We’ve had a tough few weeks. For Labor Day weekend, I was in Nashville, celebrating an associate’s bachelor party.
The group was gathered at an establishment frequented by gentlemen at bachelor parties. I was sitting with a young lady, discussing our common interests, while an associate within earshot was flipping through his phone.
“It just happened again. This time in Odessa,” my associate, Downer McDownerson, said, shaking his head.
Almost immediately, the social media feeds of everyone in the United States [myself, Downer McDownerson and the young lady who worked at the establishment included. True story: She explained that she’s not actually an employee of the establishment. She’s technically an independent contractor who just happens to work there. You might think it’s weird that came up. You might be a fool.] filled with people praying, other people chiding the prayers and saying we need action, and people opposing whatever action was preferred by the other people calling for action.
Then last night, a gentleman in Houston became so enraged when he learned Popeyes had run out of chicken sandwiches, he came back with a gun to demand satisfaction.
We need a collective pick-me-up. A hurricane barreling toward the East Coast may not sound like a pick-me-up, but… actually, that isn’t a pick-me-up. Hang on.
A few dozen people were packing up in Dallas this morning, getting ready to drive to Mississippi and get ready for orders on where to go on the East Coast in preparation for Hurricane Dorian.
Texas Baptist Men were sending 45 volunteers, trucks with mobile showers and washing machines. The volunteers don’t know how long they’ll stay. They don’t know anyone on the East Coast. They’re just going to help their fellow man. We’ve been through this, too, and they’re planning on this being their biggest project since Hurricane Harvey.
They’re also sending two mobile kitchens back east: one to Florida, the other is headed toward North Carolina to wait for orders as Dorian heads up the coast.
Loyal Scaiaholics will recall my last encounter with a hurricane was Hurricane Irma in 2017. I recommended Texas Baptist Men bring the same rations served by the hotel in Tampa that stayed open for reporters and first responders.
Those rations included filet mignon and lobster mac and cheese because the chef didn’t want all the food in the refrigerator to go to waste.
Texas is known for its fine barbecue and steak, after all. I explained to the folks at Texas Baptist Men maybe they should stock up on steak before they leave.
Those mobile kitchens, you see, are built to serve 15,000 meals a day. Even if they’re worried about the steak making the trip, perhaps they could consider chicken frying that steak to preserve the goodness. They’d just need some cream gravy, which, one could only assume, would be transported by tanker truck with a police escort to get to the shelters in a timely fashion.
An associate’s family owns a meat market in Fort Worth. I should check with her about how to best dry-age a steak to be used as a hurricane ration.
