| Editorial October 2004
Disaster-Proof Home Theater
As I write this, on September 1, hurricane Frances is at
latitude 21.4 N and longitude 69.1 W, moving toward the west-northwest at 16mph.
That’s about 780 miles east of Palm Beach, Florida. The current track by the National
Hurricane Center (NHC) predicts landfall in two or three days, somewhere between Florida
and North Carolina. I live in Wilmington, NC. I’m not a meteorologist, nor do I have
any formal training in weather forecasting. I do live right on the Cape Fear Coast -- what
has become known in recent years as Hurricane Alley. My house sits about 280 feet from the
Intracoastal Waterway, a saltwater channel -- part natural, part manmade -- that runs
about 3000 miles, from Boston, Massachusetts to Brownsville, Texas. It’s one of the
most beautiful, naturally abundant views one could wish for; there are days where I can
watch dolphin and osprey from my living room and hear the roar of the ocean just a few
miles away. Mother Nature can turn this natural paradise into a living hell, however, and
usually does sometime between August and October of each year.
I’ve been through a number of hurricanes in the past
eight years. We had Bertha on July 16, 1996, Fran later that year, Bonnie two years after
that, then Dennis and Floyd in 1999. We’ve had some minor brushes since then, as
well: We felt the remnants of Charley this year, but Florida took the brunt of that
category 4 hurricane. On the Saffir-Simpson scale, a category 4 designation is reached when
sustained winds are clocked at 131mph, while a category 5 is pronounced when wind speeds
are above 155mph. Category 5 hurricanes are rarities, and are often termed
"catastrophic" because they leave total destruction in their path. Hurricane
Andrew, originally thought to be a 4 back on August 24, 1992, has since been revised by
the NHC, which has determined that the hurricane was indeed a 5. Andrew caused more than
$30,000,000,000 in damage (yes, that’s the right number of zeros).
It’s a surreal feeling knowing that, within the next
three days, I could be fishing on my pier -- or, just as easily, be in a hotel somewhere
in the western part of the state, wondering if I should rebuild my house. Evacuation would
be mandatory if Frances reached the coast at its current strength. Besides, my
family’s safety is far more important than "riding out the storm" -- a
fool’s notion in the face of a storm the intensity of Frances.
But there’s work to be done today. I’ve been
considering the space my wife and I have in our two vehicles, which has led me to plan, in
the case of an evacuation, what I would take with me vs. what I would leave behind.
I’d take important documents such as insurance policies, and keepsakes such as photo
albums. I’d take clothing and cash, too. My home theater would sit right where it is.
I’m trying to ship out a few review samples today, but my own equipment is too big
and heavy to be moved, and I’d have nowhere to take it anyway. Overall, though, the
gear is of little concern.
I say all of this not to be melodramatic or flippant, but
to put things in perspective. Home theater is a hobby, and home theaters -- even expensive
ones -- can be replaced. It’s funny how, when you begin to take something too
seriously, an event can come along that reshuffles your priorities. Have fun with home
theater, but don’t take any of it too seriously. A negative review of a component
that you own, a company that promised an upgrade that never materialized, a malfunctioning
processor that’s been back to the manufacturer three times -- these are all
unfortunate occurrences, but hardly the end of the world.
Consider this just a friendly reminder from your trusty Home
Theater & Sound editor. And to those of you in Florida, Georgia, and the
Carolinas, be safe, and good luck.
...Jeff Fritz
editor@hometheatersound.com |
