Stormy Weather

(Lena Horne, 1941)

Last night, sitting on the screened-in porch, listening to it rain and thunder I had to think (again) that life doesn't get much better than this. Over the past three summers we've lived here, I've been known to get out of bed, creep down the stairs and sneak out onto that porch to enjoy a summer night's storm. In fact, that porch - and the promise of years of summer storms - is one of the main reasons we bought this house.

I wasn't always a fan of storms. The truth is, I was terrified of them, especially tornadoes. When I was growing up in Marshall, MO we had our fair share of tornado threats. Nearby Sedalia (30 minutes away) was nicknamed Tornado Alley and got hit numerous times in the 60's and early 70's. I clearly remember one day when the sirens went off and I was in school (probably first or second grade). We were all out in the hallway, backs against the wall with our heads tucked into our chests, hands around our heads. My dad arrived to take us home and that meant a whole carload of kids, since we had a huge neighborhood carpool - probably at least seven or eight kids (and there were no mini-vans back in the day, just huge, lumbering station wagons with maybe four seatbelts). About half way home, dad remembered he had forgotten to get Marcie Roberts. "JUST LEAVE HER! JUST LEAVE HER!" I screamed, my eyes wild with fright. I'm not even kidding one bit. I was perfectly prepared to let her get sucked up into the tornado, just get me home to my basement. Of course, we went back, rescued Marcie and lived to tell the tale.

I also have a vague memory of all the neighbors going over to the Yaeger's basement when weather was bad. I'm not sure why, since we all had basements, but I always thought I'd be safer there (or at least have more fun being terrified out of my wits). Perhaps my most surreal tornado memory was at the dentist's office when I was 12. I was getting teeth pulled in preparation for braces. I'd never had a cavity (and didn't until I was 30), so this was my first exposure to a dental procedure. I remember Dr. Cunningham telling me not to look at the needle he was about to use to administer the Novocaine. So I looked up - right into his glasses, which perfectly reflected the GIGANTIC shiny needle that was going into my mouth. And then the tornado sirens went off. Exactly at the moment the needle pierced my gums. I'm sure my eyeballs about popped out of my head. I remember asking them if we shouldn't go somewhere safer, but Dr. Cunningham just proceeded to yank out that tooth, cool as a cucumber.

I don't know when my fear turned into a near obsession with thunderstorms. I get really, really excited when severe storms are forecast and then get really, really pissed off when Ron tells me that they're all moving north and "we won't get anything." He obviously doesn't share my enthusiasm, but he clearly relishes being able to burst my bubble. Tyler and I stand around outside when the sirens are going off, while Ron's down in the basement glued to the weather channel. I'm sure if I'd ever really experienced a tornado up close and personal I wouldn't be as cavalier about it, but I figure if I can survive a tornado warning with a needle in my mouth, I can handle just about anything. Just call me Dorothy. And ixnay the witch comments.