‘Hurricane Parties’ Offer Camaraderie, Resources
When Hurricane Ike swept into Texas last weekend, Austin’s phone networks went down. The UT-Arkansas football game was postponed, and students’ relatives were worried. As winter brought some children snow days in the north, summer brought us southerners hurricane days. Only, hurricane days probably aren’t as fun: when the power is out in your house and the windows are boarded up, you can read by candlelight or stare vacantly. There are no sleds. This type of recreation, in my opinion, is what led to the ever-popular "hurricane party." The first hurricane party I witnessed occurred in the aftermath of the first hurricane of my college career: Katrina. Tulane students were bussed to UT and crammed into whatever space was left in our dorms. My dorm roommate and I lived next door to four evacuees, who were forced to stay at UT throughout the entire school year.
When Hurricane Rita threatened a somewhat similar effect on the Texas coast, someone, somewhere, realized that "Rita" resembled the last two syllables of the divine drink, the margarita. One thing led to another, and celebration ensued in honor of all things to be grateful for. During the day, we donated and coordinated relief efforts; at night, we were merry with our Tulane guests. Ike is no different. A Texas hurricane usually means lots and lots of family members filling up student housing facilities; it’s an excuse to come to Austin and for parents to see their college kiddoes. No one can resist the temptation to mix juices and rum together to make a "hurricane beverage" and converse about the safety of our families.
For example, I went to a hurricane party Saturday night in UT’s East Campus, thrown by some good friends from Houston. Mike and Ike candy filled a large bowl, and party cups labeled, "HURRICANE ______" were designed for people to fill in their name, or the name of their favorite hurricane, into the blank. The conversation among the 30 guests consisted of how family members were doing, who was without power, and which hardware stores still had generators leftover. It helped my roommate, who in turn, found a generator the next day.
So, host a hurricane party, and tell your guests to bring canned goods to donate (that includes beer). And be grateful. — Chelsey Delaney
Email
Pray Away the Gay?
Cover It Up 



RSS
Twitter
Facebook