A Father's Dilemma

Wait for it...

Tempted as I am to file another note on life in Houston and the aftermath of Ike, I thought you might all have had your fill of tales of dangerous driving, an over-reliance on gadgetry, the reckless destruction of property and mordant British wit. So I'm going to discuss James Bond with you instead.

I may not have mentioned this before, but I am a bit of a Bond obsessive. As a very small boy I watched the films on telly, as a young teenager I read the novels and I derived a lot of pleasure from both. And yes, I have also gone waaay overboard, reading non-Fleming continuation novels, buying soundtrack CDs and toy DB5s and playing Bond-related video games.

What you might have missed is that this passion has cooled considerably in recent years. I am not the utterly ardent Bond-fan I once was. There are plenty of reasons behind this, including the varying quality of recent movies and the return of 'Doctor Who' - I only have so much sad-obsessive-geekiness to go round you know.

But all this is skirting the issue - the real reason is that my reconsideration of Bond has coincided with becoming a father. To put it bluntly, it is harder to combine a love of all things Bond with the responsibilities of parenting. And just as we were undergoing this change, the world lurched in another direction: Laura's first bout of maternity leave overlapped with the invasion of Iraq. There was nothing for her to do but watch television and nothing else for her to watch apart from rolling news footage of irresponsible violence. In a world where suspected terrorists (i.e. innocent bystanders) could be shot dead on the Tube, the casual fantasy violence of Bond's world became more unpalatable and, crucially, less justifiable.

A Bad Man.

 When my parents had let me watch Connery or Moore save the world there had been no doubt that these adventures were suitable viewing. Even I understood the basic premise of the Cold War that shaped them. When William saw a television trailer for 'Casino Royale', his heartfelt, confused wail was "Who is that BAD MAN and why is he doing those BAD THINGS?!" Well, quite. Son, let me explain why it's okay to go around shooting people...

This what reading the Guardian gets you. Okay, that was then, this is now. Why am I suddenly thinking about 007 again? Well, it is a big Bond year. Sebastian Faulks' 'Devil May Care' was published in the spring (don't bother) and Charlie Higson's excellent 'Young Bond' series has just concluded with the release of the fifth book: 'By Royal Command'. Pre-publicity for 'Quantum of Solace' is about to go into overdrive with barely a month to go before the new movie hits cinemas. And finally, I am about to be reunited with all my books and DVDs that have been sluggishly cruising the Atlantic. I am getting the itch again.

And I am going to have to face up to the fact that there is little reason to 'shelter' the boys from 007 much longer. They don't have toy guns, but they make their own from Lego and there's no way to stop that. The boys next door (8 and 6) have real guns. Well, this is Texas. William, at least, is nearly six and certainly older than I was when I watched my first film. He's growing up fast too - there's a reason 'Return of the Jedi' is his favourite Star Wars episode and it is that gold bikini. Bond is already beginning to bleed into William's consciousness - the name, like that of Indiana Jones, is known even if it is also a mystery. Finally, let's not be coy: James Bond is, like a slice of cucumber in a glass of Pimm's, very cool and very British. My boys are growing up in the heartland of American machismo - plenty of kids in the playground can be Felix Leiter to their 007.

My dilemma has changed then. I'm not worried about William trying to rationalise the sex, or the sexism, or the violence, or the not-so-subtle racism (had you noticed all the baddies were foreigners?) That's all stuff he's going to have to come to terms with at some point or other - at least if I'm in the room with him, I can provide the necessary context and reassurances.

No, my new dilemma, having sort of made my mind up, is: where the hell do I start? I said at the top that I wanted to discuss Bond with you and I was serious - I'd like thoughts and suggestions. Twenty-one films over forty-five years - this knocks the Star Wars argument (I,II, III, IV, V, VI? or IV, V, VI, I, II, III? or just IV, V, VI?) out of the water.

Should I pick a film that is lighter in tone? 'Moonraker' perhaps or 'The Spy Who Loved Me'? Or should I go for all out brilliance - 'Goldfinger', obviously - although I would have to cringe through the scene in the barn: attitudes to sexual consent have improved a little since 1964 haven't they? Or maybe I should try and show him something fairly recent, something that takes place in a world he vaguely recognises? 'The World is Not Enough' or possibly something as old as 'The Living Daylights' might do, but again the world has changed a little: Soviet troops oppressing Afghanistan? Bond aiding the Mujahideen? Hmmm..

Another strategy would be to start with 'Dr. No' and work forwards. But, well... that sounds a little drastic. I'm fairly sure I know which ones to avoid off the bat: 'OHMSS', 'Licence to Kill' and 'Casino Royale' are too dark for now. As for 'Die Another Day', well there's no reason to admit that exists is there?

So, fellow aficionados, fellow parents, any ideas?

Power Complex

It's almost 11 o'clock in the morning here and I have electricity. For the last three days a neighbour's generator has run our fridge and a night-light for the boys but other than that we have had no power since about 2am on Saturday when Ike was approaching the most terrifying point in his rampage.

