I have mixed feelings about all this. Been there too many times. Felt the worry, seen the damage, experienced it on a level that closely resembles fascination, the morbid kind, but always with a small part of my brain remaining the cold, objective observer that just thinks: “Is this what the final dive down feels like?”

With the MTA public transit grid initiating a system-wide shutdown tomorrow Saturday at noon, with a mandatory evacuation of the lowest lying areas of the five boroughs already issued, with 26 tower cranes which cannot be disassembled in time still looming over the city, with the potential for a Category 1 or 2 hurricane making landfall nearby, Marie and I were out shopping for supplies earlier and found the shops packed with smiling people preparing dutiful for the worse.

Granted, New York has seen its share of drama, too much in fact. But this is something most people around here are not prepared for and just as last winter’s blizzard caught the city with its defenses down, there is real risk that even a weak storm could cause much damage. While in the tropics people almost sleepwalk through their hurricane preparation plan, boarding up, packing supplies, stocking water up, cutting coconuts down, tying up anything lose that could become a deadly projectile, gathering batteries, candles, and… beer, many here might not even be aware of the necessity to do so.

Sure they’ve seen or heard of a few spectacular tornadoes last year. The difference is that Irene will beat down on the city relentlessly for hours, loosening knots and screws, chipping away at a rusty armor that only too rarely is put to use. And then there is the storm surge. As I was writing recently, New York is very close to sea level and has an enormous amount of shoreline. Flooding is almost unavoidable at this stage, and might be the greatest damage instigator.

But there is still a chance the hurricane might weaken faster than expected, or be pushed further out towards the ocean. This could only turn out to have been a close call. Whether the center, expected to be at its closest sometime on Sunday, trashes its way right over Long Island, further inland or far at sea, will make all the difference. Sadly, if the blunt of Irene’s fury misses us, someone else is likely to be less lucky.

Either way, no one goes through a hurricane unchanged, or unaffected. When the sun returns and stories are born, most eyes seem a little more thoughtful, staring slightly further away than they usually do. Eyebrows are raised. Heads nod, remembering. Deep breaths are taken. Pride shrinks a notch, and often, sleeves are rolled up and much hard work begins.

I wonder how much the Weather Channel charges for an add on their high-traffic tropical storm page. It must be a bit like Superbowl commercials: short-lived opportunity, high viewership, emotional situation, big, big dollar signs… Someone always benefits from catastrophes.

Here is slogan for weather stations: Bad weather is good business.