As I listened to the news reports predicting the destructive path of hurricane Ike, I kept asking myself, why won't those people leave? City officials say it's a grim situation. Why won't they leave?
Fast forward to last night. It's 6 p.m. and the tornado sirens are blaring in Kansas City. What are my hubby and I doing? Deciding where to go for dinner. Yes, as in, the tornado sirens are screaming, all you can find on TV are meterologists telling you to take cover, and we're about to drive somewhere to eat. Genius!
Is it fair to be frustrated with the people of Galveston when I was about to embark on my own last supper of sorts? How can I slight them for disregarding government warnings when I was deliberately ignoring the siren designed to protect me?
Even my mom refuses to go to the basement when the tornado sirens sound. And, it's not like her basement is a dungeon. It's finished with a huge flat screen TV and DVD player. Insetad, she insists on remaining on the top floor of her home, near glass and windows, doing what she wants to do.
We used to live in the burbs. And, I swear, nothing started a block party faster than tornado sirens. It went something like this: Severe storm. Greenish sky. Tornado siren. Neighbors outside looking at the sky. Neighbors outside looking at the sky with beers in their hands.
Are we really that different than those who choose to wait out Katrina, Ike or the next big storm?
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