Since hurricane season begins Friday, Dilettante thought it might be time to share the tips that have seen me through various weather “events” over the years. Print this up and tape it to the inside of your bathroom cabinet in case of emergency.

- If you are faced with an imminent flood, tornado, hurricane or other natural disaster, the first thing you must do is pick a fight with your spouse or roommate. At some point during the weather event you’ll probably be without power – meaning no TV or internet – so you’ll need something to occupy your time.

- If you manage not to lose your electricity (or have a generator because you’re a militia member), make sure you watch the Weather Channel. When Hurricane Rita was swirling our direction, the Weather Channel didn’t change the tone of its music to reflect the utter scariness of the storm. Nothing like bringing in all the plants and lawn furniture and pausing, arms full, next to the television to see the massive red and yellow satellite image of a storm that is bigger than Texas spinning ominously in the Gulf to the sounds of light jazz.

- If you have a canoe or other form of water transport, take your kids out for some fun in the flood. It’ll be like a mini-vacation. Have plenty of antibiotics on hand for the inevitable full-body rash or intestinal disorder that’s sure to follow.

- If your car floats down the freeway, sideways, take a picture to send out with your next holiday card. Inside the card write something breezy such as, “Oh well, it was dirty anyway.” Impress friends and family with your ability to overcome any obstacle with a cheery disposition. Do this before your insurance agent tells you that acts of God are not covered in your policy.

- If your phone is working and someone from out of town calls to check up on you during some particularly heavy rainfall, ask them if they know when you’ll be getting more of “the wet stuff.” Actually, only refer to the bucketfuls of rain being dumped on the city as “the wet stuff” for the entire weather event. If things with your spouse/roommate aren’t bad yet, these words said over and over in a singsong lilt will be sure to do finish the job.

- If you hear the sound of a train outside, that’s probably a tornado. Unless you live next to railroad tracks, in which case you need to determine if it’s a train or a tornado so you can prepare appropriately. If it’s dark outside and raining so hard you can’t see past your own ghostly reflection in the window, go stand on the tracks. You’ll be able to feel the vibration of a coming train through your shoes. If no train is coming, run back to the house and seek shelter in the safest interior room, excluding any room that features your spouse/roommate. That would just be awkward.

- If you’re considering evacuating town when the authorities tell you to do so, stand on one end of your living room and run as fast as you can across the room. When you reach the other side, ram your head into the wall. Hopefully that will knock some sense into you, and you’ll keep the car in the garage.

- If you don’t have the necessary hunker-down supplies on hand, go to Spec’s. When Hurricane Rita was just hours from landing and most businesses had closed their doors and nailed large planks of plywood over their windows, Spec’s on Smith Street was open for business. If the storm has a fortunate name like “Rita,” you can go thematic. We could wait for years before Hurricane Red Stripe arrives, however, so in the interim here’s your generic shopping list: booze, crunchy snacks, fruit, deck of cards, candles, bottled water, cured meat, crusty bread and chocolate. These items will see you through anything. Plus they’ll still be useful when the skies have cleared, unlike all those batteries you bought.

[This column originally appeared in its entirety on Houstonist.]

I have to go to a wedding shower this week. It’s the second one this month (two different couples), and in addition to the shower gifts, I’ll bring another present to each wedding. All of this shopping is costing me a lot of money, and one of the couples is on their second marriage. At what point can I stop buying my friends gravy boats and placemats?

This thought has crossed Dilettante’s mind a time or two. I find it harder and harder to go to wedding showers for friends who are in their 30s. You throw a young couple a shower because they are, in theory, moving out of their parents’ houses and into their own. In that situation, the couple presumably doesn’t have the basic necessities for domestic living, and they need a little help from friends and family. But Americans are getting married later than they used to; most men and women are in their late twenties before they embark on their first marriages.

If you’ve been living on your own since at least college – five years, a decade or more – don’t you already own plates? And pots and pans and glassware and a few forks? Of course you do. So the whole concept of sending all your friends to Macy’s to buy you the shiny stuff you scanned during a frenetic shopping spree, pointing that electronic reader at everything that caught your eye, just seems so…silly.

There should be an age limit to the wedding shower. If you’ve been on your own for a decade or more, no shower. Wedding gifts are still acceptable, but guests should be able to give you whatever they feel is appropriate. As for the couples who request cash donations for their honeymoon, stock portfolio, house down payment – they should get a ceramic chicken sculpture.

When are we going to be able to resume flying with full-size toiletries in our carry-on bags? I’m going out of town for two weeks and can’t fit everything I need in a little zippered sandwich baggie.

Why don’t you just put your toiletries in your checked luggage? Oh, right, because the changes in pressure in the luggage compartment inevitably cause at least one item to explode, thereby making all of your clothes smell like CK One.

Dilettante had to fly during the no-liquids-on-board period, and it was tough knowing that my contact lens solution was baking in the bowels of the airplane while I watched a guy walk on board illegally carrying a big cup of Starbucks coffee (or was it a bomb???). This is back when you weren’t supposed to bring even a bottle of water purchased AT THE AIRPORT onto the flight. So there has been some progress – now you can bring on all the over-priced airport water you want in addition to tiny tubes of toothpaste and little bottles of mouthwash. Once the next “threat” arrives, probably something involving belts or hats or maybe scarves, toiletries will no longer be on the hit list. Hopefully. Then again, we’re still having to remove our shoes.