This is not going to be a long note - there are still over a million Houstonians without power and some of them don't even have houses any more. Many are still reliant on the city for handouts of emergency food and ice and petrol stations are still beset by queues. But I did want to let you know that things are getting back to normal for us at least.

We have not been uncomfortable this week - we have been royally looked after by Caroline and having a fridge also made a massive difference - but sitting in the dark, with no real idea whether the power will come back on tomorrow or in a fortnight's time, is the sort of experience which gnaws away at you day after day, or rather night after night. I admit that I was developing a complex of sorts - with every day that went past, it got a little harder to grit one's teeth and get on with it, a little harder to find a bright side by candle-light.

This morning, with the boys distracted by something soothingly quiet, I suddenly realised that an unfamiliar noise had been buzzing about me for several minutes. I looked up to see the ceiling fan rotating gently - but what? That would mean... I whirled about to see a standby light gleaming on the television. Once again neighbours poured out of their houses, this time giving each other cheery waves and slightly manic grins. My neighbour and I conferred and agreed it was probably safe to switch off the generator. We, at least, were properly back in the fold of civilisation. Until next time anyway.

* * *

Yesterday I took the boys to the supermarket. I rang ahead to make sure it was open and the woman on the other end of the phone seemed aggrieved that I had felt the need to check. Of course they were open!

The car park was nearly empty when we got there and inside it was like a listing ship. The near end and the checkouts were lit, but the far end was in total darkness, making it feel as if the whole thing was wallowing at an angle. The fridges and freezers were empty of course and the fruit and vegetable section and the bakery were fenced off. But everything else was there, albeit in shadows.

Reverently, we paced up and down, wading in to the darkness, checking the nutritional information of a can of soup by the tinny glare of my mobile phone. The staff were there in force, some with torches, all helpful and dedicated. It was at once both a chastening and an encouraging experience.

Things in our part of town are beginning to feel normal again. The traffic lights are still out which makes driving a fraught experience once again but everything else is coming together. Hopefully school will re-open next week.

For some people the wait for normal things - like turning on a light against the darkness - will be much longer.

After Ike

I've just got online at a friend's house. It's the day after the day after Ike and you all probably know much more about it than I do. We have no power, no internet and only the famous radio on which to receive news.

The news is we have been very lucky. The house suffered only the most minute amount of damage and our fence blew down. No trees came down on our street and nobody got hurt. Just driving around today we saw roofs and cars stoved in by falling branches.

Yesterday I was at a bit of a loss to begin with - after the storm had largely passed I realised I had given little thought to what happens next. But we soon got into clear up mode. The houses around us emptied and we all emerged into the rain to start moving leaves, tree limbs and other debris. It took all day, but it was one of those weird neighbourly things that the British only manage when there is a war on.

Today we have worked out how to manually open the garage doors and we have ventured as far as Caroline and Perryn's house (a few blocks away) - they have a generator so we are able to recharge the kid-occupying DS and portable DVD player, not to mention phones and the radio.

Downtown Houston is blocked off - a lot of high-rises lost all their windows (and a lot of office furniture) and it's too dangerous to let the public in. Entry to Galveston Island is forbidden for the same reason but it looks like thousands of people did not die.

Millions of people lost power though, and today they are saying that it could take 4 weeks for electricity to be re-connected. The water supply is low but we do have water and that should resume properly for everyone today or tomorrow once the appropriate tests have been performed. Really we are waiting for some normality - for electricity or at least for shops to open where batteries and stuff can be bought without a riot kicking off.

Map showing the power loss. That red splodge? That's me that is.

We have heard lots of stories on the radio from people who have been less fortunate than us - we really have escaped without a scratch - but overall it seems that the authorities are doing what they can and that the city will be back up and running soon. The clean up will take a long time but hopefully improvements can be made before the next hurricane - underground power lines would be good!

The consensus is that Houston hasn't had a storm like this in 25 years and hopefully there won't be another one soon.

Hide from the Wind, Run from the Sea...

Thursday morning.

Eleven days ago Ike was just a tropical depression, 3955 miles away. Since then it has wobbled and dithered, strengthened and faltered, meandering across the Atlantic ocean and the Gulf of Mexico all the way to - quite literally - my door step. On the way it became a Category 4 Hurricane and dropped its shoulder, smashing into Haiti and Cuba, killing hundreds of people and destroying whatever had somehow survived Dolly, Edouard, Gustav and Josephine.

With the limp exception of Edouard, none of that had come anywhere near us here. And as of Wednesday lunchtime that was what we expected of Ike too. But, uncannily, the storm pivoted, span around like a drunk looking for a fight and set of with heavy inevitability for the swadge of coastline directly in front of Houston - the third (or fourth) most populous city in the United States.

