The thrill – and challenges – of stormy times

Those of you who know me will chuckle over this article. Those of you who don’t will either see yourself in these words or be reminded of someone you know.

Like my mother, I am a weather geek. If a forecast hints at a storm brewing, I get an adrenaline surge. Immediately, I start with the rituals of culling information from multiple websites and following the U.S. and European models. And – though I am still unsure of their differentiation – I get excited when the isobars resemble each other. 

I take inventory at home:  water, batteries and Sternos, just in case.  I make mental notes:  do the laundry and run the dishwasher before we lose power.

From the recesses of my basement, I retrieve an inherited Army-green battery-operated lantern that can illuminate a sizable campsite (although this is questionable since I have never actually gone camping).

Then, 48 hours before the storm is due, I watch and listen ad nauseam to multiple TV channels, websites, apps and tweets. I confess that I get super jazzed when a storm alert hits my phone. 

Twenty-four hours before the actual “weather event,” I kick it up a notch and text my immediate and extended family messages like “8 to 12,” “gale force winds,” “shelter in place”… well, you get it. 

Next stop, the market. It’s a sign of age I’m sure, but instead of getting upset about long lines, I revel in them.  I delight in the frenzy, and take inventory of the number of carts around me – but only after making sure I’ve loaded up on my healthy storm-day treats, both sweet and savory.

When it is my turn, I remind myself to ask the cashier how he or she is holding up. I so appreciate a friendly, composed, competent cashier who puts fruits and produce in one bag, and frozen items in another, and doesn’t drop my People magazine in with leaky perishables. 

And, surely, I am not the only one doing all this.

 During each storm frenzy, I am reminded of the appeal of independent and assisted-living residences. I think about how liberating it must be not to worry about shoveling the walk and driveway. I think of how great it must be to not need to be preoccupied with clearing the car before I start my day.

As I refresh the batteries in flashlights and an old transistor radio, I wonder what it would be like not to worry about power outages.

At times like these, I particularly value the notion of eating communally while nurturing friendships: Fireplace chats, sharing storm tales and marveling at the elements from afar with fellow residents is comforting, of that I am certain.

Until the end of time, I will always be addicted to weather forecasts. Like my mother before me, I will continue to be a meteorologist wannabe. I will continue to be disappointed when would-be storms miss and go out to sea. I will continue to revel in the elements and wait with great anticipation for storms of historic significance. 

Rest assured, with the green lantern by my side, I will be ready to utter the famous call to action for the weather-wary: “Charge your phone!”

SUSAN BAZAR (sbazar@jsari.org) is executive director of the Jewish Seniors Agency of R.I.