Man and boy I have sat around this nation for nigh on a century watching hirricanes and i never yet knew one named Bob.

Knew one named Alice. Wow.But the weather people - the ones paid $65,000 a year to guess wrong two times out of three - have decided to name hurricanes for guys.

The first one of consequence, which may blow Louisiana to smithereens if all goes well, is named Hurricane Bob.

Followed we suppose by Caligula, Draco, Ephriam, Francois and Giacomo.

(In plain fact, the next one will be Claudette, followed by David, Elena, Frederick, Gloria, Henri, Isabelle, Juan, Kate, Larry, Mindy, Nicholas, Odette, Peter, Rose, Sam, Theresa, Victor and Wanda Beyond that, all hell breaks loose - we never needed to go past Wanda before.)

The female element of society has been complaining that hurricanes (Camile, of noted memory) have slurred their soft and gracious sex.

In France, where they know nothing of sex, or even English, they call hurricanes ouragans and call them male.

Tornadoes, or tornades as the French misname them, are feminie.

Everybody who speaks English knows tornadoes are masculine and hurricanes are feminine. Trust the French to get it backwards.

Bob. Bobmay eye.

In New Orleans they didn't mind getting ruint by Hurricane Camille - that was the time they were so disorganized they couldn't figure how to get fresh water for the poor dogs and threatened to shoot them. There is something very depraved about New Orleans, of course, but at least they comprehended their hurricane was Camille.

O blow and crack your cheeks. O show the heavens more just.

Those were sound correct responses to hurricanes. Before Skylab. Before Bob.

One thing we know. When the avenging goddess strikes, when the house is swept away, when the oaks sail through the air like threads of spiders, it aint't no Bob that done it.