In the late 1980s, we were stationed at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida. We experienced a few hurricanes and tropical storms, including one major one that damaged our house in Brandon, a suburb northeast of the city. It was our first experience with homeowners’ insurance, and it was a good one. I asked Donna last night if her memories agreed with mine, and she confirmed it … USAA came through quickly, inspecting the damage and covering repairs. I doubt we’d be able to get flood or natural disaster insurance on a house in south Florida today.
Actually, I’m surprised Tampa hasn’t sustained more damage over the years. Florida’s Gulf coast has survived thousands of hurricanes, and yet it’s covered in houses, developments, towns, and cities. And MacDill AFB, sitting at sea level, flat as a pancake on the southern tip of a peninsula jutting into Tampa Bay … how is it even still there, let alone home to two major military organizations, U.S. Central Command and U.S. Special Operations Command?
I’ve yet to finish my morning sweep of the news, but I’ll stick my neck out and say Tampa, Brandon, and MacDill AFB are still there and functioning in the wake of Hurricane Milton.
I ordered a watch for my birthday and it’s already here. We’re used to how quickly Amazon orders come, but this watch came all the way from China, and slow shipping is to be expected. In fact I’d counted on that, ordering 30 days before the big day and allowing plenty of time for it to come. But here it is, weeks ahead of my Halloween birthday. Do I unwrap it early to make sure it’s what I ordered, maybe wind it to see if it works?
Well, you know the answer to that. Of course I do (and did). Now the temptation is to start wearing it early, but I’ll do my best to leave it in its box until the 31st.
This one’s an old-school mechanical watch. No day or date, and it has to be wound. Every day. This is my fourth Chinese watch, so obviously I’ve come around to the notion of China as a watch-making nation. The Chinese watches I’ve added to my collection are well-made and nice to look at, and this one, from what I’ve seen of it so far, is equal to any of my Japanese Seikos.
Well, if I’ve got to wait to wear it, you get to wait to see it. At the rate days are flying by, thanks to it being election season, Halloween’ll be here before we know it.
Trump’s true legacy: I can never see a storm track diagram without mentally adding a crudely-drawn micro-penis penetrating Alabama. Thanks, Donald.
Maybe he’ll die. Just drop over dead. He will, some day. Why not now, rather than later? Of course if he does croak before the election, J.D. Vance will move to the top of the Republican ticket, but I’m not gonna sweat that. Vance could name Florida Governor Ron deSantis as his running mate and lose even more badly.
A retired couple at the other end of our housing development put their Trump sign out, supported by two vertical pieces of rebar welded to a two-foot length of railroad track. That fucker wasn’t going anywhere … and yet it did, and has been MIA the past two weeks. I had nothing to do with that. I’m happy to note, though, that another neighbor’s Harris/Walz yard sign, supported the normal way by two slim metal rods hammered into the dirt, remains unmolested, as does my Harris/Walz bumper sticker.
I’ll just note here that from November 2016 to the present day I have never, neither in print nor in speech, put the words “president” and “Trump” together. Or even in close proximity (oops, might have just violated my own rule). And I never will. I’m a Gold Star Trump denialist and proud of it.