Spring, for most people, is a joyous time of the year. The weather is warmer, the sun seems to shine brighter, and everything is blooming.
For me? All I can think of is tornadoes. Twisters. Dorothy and her little dog.
So, the other night, I'm watching this crazy show on these two friends who were storm chasers. Let's just say, should Webster's Dictionary be looking for poster children for the word "geeks"? I was watching them.
I've seen some crazy jobs in my life, but people who chase tornadoes take the cake.
Really. You drive TOWARD the danger, get within 1/4 mile of it, film until you feel "threatened" and then drive like a bat out of Hell, hoping you can outrun it?
Once you are a "safe" distance away? You are so excited you whoop and holler like a bunch of monkeys eyeing the zookeeper as he distributes copious bunches of bananas.
And because the conditions are right for tornadoes to pop up close by? You keep the radio tuned to local news to see where the next storm is brewing. You actually get your jollys when the announcer says "Head for cover". And you drive straight to the place where everyone else is, sensibly, trying to save their hides.
And the pay for this job? UM. Zero. Zilch. Nada.
I've seen some crazy things in my life and this "profession" is right up there with the craziest.
But what's even odder than that is that The National Weather Service sponsors workshops in the Spring to teach people to do this.
I, for one, sleep just fine at night allowing the government to sponsor the gathering of weather data with my tax money. But, the minute the NWS gets sued by a storm chaser who was "trained" by them and, "HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN?", got INJURED? I'm going to march on Washington.
And I won't leave until I have one of those crazy, adrenaline-junkie, lawsuit-instigating idiots in the trunk of my car.
You know where we're going? The flattest part of Iowa, in mid-April, during a thunderstorm.
I'm going to tie that dude up, like a scarecrow on a stick, and wait for the "right" conditions. Then I'm going to drive away, speakers blaring AC/DC, head-banging back and forth like the lead singer of a band named "Bad Ass Mommas". And I'm going to watch the frantic scarecrow panic.*
My intention? To teach a little lesson about taking advantage of the American people by suing over the idiocy of wanting to learn how to commit suicide by chasing wind tunnels. And actually following through with it and being injured. AS IF THAT KIND OF CRAZY SHOULD SOMEHOW BE COVERED BY MY TAX MONEY.
Somehow, I don't think my little charade would cure him of the storm chasing. He'd survive (somehow these guys always do) and he'd be back on his proverbial horse next time the clouds gathered, wringing his hands, wondering "Which way do I go? Which way do I go?"
But, hey. Stupid is as stupid does. All I can do is continue to point out the lunacy, hope like heck these guys develop brain cells, and be on the lookout for rogue, lawsuit happy, tornado-chasing people.
Happy Tornado Season, everyone!
*In case you have a short-term memory problem like moi, remember that I'm deathly afraid of this kind of weather. I would be acting this way because, frankly, I'd be beyond cranked up on something to calm my nerves.
No comments:
Post a Comment