All these emergency preparations are taking us by storm
by Beth Teitell

Tuesday, March 6, 2001

I was at home Sunday, pre-bracing for the storm - or was I bracing for the pre-storm? - when I realized that although I had a fully stocked refrigerator I should go to the grocery store and hoard.

I guess I should say here that one of my secret shames is that I'm never really sure what to buy for an emergency. A flattering jacket in case you have to stand outside your building with your neighbors while the fire department goes in? A flashlight? The new Vanity Fair?

I remembered from TV coverage of storms past that in times like these, people load up on staples. Bread, eggs, milk. I put those in my cart but I wasn't sure why. I haven't eaten an egg or a slice of bread at home in years.

But who knows? Maybe the storm me will be different.

I was in line with my three items when I realized I should probably buy a little more. Very bad weather was predicted. I might not be able to get back to the grocery store until tomorrow. I'd need enough food for a month, at least!

I looked around, but I got that old video store feeling. So many movies, but what to rent? The same inner demon that drives me to select films I've either already seen, or know I won't watch, forced me to buy the ingredients for a complicated vegetable stew recipe.

``That's practical,'' a friend said when I told her. ``You'll have no power, but you'll be cooking.''

She sounded kind of bitter, but I couldn't blame her. She'd been burned by the Y2K nonfiasco fiasco and now, like someone with a failed first marriage, has soured on the whole thing.

If she ran out of food, she said, she'd just break into her time capsule. ``The M & M's are probably still fresh,'' she said.

Or she'll send out for pizza. ``Domino's is like a movie theater, it has to stay open, right?'' she asked.

A Domino's employee in Boston told me his location planned to stay open through the storm. I'll tell you something, the pizza drivers and the movie corps - the popcorn makers, the ticket stub rippers, the scrape-the-gummy-bears-off-the-floorers - could teach the rest of us something about dedication to the cause.

``What counts as a staple?'' another friend asked when I brought up the subject. ``I should stock up on refried beans and Drakes Cakes. If I had enough of those I could be snowed in for three years and I wouldn't care. I'd get fat but what difference would it make? I'd never have to put on a bathing suit.''

Going to work yesterday, I heard Gov. Paul Cellucci had ordered all nonessential employees to stay home. ``Yes!'' I thought, turning around, until I realized that he meant state employees.

I also heard the governor considers public-safety workers essential, as well as some hospital and highway officials.

But what does he know? This is a man who wants to move to Canada. I say let those ``emergency'' workers stay home, and force the aerobics teachers and hair colorists to go to work. A state of emergency doesn't have to ruin the public's appearance, does it?

Meanwhile, the worst thing about the storm, worse than worrying that you'd lose power during ``The Sopranos'' season opener, worse than feeling guilty because your upstairs neighbor shoveled the front stoop when it was your turn, worse than having to make storm small talk - ``So, how was your trip in?'' - are the constant updates on television, the breaking news about the storm's march up the East Coast.

Just let me know when it gets here - so I can start eating my bread and eggs.