Maundy Thursday
To quote The One Called Elizabeth Taylor, "I've Been through it all, Baby. I'm Mother Courage." i.e.: Caught asthma, subjected to torturous claw removal against my will, ran away from home and subsequently lost a leg, got adopted by a coupla yahoos. Tonight, however, we can add "survived a tornado that trashed a whole city" to my roster. Cause I did.
It was 7pm and TOCE was outside watching the beginnings of what looked like a great twilight T-storm, thinking, "Thanks Jeebus I live in Iowa where nature is so damn Little House on the Prairie purty." No really, T-storms here are great. If I weren't terrified of them and the outdoors, I would've been right out there with her. So the wind kicks up and she decides to go inside and watch the OC, when it is preempted by an Iowa newsman saying (in a thick accent) "If you are in Eye-uuh-wuuh Siiteee, Go too yer saaafe plaaace noow!" Several tornado "cells" (what the hey?) were to the north, south and east of town. A tornado swarm, if you will. The TV showed, instead of The One Called Adam Brody, a radar of her town lit bright red. So she grabbed me, the laptop (thanks for wireless), a blanket and her cellphone and threw us all into the bathtub.
There we sat and there I howled for, like an hour, where it sounded like someone had re-routed the train tracks to go straight over our house. TOCE passed the time by biting her nails between hitting "refresh" on the little doppler radar icon; I howled like a banshee until the loud noise outside stopped, completely. Then I crawled into her lap like a zombie, which freaked her out. That's when the storm came. After it passed (and I re-commenced howling) we stayed in there for a long time, playing solitaire and waiting for the Other One to call. He was working in The Place Called Downtown, where the storm really touched down, and spent much time in the basement with the waiters, chefs, and patrons. Apparently, the restaurant is fairly f'ed up. So he's off work tomorrow. Maybe forever.
And TOCE couldn't go pick him up, cause of all the police and trees and minicans and stuff clogging the roads, so he had to walk home. He told her the wreckage is pretty severe. Their favorite never-surrender dive bar is gone; it's roof is now on top of a Starbucks. Ironical, no?
Yeah. So that happened. I think I will snuggle extra close to TOCE tonight, as she hopes very much that all her friends are safe and not awakening to a large pile of personal booshit. That is the last nice thing I will do/ say for 1,000 years.
Note to TOCE: Welcome to the Alley. Get renter's insurance. And don't ever make me sit in a bathtub again!
It was 7pm and TOCE was outside watching the beginnings of what looked like a great twilight T-storm, thinking, "Thanks Jeebus I live in Iowa where nature is so damn Little House on the Prairie purty." No really, T-storms here are great. If I weren't terrified of them and the outdoors, I would've been right out there with her. So the wind kicks up and she decides to go inside and watch the OC, when it is preempted by an Iowa newsman saying (in a thick accent) "If you are in Eye-uuh-wuuh Siiteee, Go too yer saaafe plaaace noow!" Several tornado "cells" (what the hey?) were to the north, south and east of town. A tornado swarm, if you will. The TV showed, instead of The One Called Adam Brody, a radar of her town lit bright red. So she grabbed me, the laptop (thanks for wireless), a blanket and her cellphone and threw us all into the bathtub.
There we sat and there I howled for, like an hour, where it sounded like someone had re-routed the train tracks to go straight over our house. TOCE passed the time by biting her nails between hitting "refresh" on the little doppler radar icon; I howled like a banshee until the loud noise outside stopped, completely. Then I crawled into her lap like a zombie, which freaked her out. That's when the storm came. After it passed (and I re-commenced howling) we stayed in there for a long time, playing solitaire and waiting for the Other One to call. He was working in The Place Called Downtown, where the storm really touched down, and spent much time in the basement with the waiters, chefs, and patrons. Apparently, the restaurant is fairly f'ed up. So he's off work tomorrow. Maybe forever.
And TOCE couldn't go pick him up, cause of all the police and trees and minicans and stuff clogging the roads, so he had to walk home. He told her the wreckage is pretty severe. Their favorite never-surrender dive bar is gone; it's roof is now on top of a Starbucks. Ironical, no?
Yeah. So that happened. I think I will snuggle extra close to TOCE tonight, as she hopes very much that all her friends are safe and not awakening to a large pile of personal booshit. That is the last nice thing I will do/ say for 1,000 years.
Note to TOCE: Welcome to the Alley. Get renter's insurance. And don't ever make me sit in a bathtub again!
posted by Charlene at 11:59 PM
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