Storms of Epic Proportions

My beloved and I have been avidly following the coverage of Hurricane Katrina.  Like the rest of humanity, we're fascinated any time a storm gets biblical.  "What would we do?  Where would we go?  What are those poor people thinking?" we say.  That's one side of the story.  The other side is: "How bad can it get? Why did they go inside a football stadium? Will steel really bend in wind?"

I think the most fascinating part is the roof ripping off the top of the stadium.  First, I'm not really sure why the city fathers thought it would be strong enough to withstand a Level Five (or whatever lingo they use) hurricane.  I think they might've chosen it just because it was BIG.  However, I have to say I love the good old United States for at least designating an area for the urban poor to go and hurrying them inside it like so many Mother Hens, even if it was maybe not the best place to go.   I willingly pay taxes because services like that are what separates us from the Third World.  We have money to herd people into stadiums because we all paid our taxes.  Good for us.

Now, I'm just going to sit here and try to get to work and not think about the hole in the roof of the Superdome.  Maybe I'll say a little prayer for all those people.  These big storms are starting to come a bit more frequently, it seems.