From the Crow’s Nest
by CLINT YOUNTS
Now that hurricane season is officially over, I think it’s time to change the tradition of christening these nasty storms with ordinary names of boys and girls. If an entitled hurricane turns into a catastrophic storm, its name goes down in the annals of history as a horrible event, much like the Black Plague, the Titanic and the firing of Tom Landry. I always thought “Katrina” was a right pretty name until a hurricane pert-near destroyed the Louisiana coast. Now, that name will always be connected with the devastating storm. I wonder how many beautiful baby girls were named “Katrina” after 2005? How many Texas women do you know with the name “Camille”? Probably none if they were born in South Texas in the fall of 1969.
I don’t think there was ever a hurricane named “Clint.” If there was, I bet it was fairly harmless, blowing a lot of hot air and leaving empty longnecks in its path. I was a holy terror as a kid, or so say certain members of my immediate family and retired elementary teachers up in Lubbock. I wonder if I was called “Hurricane Clint” back then? Personally, I don’t recall being such a troublesome lad. How could such a devilish boy grow up to be an angelic adult such as myself?
Think of all the kids and young adults who have to live with the same name of a deadly hurricane. Nice names like “Andrew” and “Carla” are linked with storms of death and destruction. The name “Ike” still causes folks in Galveston to shudder, not to mention Tina Turner. I bet not many boys in South Carolina were named “Hugo” after that storm, but then, I doubt many were christened with that name prior to the storm either. Same goes for “Beulah,” not a real popular name to start with, although I think I had a great-aunt with that name. Guys, did any of you take a “Beulah” to your prom? Alright, let me rephrase that question: Did any of you non-Aggies take a human female named “Beulah” to your prom? I didn’t think so.
Now that I’ve tossed a rock into the beehive, creating a problem for the fellas at the National Hurricane Center in the Department of Nomenclature, perhaps it’s time to make some changes. Names for 2011 tropical storms have already been selected, and all are quite pretty, except maybe for “Gert” and “Ophelia.” The boys at the Hurricane Center also picked “Vince” for the name of a future hurricane. I wonder if they’re graduates of USC who still hold a grudge? How can we label storms without tainting names of decent folks of the past, present and future?
Have no fear, ye of little faith, I do have a solution. It’s quite simple, actually, but what would you expect coming from such a simple mind? Instead of labeling nasty storms of 2011 with nice names like Bret, Cindy, Irene and Maria, I suggest we name these hurricanes after evil villains, murderers and wicked women. Label storms with names of infamy, like “Hurricane Hitler” or “Tropical Storm Saddam.” Let’s call terrible tempests after Jeffrey Dahmer, Attila the Hun or Bob Stoops.
Don’t worry, ladies, I have some names of wicked women, too. Lizzie Borden, Typhoid Mary, Madalyn Murray O’Hare and Cruella Deville should be linked to hurricanes. The name of my 3rd-grade teacher would also be appropriate, especially if the storm has a lazy eye and carries a painful wooden paddle.
I am kind of surprised retailers and marketing firms haven’t come up with the idea of sponsoring hurricanes. By putting their product’s name on a tropical storm, much like they do on race cars and score boards, companies would receive free advertising during every weather report throughout hurricane season. Insurance companies could make good money sponsoring storms, encouraging folks to buy hurricane and flood insurance. Lowe’s and Home Depot sponsor NASCAR teams like Jimmie Johnson. Think of all the plywood they could sell if there was a hurricane carrying their name.
Let’s not forget our friendly pharmaceutical companies. If Pfizer can sponsor the Ford team in NASCAR, why not sponsor a tropical storm? If a hurricane pops up out in the Atlantic one night, lingers a couple of hours and then dies down, let’s name it “Hurricane Viagra.” If it lasts more than four hours, you should seek immediate help.
I hope this column makes its way to our friends at the National Hurricane Center in Florida before they come up with a new list for future hurricanes. I’d hate to have a nasty hurricane with the same name as one of my sweet daughters or my precious grandson. I doubt they’d ever name one “Hurricane Maw,” but if they do, look out! That will be one horrific storm, especially if you wander home from the bar after midnight, tracking mud throughout the house.
Clint Younts is a hurricane of rancher, especially when his bull calls out for more Viagra. In the meantime, he works at a veterinary clinic to make ends meet.
