The other Jewish Elvis in Cajun country

As you know, Ivan hit this morning, and I can tell you the damage here was grim. The eye of the hurricane started in my plastic cup and came ashore somewhere in my cerebral cortex before taking a southerly track to my digestive track where it maintained its category 5 status until reaching the toilet, where it broke up. I got a good sense of the destruction wrought around 7:30 a.m. when my alarm went off and stumbled to work only to be told by law enforcement that not only was there no storm damage, but that Baton Rouge didn't even get a drop of rain. In short, I felt like Gulf Shores, Alabama looked.