now closed. Well, there goes my plans for running during a hurricane!

To everyone following these posts, I appreciate your concern!

Ike Eve: 9:30 p.m.

Power and DSL are still on here and dinner was cooked normally. It seems like such a trivial thing for which to be thankful, but I am.

Ike Eve: 8 p.m.

• It's now dark and the curfew is in effect.
• Wind gusts remain the same.
• No rainfall seen yet.
• Heather Saucier is being interviewed on TV in her capacity as a spokesperson for Harris County Flood Control. It still feels weird to see people I went to school with in positions of important responsibility. I feel that says more about me than her, by the way.
• It just occurred to me that they're going to need a lot of volunteers to help in the aftermath of this storm.
  

Ike Eve: 7 p.m.

Curfew in effect for Fort Bend County from 8 p.m. to 10 a.m. I can deal with that.

Ike Eve: 6:45 p.m.

• We've just experienced our first momentary loss of power. I'm back online for now.
• Wind gusts are now in gale force territory here.
  

Ike Eve: 6 p.m.

• I might have been too hasty in praising the smoothness of the evacuation of low-lying areas. ABC13 passed along an estimate that says that 40% of Galveston residents are still on the island. That situation could get ugly.
• We're anticipating hurricane force winds here in Fort Bend County. I'm treating it as a tornado situation and will set up supplies in an interior bathroom just in case.
• My eating has been pretty good lately. The possible need to depend on non-perishible items has opened the door to junk foods I typically I don't indulge in.
  
• Wind gusts are picking up.
  

Ike Eve: 3 p.m.

• The television images of rising water topping the Galveston seawall -- which rises 15 feet above the (now submerged) beach -- are eye-opening.
• Here in Fort Bend County, it's still breezy and the sky is now completely overcast. A faint drizzle has started.

Ike Eve: noon

My run this morning featured a clear sky and a light breeze. Now there is a definite wind from the north and the sky is clouding over.

In hindsight, I think going through the hysteria during the near-miss by Hurricane Rita in 2005 was a blessing. We've got The Real Thing now and people are significantly more organized. Just about everyone in the threatened zones has been able to evacuate in an orderly fashion. Folks outside those areas will be calmly sheltering in place until it passes.

The projected landfall is still set for tonight at Galveston. While I was out running this morning, I remembered how this community rallied itself to recover after Tropical Storm Allison in 2001 and how it showed great heart in assisting those pummeled by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Well, after this storm comes through, I suppose we'll find out who will reach out to southeast Texas.

Ike Eve: 9 a.m.

During the course of this weekend, I'll try to keep blogging what I see here in Fort Bend County as long as I have a connection....

• I got a decent 7-mile run in this morning, plus completed Week 1 Day 1 of the Hundred Pushup Challenge as per the ongoing thread on the Runner's World forums.
• Those fake storm shutters that flank the sides of the windows of some custom homes in the area look really silly now.
• I feel very fortunate to have found a rare gas station that had fuel and short lines yesterday. The heart of the Energy Corridor was deserted by 6 p.m. It must be nice to work for the oil companies that will happily send you home at the drop of a hat.
• Not a drop of rain has fallen, but the roughening seas have already knocked away the popular fishing pier at Galveston's 61st Street.