Not until they can deliver the next vat of ibuprohen.

You want to know about the power of a storm like Hurricane Dennis? Forget the barometers and the airplanes that fly into the eye. Just find some surfers or windsurfers. Look into their eyes. See the exhaustion? Right. They're hurting. Which means Dennis was a powerful one.

Now look at their smiles. See the exhilaration? Yes, they're way happy. That's another indication of a storm's power. A third way to measure: the collective drop in productivity in a given area. A lot of the people who made it to work this week weren't really there.

Dennis never even got close, but it had a profound effect on many lives here. The shore's central nervous system went from 110 volts to 440. Friendships were renewed, stories told, reputations made. Young studs cut back on their beer drinking and went to bed early. Grownups with suits and bad attitudes cut work and became younger. And it wasn't just for the people who got to play in the water. Folks who barely notice the ocean were drawn to it, to stare and think. Families came to watch. Kids dreamed of riding those waves. The beach became a stage. The ocean performed. Some of us got to be extras in nature's big show.

"....small-craft advisory, gale warning, coastal flood warning, heavy surf advisory.... NE winds 25-30 knots, seas 8-12 feet ..... Delaware Bay Buoy reporting 17-foot waves .....Beaches closed ... "

Does that do anything to your heart? OK, do one thing for me, before it's too late.

Go find a beach and stand on it, before the waves fade. Be still for a moment. Listen. Hear it? Feel it? Yeah. That's the hurricane buzz. That's what I'm talking about. Dennis is history, but its vibe is so powerful, so deep, so intense that it will remain for a long, long time. It's made of adrenaline, fear, dread, excitement and anticipation, and it starts building every time a tropical wave leaves the coast of Africa. By the time that wave turns into a hurricane, the feeling is strong. If it makes a turn north, people start talking. Last week you could hear it out in the lineup, where surfers are sitting on their boards, waiting for waves. "Yeah, there's three out there..... could bring us something .... never know ....."

It's all about the swell, the waves - huge, hollowed-out, sand-sucking, head-smacking bowls of energy. When this energy begins arriving at our beaches, it is immediately transferred to the people who ride waves. From there it works its way out into the civilian population.

It's not just surfers. Boogie boarders, body surfers, windsurfers, lifeguards in lifeboats - everybody wants in.

If this was a Hemingway story it would be the time when the guy picks up his gun and goes into the jungle or the hills of Spain and comes out a man or ... dead, or ashamed. It doesn't matter how good you are at talking about riding waves. This is the real thing. It's what wave people live for, a chance to see how good they are, and to get better. Hitting the lip of a double-overhead about-to-close-out wave and making it would be beautiful, but trying it and getting crushed by a pipe bomb closeout is OK too, because that means you went for it, and if some of your buddies are standing on the beach watching, so much the better, because you know they'll be hollering and whistling and laughing and talking about how sick the move was.

And yes, things break, especially when you're talking about an equipment-intensive sport like windsurfing. One guy broke his nose. I saw two snapped-in-half boards. I broke a mast. But mostly it was just sore bodies asking for sleep and Ibuprophine, and the strength to do it again the next day. I don't think even this kind of windsurfing is dangerous. Getting separated from your rig way out, or getting hit in the head and knocked out .... well, that could be bad. But even if it's not dangerous, it opens your eyes right up.

People came from as far away as Maryland to windsurf in Strathmere, it's that good. At one point, one of the Maryland guys looked at me and said, "Man, you guys are lucky," meaning we have got a great place to sail the big storms. And he's right.

OK, one quick story: Photographer Chris Polk shows up in Strathmere, sets himself up on the jetty. I get one wave in front of him .... get closed out on ... and wind up getting washed about four blocks down before I can fight back out, panting and cursing, knowing he'll probably be gone by the time I get back in front of him to show off. It takes me 20 minutes of hard upwind sailing, but I finally get myself back, and he's still there, and I pick up a nice wave -- probably three foot overhead - get two nice turns on it, go for the lip at the critical time, thinking I'm only getting one more shot at the camera before Polk decides to quit ... I think a building fell on me or something. I lose my rig, go for a swim, and watch my pride float away toward Sea Isle. Meanwhile my friends are absolutely KILLING IT right in front of Polk, getting wave after wave. I hate those guys.

See what hurricanes do to people? Here I am, middle-aged, trying to act and talk like some young surf dude. And do I care how dumb it sounds? No way, dude. I rode Dennis. So what if it rode me back? /l