Sunday, August 26, 2007

I May Be Dead But My Hair looks Fantastic!

Something that always slays me is the way people insist on living in deadly conditions even when they should know better. Like folks who build beachfront houses in known Tsunami zones. Or live astraddle the San Andreas Fault. Or anywhere in Florida, for that matter. (If the Cubano Criminals don't get you the next Tropical Storm will!)

Or, Indiana in one of THESE:

In spite of the negative survival odds when confronted with an F2 or F3 Tornado, thousands of people every year move into trailer parks in Indiana! And then they die. But, hey, it's the mind-set! Never mind that trailers are impossible to heat and exhorbitantly expensive to keep cool in the summer: think Paul Newman in a sweat box in Cool Hand Luke and you've got the general idea.-- Hoosiers love them some Trailer Parks! It's practically a GOAL to retire into one, after giving up housekeeping.

And that's what happened to cousin Spanky Gizelle when faced with the option to buy the adorable 2 bedroom bungaloo style home in a pretty and quiet neighborhood that she'd been renting, or go out and buy a used trailer in a seedy trailer park on the outskirts of town next to a dive motel. She opted for the trailer.

And now, every time I call her, if there is a storm brewing, she is chomping at the bit because she has to evacuate or risk being blown to Kingdom Come. You know, my idea of Safe and Sound is being at HOME; I can't imagine living in a place that is as unsafe as running across 6 lanes of Los Angeles Freeway during rush hour.

Poor Spanky has to be glued to the tv or radio to listen to the storm warning reports: back there in Indiana they tell you what counties the storm is heading for so you have time to grab your survival gear and head for the basement. But of course, Trailers are on Slabs: no basement. So Spanky has to head for the public library or the Big Walmart or even McDonalds. I can't bring myself to tell her those places are not safe in a real tornado, because she really thinks she is saving her own life. Well, maybe she is: A Walmart will survive a 75 mph wind. But a house trailer? Probably not.

This last week when there were huge storms a-brewing all across the land, I happened to call her just as she was getting ready to head for the hills.

"I can't talk long!" She said in a panic, "I've got to get ready to go!" I imagined her scurrying around getting her warm blankets, flashlight and some K-Rations stuffed into a duffel bag. "Just let me run in here a minute and plug in my curling iron!"

After all, a girl's got to look pretty if she's going to die in a Tornado!

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