[This column originally appeared in its entirety on Houstonist.]

Is it true that the New Orleans Poboy lot is going to be turned into a Barnes & Noble?

You’re getting your Houston landmark bulldozed for crappy chain store story confused. I’m not sure what will be built on the lot where Original New Orleans Po-Boy served up some of the best burgers in Houston. Whatever it becomes, it won’t be as interesting as a cash-only burger joint with saucy counter help who made you so nervous, you’d rehearse your order in your head prior to being asked for it. And, inevitably, you’d stumble and forget to say “no mayo” and then get some attitude when you corrected your order. It will be sure to lack metal-capped chair legs that made a horrible screeching noise when the uninitiated scooted back on the tile floor without rising out of the seat. It won’t have individual wedges of Sock-it-to-Me cake wrapped in plastic next to the register. Count on it.

There are rules to having a good burger experience. The place has to be the type of establishment most likely described as a “joint” – no fancy restaurants serving up expensive yuppie burgers. The place has to have at least one really bitchy employee. The place has to be in or near a neighborhood and at least half-populated with regular customers. The place has to have a slight layer of grease on the walls that could be removed with a fingernail, if you dared. Of course, you don’t dare. You’re not crazy, just hungry.

The last year in Houston has been a sad one for burger lovers. In addition to Original New Orleans Po-Boy, the Pig Stand on Washington Avenue closed down. Just as with the po’ boy place, there was no warning. Dedicated customers were not given the chance to come by for one final bite, weeping into their burger baskets as yet another piece of Houston history bit the dust. So my suggestion to all burger lovers is to enjoy the few legit places that remain, knowing that each time you go might be your last.

So Dilettante, how’s the presidential race going? Are you raising a lot of money for your campaign? Have you picked a running mate yet?

Yeah, about that bid of mine…things aren’t progressing as well as I’d hoped. I wasn’t invited to participate in either of the recent debates. As of today, I have raised roughly $63.75. It is being estimated that the 2008 presidential election will cost over $1 billion for the first time ever, with each of the two main candidates spending $500 million. Seems in order to be considered a “serious” contender, candidates will have to have $100 million in their coffers by the end of the year. That’s seven months away, so I really have my work cut out for me.

As for the running mate, I’ve been thinking hard about my options. Since I don’t have enough money to buy my way into office, which is the American way of late, I was thinking of asking an adorable little puppy to be my second-in-command. Who can deny a furry, cuddly little fuzzball? The timing has to be just right to get the biggest bang from the cute factor, though, because those things grow really fast.

[This column originally appeared in its entirety on Houstonist.]

Last night, I went out with some friends for a few drinks. Since when has Cinco de Mayo become such a big drinking event? It’s not even a major holiday in Mexico.

As long as Dilettante has been aware of Cinco de Mayo, it has been a drinking holiday. But it does seem to be turning into more and more of an excuse to go out and get ‘faced. We have at least one holiday each month that provides a great chance to wear a stupid themed hat and drink too much. Check it.

January = New Year’s Day (booze and glitter)
February = Mardi Gras (titties, hurricanes and little plastic baby hidden in cake)
March = St. Patrick’s Day (wow, green puke)
April = Earth Day (organic home brew)
May = Cinco de Mayo, Memorial Day (Mexican beer for the former and beer consumed on or near water for the latter)
June = Father’s Day (good scotch and shitty neckties)
July = the Fourth (sparklers and sweating over margarita machine that won’t freeze right)
September = Labor Day (basically, it’s Memorial Day II)
October = Halloween (dress like a whore and drink red wine, pretending it’s blood)
November = Thanksgiving (I’m so full I don’t think I can have another…actually, pass me the gravy boat and the bourbon – I just had an idea)
December = Hanukkah and Christmas (nothing shows how much you care about your spiritual side like going out after being with the family and getting plowed to wipe the memory of it from your mind)

You’ll note there’s nothing really to celebrate in August on a national scale. We need, no, we must create a new drunken holiday for the eighth month. Let’s brainstorm.

The first week of August is breastfeeding week around the world, and it’s clown week in the US. Is there the chance to combine those two things? Actually, the visual of a breastfeeding clown is too disorienting, especially to drunks. Scratch that.

Celebrating birthdays is always fun. Both Jerry Garcia and Orville Wright were born in August. Wait. The chance that the police might up their presence on “Get High” night makes it a bad choice.

There are significant historical events. August 6, the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Get Bombed? Nope. Too much of a tragedy, not that most people know the reason behind the events they’re marking by getting plowed.

My vote is August 8. It’s located almost exactly between July 4th and Labor Day. And there’s already an “established” holiday. Seriously, it’s Sneak Some Zucchini on Your Neighbor’s Porch Day. How would the booze get worked into this equation? Giving people the opportunity to walk around with a large green zucchini strapped to their waists is a slam dunk. Just like Halloween, the potential naughty aspect will make people want to be involved. The type of drink doesn’t really matter. Perhaps it could utilize something else from the garden – the lemon. August is a hot month, so a vodka with lemonade would be really refreshing, plus it’ll get you drunk. That’s when you go sneaking around the neighborhood with your zucchini in your hand, leaving it on people’s porches. Works for me.

[This column originally appeared in its entirety on Houstonist.]