Here in the Midwest, it is nothing unusual for the sirens to go off, indicating possible tornadic activity. Of course, we have our monthly checking of the sirens on the first Wednesday of every month at 11 AM. I'll never forget the day I was in a Target when the sirens went off, and a woman I didn't know from Eve came up to me, looking panic stricken. I thought perhaps that her young child had gone missing in the store. It was in the days not so very long after 9/11:
"There are sirens going off. What's going on?" 
Sensing her obvious terror, I resisted all of the knee-jerk smart-alec responses that come to a chick like me's mind. (As an aside, when you are the 4th of 4 children in a Catholic family with a dad from the East Coast, you have to have a touch for sarcasm just to survive...just to barely keep your head above water.) Moving on...I replied solicitously:
"Oh, yes. Those are the test sirens. They test them on the first Wednesday of each month at 11 AM. It's just a precautionary measure for cities here in the Midwest. Just to make sure everything is running smoothly for when we really need them now that storm season is here."
We chatted for a moment then, and her fears were relieved. No biggie.
So, tonight my family is in the basement, bearing down in an actual tornado warning. Because we live closer in to the city, not on the outskirts, we probably get about two to three tornado warnings per year, but our neighborhood has never seen a tornado actually "touch down" (at least that I can recall, and I've lived here a long time).
Because of our lack of actual tornadic activity (tornadoes touching down on the ground in my immediate vicinity), I must admit to a certain lack of true fear of destruction. Don't get me wrong. If there is a tornado warning, we go to the basement. Period. We are not storm chasers (like my brother-in-law and his son...!). However, we wind up having fun and kinda' making fun of the announcers on TV. A sampling of the comments from the broadcasters this evening.
"Until just about 5 seconds ago, we had sirens going like crazy out there..."
"I can hear the sirens."
"There's a great. big. blob. out there."
"Go to your safe place." (Is that like your happy place?)
"I can't hear sirens."
"The sky is definitely gray." (ooh, ahhh)
"And now a darker gray..." (wow...)
"Can you hear the sirens where you are now?"
"I can hear the sirens in the distance."
"Rush hour is going on." (ya' don't say...)
"I see cars passing me, trying to get home. It's definitely getting darker now." (uh, yeah...it does that.)
And of course, our parody of said forecast:
Big Strong Man: "I thought a gray blob warning was the worst thing possible."
Girl 2: (in a deep, affected voice) On the east side, I see a TV, pictured with I-435 at Roe Avenue. My dog is on my lap. There's a sign on the wall that says, "Make up with your Sister". (smirks...) Occasionally, when we mute you guys on the TV, I can actually hear the rain and even the sirens. (getting louder and more insisten...) I can hear them now. (pausing...) There are definitely sirens going off now. Wait. Now I hear them, but they're growing fainter. Now back to you, Gary.
I know. We're going to burn. We're very bad.
It looks like we've been given the all-clear to go upstairs. I repeat. The all-clear. The sky is clearing. The gray blob is gone. We are emerging from the basement, and all is well.
Back to you, Cyberspace.
Balanced Babe
