THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, August 16, 1995 TAG: 9508160029
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: LAWRENCE MADDRY
LENGTH: Medium: 84 lines
WELL, HERE WE are into hurricane season, with the staff photographers heaving lawn chairs in the air and taking photos . . . just in case a dramatic wind shot of Hurricane Felix is needed for an early edition.
In the newsroom, weather reporter Steve Stone uses a plastic chart and a grease pencil to track the poorly named storm. He got so excited when they upgraded the hurricane watch to a warning that he sat down hurriedly in his chair, squashing the Big Mac he'd placed there earlier.
All of Hampton Roads is under a hurricane warning as this is written. I hope people pay attention and take precautions. A hurricane packs the fury of an atomic bomb.
But will folks feel threatened by something named Felix? Does that name suggest a concoction of shrieking wind and megations of rampaging water that is distilled damnation?.
I don't think so.
When parents choose poor names for their children, it is understandable. We can hardly fault a mother for naming her son Wilbert or Tinsley when she doesn't know that the child will, in time, become a muscular, quick-fisted fleet boxing champion.
But the international commission that names storms has no excuse. Hurricanes are perceived to be monsters with the potential for deadly behavior at the time they are named.
Those storm namers have been living with their heads in the clouds in more ways than one. They began by democratizing storms so that they bore both male and female names.
And now they have exhausted most of the names on their list and are scratching near the bottom of the barrel for new ones.
So we get Felix, and Flossie, and Gabrielle. I am sure there are some readers out there named Felix. And I have no intention of insulting them. Justice Felix Frankfurter was a jurist of penetrating intellect, to give Felixs - including the cat - all due credit. But the name suggests a waiter rather than a furious storm.
``Hi there, my name is Felix. I'll be your storm this evening. I can offer you minor flooding, flying shingles and downed power lines as appetizers. . . uprooted trees, flying cats and wind-raised boats overturned on a bed of trees.''
Get out of here! It doesn't work. Somebody runs into your house and shouts:
``I just heard it on TV. Felix is coming!'' Do you tape the windows? Fill the car with gas? Check the batteries in your flashlight?''
Nah. You're inclined to say: ``Oh, dear, really? I hope we have enough Perrier and brie.''
And Gabrielle? Gimme a break. Granted there is a hint of the hurricane- spawning Spanish Caribbean in the word. But there's no hint of treachery. Gabrielle is a Carioca dancer with flashing eyes, high heels, swirling skirt, dancing on a table with a rose in her teeth. In short, an interesting person you'd probably like to meet on some enchanted evening.
If someone busted into my place to announce that Gabrielle is coming, my reply would likely be: ``Great. Maybe I'd better shave, take a shower and put on a fresh shirt.''
The recent crop of hurricanes has had such lousy names (remember Flossie, the one that sounded like a dental assistant?), you wonder what's coming down the name pike next.
Millicent, Gidget, Hortense, Eustace, Elwood and Fred? Lord knows the storm namers should be able to find names more menacing. Names that strike fear and get people alarmed and ready. If for no other reason so descendants of poor devils who lose their lives battling a hurricane will know their ancestors were overmatched.
``Your great-grandfather died in 1997, my boy. He died at the hands of Matilda when she waltzed ashore.'' Now that just doesn't hack it.
Who said we can't name storms anything that is appropriate? That's the way it should be. The name should suggest ferocious wind. Or a windbag. How about HURRICANE LIMBAUGH? At the very least, the appellation should be associated with power. How about Hurricane Stallone? Or, better still, HURRICANE RAMBO.
Now, Rambo is about as fine a name as I can imagine for a hurricane. It's the kind of name that lights a fire under people, gets em moving, boarding up the windows, gathering up food cans and zooming toward the basement like bees to the hive.
Ram-bo. Sounds like the ominous thump of a distant war drum. You can't beat it. by CNB