Joke called me up tonight to give me the update, and since I'm such a generous and thoughtful person, I thought I'd share. Because good lord, ladies, I can hear the keening and the wailing and the worriting all the way from Chicago. (Or is that me keening? Sometimes I get confused.)
So anyway, Joke and the rest of the Joke clan are doing fine. Like much of the rest of Florida (3.2 million households and counting) they are without their usual source of electricity. However, Joke very wisely bought a generator one or two hurricanes ago--i.e., two weeks ago, not that I'm knocking Florida or anything--so as long as he has gas, they have juice.
Of course, there is the little problem of what to do when they run out of gas, as what are the chances that the gas stations have electricity when no one else does?
Still, they're fine and in good spirits. However, there is no cell phone service, no DSL, and limited land line use. So we are going to have to endure an awkward silence of indefinite length emanating from points south. Unless you live in Key West, in which case you're too busy bailing to care.
Not to mention--and I'm not whining, really--but Joke and Mrs. Joke were supposed to be flying to Chicago to hang out with the Poppies and gad about, eat, drink (too much) and talk (even more than that.) But the Miami-Dade airport is closed, man, because of blown down palm trees and wreckage and such-like. So they might not come.
Which sucks more than a hopped-up Hoover.
But--and I'll say this for one last time--they're really fine.