Recipe for a Hurricane: Several shots of drama with a splash of hype.

Geez. Could Sandy come with any more hype?

I awoke this morning to dramatic reports from coastal towns like Virginia Beach and Atlantic City. At least there was pounding surf and people manhandling sheets of plywood. But when the local news came on, I simply could not believe it when I heard the announcements of local school and business closings. My husband’s Hartford office even canceled their daily line-up of teleconferences. No joke. And all this before even a puff of wind or drizzle of rain, not to mention loss of phone service.

With pretty much everything closed down, I’ve spent the better part of the day avoiding my husband and awaiting the Armageddon that CNN and The Weather Channel have been promising for nearly a week.

The media coverage is like a train wreck, and as ridiculous as it’s become, I can’t look away for long. Between breaking news reports of empty grocery store shelves and live video of 90-pound reporters being blown around like newspaper circulars in the Big Y parking lot, there are urgent reminders to secure storm supplies, not to run generators indoors and to stay away from live wires. Really? This is news?

Uh. Back up a minute. Supplies... I’m having a moment of panic, and not because we failed to score batteries for the flashlight or download movies from Netflix before their servers crash. No, I just realized that we are short a few essential ingredients for a hurricane—the drink, that is.

I better make a quick trip to the liquor store now, because the wind has picked up and the lights just flickered. If this thing pans out to be the monster the prognosticators have been predicting, I just might have to eat my words, and I’m sure they’ll go down a whole lot easier with a cocktail…or two.