Thursday was sunny and warm with gentle breezes. 'A good day to get ready,' said my best friend Gene Norman, who is (as you'll know) Chief Meteorologist of KHOU Channel 11 News. The Mayor of Houston, Bill White, and the Judge of Harris County, Ed Emmett, came on the TV and made it clear what was going to happen. A list of ZIP codes was announced - people who lived here were told to evacuate as soon as possible. Mandatory. Everybody else was told to stay and shelter in place - the last thing they wanted after Rita (2005) was for the entire population of the city to try and get on the road at the same time. The imperative was to let people in mortal danger get out.

With both the boys at school and Laura toiling away out of town, I knew had a spare morning to try and snaffle a few more supplies before we had to batten down the hatches. Petrol stations were beginning to run dry and it looked like half of Texas had the same shopping list as me but I couldn't believe how polite and, well, almost British everyone was being.

Firstly, I went to Academy (basically a Texas-sized Millets). Expecting a power-outage, I wanted a cool box and a camping stove. The middle-aged woman who came in the door with me wanted the same things and we ended up side by side looking at the last gas stove on the shelf.

'You have it,' she said.

'Not at all,' I said, knowing I had the upper hand being actually British: no Yank was going to out-defer me... 'You got there first, you should take it.'

'Let's flip for it,' she said. And wouldn't take no for an answer. So she called Heads and I tossed a shiny quarter. It came down Montana cow skull (that's Tails) and she gave me the box.

Boy, did I feel bad.

I slunk about, found my cool box and some batteries and started looking for propane cannisters. There was a huge pyramid of gas stoves. And the woman. Phew. So we laughed about that and started discussing how many gas cannisters to get. An enormous man leaned over and whispered, 'Get a case.'

The scariest thing about that shop? The people rubbing their chins in the gun aisle. And - instead of sweets on the checkout - Remington shot gun cartridges.

I went to the supermarket and bought some more water and tins of food. With every storm I've bought a few more items but I'm still about two major storms away from being totally equipped, I think. I don't have an axe. And I don't have plywood for the windows but I'm still not convinced we need that. It's difficult to tell. Anyway the supermarket was a less decorous affair. There were no trolleys to be had for one thing and they were running low on water. People in Academy were swapping conspiratorial smiles - here there were shifty accusatory glances and I was glad to get home.

Back on the TV, the Governor of Texas, Rick Perry was issuing some stern stuff from the podium. He cuts an impressive figure and is tipped for big things by Republicans and it's easy to see why. The relevant authorities have impressed me throughout - they have had a plan and it has worked. So far at least. If this was eight years ago then it would be George W. Bush trying to reassure me. That's even scarier than Ike isn't it?

 

Galveston is the sliver of land marked A which is tonight under water. Galveston Bay, above it and to the right, funnels the surge water far inland. Central Houston (i.e. us) is off the map to the north.

I should point out that a hurricane like Ike has three elements of danger: sea surge, wind and rain. The first of these is the most dangerous. As the storm approaches land, it harries the water in front of it, creating massive waves that swamp the coast. Whilst Ike is currently a cat 2 storm, the surge effect is much stronger - more like a cat 4 or 5. Very serious indeed. This means that Galveston Island, the Bolivar Peninsula and the coast about Galveston Bay are either underwater or besieged. In these places the water level is going to rise to as much as twenty feet above normal. This is why mandatory evacuation orders were given. What I can not explain is why 25,000 people in Galveston (a sand bar with a highest point of 10 foot above sea level) have ignored those orders and are, in the words of the National Weather Service, 'facing certain death.' Each to his own I suppose.

Friday Morning

KHOU has been broadcasting rolling hurricane news since breakfast yesterday. All the time they've repeated the same maxim: 'Hide from the wind, run from the sea.' It might be the state motto for all I know but as advice goes it is simultaneously frightening and reassuring. The coverage itself is gripping television and is reminiscent of election night broadcasts - it's live, they keep cutting to reporters around the country and there is the same sense of anticipation. Instead of swingometers there are radar, wind speed monitors and a mind-numbing array of graphics. The reporters are amazing - delivering lines to camera whilst leaning into the wind at crazy angles, rain whipping at their faces and constantly name-checking the camera men - that's a bad sign in my book.

With every forecast the lurid swirl of Ike, curled like a fist, gets closer and closer. He is a truly enormous storm - six hundred miles across if you can believe it. This is actually a good thing - if it was smaller it would be spinning faster and be stronger. As it is he is a little unwieldy and that may make a big difference. It's 10pm as I type (4am BST) and we currently have very strong winds blowing outside, but no rain. We are safe from the flooding, but there is the slight chance of a tornado ripping up the street.

We'll just have to wait and see!

Friday Evening.

The middle of the storm is expected to hit about midnight - that will be hurricane force winds and rain - and Ike should have moved on by tea-time. Although the centre of the storm is, freakishly, going to mow straight through the middle of down town Houston, we are slightly to the left of that and consequently not on the 'dirty' side of the storm. At this range it may not make much difference I guess.

We are expecting to lose power any time so I'll post this straight away. We will be off line for a considerable amount of time: power could be out for many days. We are all fine and confident. The boys are bright and bonny.

As soon as we're back up we'll let you know what's happened next!