Part-time mall rat
Here we go. It's that time of year again. This weekend, the dreaded Little Martin Hurricane Fair will be held at the Treasure Coast Mall. Let me be the first to say that the next two days will be a living hell.
The Little Martin Chapter of the American Red Cross (ARC) kicks off the festivities today with an appearance by Director Max Mayfield, National Hurricane Center, at the Little Martin High School auditorium. Mad Max will do his best to scare the living bejesus out of attending residents, forecast doom, gloom, death, and destruction, then blow smoke up the audience's collective nether region with nebulous answers to unanswerable questions.
The fair, once an ARC hallmark program, has turned into nothing more than a fund-raising exercise designed to fatten coffers. If a business or agency wants to participate, they must donate some serious coin or not participate. So much for public service.
The next bout of fun begins at 2100 hours tonight when my agency sets up our Little Martin emergency management display at the designated mall location. I don't know what possessed us to do it, but I and two other work mates volunteered to set up our booth, two truckloads worth of books, booklets, posters, pamphlets, maps, and a whole bunch of other stuff - stuff where importance was based on gross weight rather than content.
Barring pulled muscles or shattered limbs, we will man the booth at 0900 hours Saturday, paint smiles on our faces, then blow smoke up the mall walkers' collective nether region with nebulous answers to unanswerable questions. Examples (These are actual questions from previous fairs):
QUESTION: "Will we be hit with a hurricane this year?"
ANSWER: "Will you be run down by a bus this year?"
QUESTION: "What's the best evacuation route to Georgia?"
ANSWER: "North."
QUESTION: "Are mobile homes safe?"
ANSWER: "Do alligators make safe pets?"
OK, so I didn't answer the questions like that (except for the evacuation question).
One of my programs, special needs, is specific to residents of Little Martin only and requires registration to seek haven at our medical shelter. The Treasure Coast Mall, of course, is situated right at the border between Little Martin and the heavily-populated St. Lucie County to the north. Experience tells me that I will receive eight billion registration applications from St. Lucie County residents, even after we tell all who pick up a form that it is for Little Martin only.
If I could simply throw them away as they came in, this would be no problem. I can't. I must contact each and every one of the eight billion, blow smoke up their collective nether region with nebulous answers to unanswerable questions, then direct them to register with their own county's emergency management agency. I will do this during my "free time." Thank you, unfunded mandates.
On and on the meeting, greeting, smiling, and blowing of smoke will go, ad nauseum, until the merciful arrival of 1800 hours on Sunday. Since the TC Mall is the only one of significance in Little Martin, you can be sure that this mall rat will be very busy indeed. But I really, really hope that all of you have a nice weekend -- sitting contentedly on your collective nether region.