"1 Rita on the Rocks To Go!"

Einstein said "God does not play dice with the universe," but as it turns out, humans are ripe and ready to play dice with the planet. We rolled the dice, we got it. Welcome to the hurricane-happy happy hour of us cooking the planet.

Twenty years ago, climatologists began predicting that the Big GW (that would be Global Warming) would stir up hurricanes like a gallon of rot gut rum in a half naked virgin at Mardi Gras.

Yes, folks, welcome to what will almost certainly be the most "active" hurricane season since at least 1850. They're running out of names for these storms. Literally. I don't see how you could run out of names, and truly you can't, but leave it to stick-in-the-mud bureaucrats to say that when the 21 official names for this year are used up, we start over with... the Greek alphabet?

Huh? What's with that?

Give those storm naming guys over in Geneva (of all places) a hurricane (the kind that comes in a glass) before they make dumb decisions like that again. And why not use those other letters for names now and then, when in a pinch such as we are in now? In a tight spot, what's wrong with scraping together a few names that begin with Q, U, X, Y and Z. After Rita, there are just four more names to go: Stan, Tammy, Vince and... Wilma.


So after Wilma, we're going to... Alpha? as in Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta? Sounds like the sorority take over of tropical action to me, like Daytona Beach during Spring Break. That's the best we can do?

Maybe the nerdy sky guys who came up with this system are a little too sober. And they've slighted ever Q, U, X, Y and Z name in the book. Wilma? Alpha? We need some Q and U names quick, and what's wrong with Y and Z? Yori and Zebulon work for me.

Yukon and Zanzibar seem more creative and, shall we say, distinctive. Alpha? Beta? Gamma? Those might as well be storms from outer space.

Anyway, meanwhile, down in the Keys over the weekend, one bar owner was boarding things up to run from our "R" named storm and took just enough time to spray paint one last drink order for th hurricane to read and serve up (with a swirl) as it came by:

"Hey bartender, 1 Rita on the rocks to go."

You see those maniacally laid back nihilists down in the keys know how to do things right - sort of like their compatriots over in that other haven of debauchery, N'awlins. Seems people who live in the paths of hurricanes have, throughout much of history (at least since 1850, when modern hurricane history began), been quite the drinkers. Seems with good reason.

Nature rules.

I'd like my 'Rita frozen with salt, por favor. Too bad ice is going to be so scarce down in those parts. Things are definitely heating up. Even on TV, some mayors along the gulf are starting to break a sweat.

Yes indeed, Nature Rules.