This is the 13th installment of Cajun Tomato’s NYC 100, a daily series chronicling my experiences and observations as a new New Yorker. I am using the term “daily” loosely, I admit.
The first time I saw the phrase “Frankenstorm” I thought the media was referring to former “Saturday Night Live” funnyman and current U.S. Sen. Al Franken. Like, Al Franken had whipped up a ruckus about someone or something. It seemed like a New York Post-style phrase. This is how my mind works. I was wrong of course.
When I learned “Frankenstorm” referred to the convergence of a hurricane with an arctic blast, and therefore was unrelated to the senator, I laughed. I might have yawned too. I’ll leave the freakout to New Yorkers.
As a south Louisiana native who has weathered more hurricanes than I can count, I find it hilarious how New Yorkers are bugging out about the so-called “Frankenstorm”. To them, it’s like the Zombie Apocalypse meets The Perfect Storm.
At some point over the next week, there will be a 70-foot-high wave that not only swallows George Clooney’s boat but also sends waves of the undead, who once were Titanic passengers, floating toward New York City. First, the water zombies will take control of the Statue of Liberty. Then Ground Zero. Before long, Wall Street will be swarming with these ghoulish bastards amid rain, snow, and the slushy stuff that comes from rain and snow mixing. Perhaps that last sentence describes each winter in New York City.
I won’t rely on Al Franken to save me from “Frankenstorm”. I will buy a flashlight, a few cans of tuna, and a box of Fruit Roll-ups. I will take lots of naps. I will go bowling.