Storms in the South

It's been a while so I figured it was time for an update. I'm headed aboard the Pineapple Express in a couple of days to attend the James Franco Wedding-Palooza. It will be spectacular, and I hope to have crazy stories to share with you all. Until that time, I have a different story for you. It by no means has anything to do with what is occurring in my life at the time. It literally just popped into my head, and I felt it was amusing enough to share with the masses.

We're going back to the spring of 1998. I was a swastika-omitting, sequin-showing, tap-dancing German soldier in a ballet version of The Sound of Music. Yes, it is as awful as it sounds. Anyway, it was closing weekend, and a few of us volunteered to help take the set apart. I did not personally volunteer, but Mom and Dad had, and I was not one of Rebecca Black's too-young-to-operate-a-moving-vehicle-but-I-am-anyway friends so I had the pleasure of helping. Yay.

Dad and I were outside. I don't remember exactly why we were outside so I'll just say we were loading up the truck or whatever vehicle we had. It was drizzling a little bit, and the sky was rapidly turning more and more ominous. All of a sudden, Dad got a page. For those of you who do not know what a page is (though I'm sure most reading this blog do), before cell phones we had these handy dandy devices called beepers. Here's how they work. Someone wants to get in touch with you, so he (or she!) will send you a page. Your beeper goes off with some sort of message. What does that mean? It means "Get to a pay phone right now!" What's a pay phone? Never mind.

Back in 1998, pay phones were still easily accessible, and there happened to be one on the school patio. So Dad called my grandfather while I stood idly by wondering what was so important. I quickly found out.

Out in the distance, I saw for the first and only time in my life, a funnel cloud. My first thought was "Awesome!" but then I started to freak out. Mind you, even when I freak out I still sound like Eeyore if he were to say, "Dad, we need to get inside right now!" Fortunately, Dad saw the funnel cloud too, and we rushed inside.

Inside, the backstage crew was packing up the last of the boxes, the ballet mistress was crossing off her checklist, and my sister and her ballerina friends who also had the privilege to stay while their parents cleaned up were playing tag in the audience. That was the scene when Dad and I burst through the auditorium doors. Everyone was quickly informed of the looming tornado. The little girls started screaming while the adults tried to calm them, but we all wanted to know one thing: Where do we go?!

You know in the movies when everyone knows they're about to die, but one person pops up out of nowhere with some infinite wisdom? That's what happened here. All of a sudden, there was a janitor in the wings, and all he said was, "There's a basement." Of course there is. Just like there's a basement in the Alamo. Why didn't we think of that?

So the janitor led us the children sprinted down the hallway while the janitor shouted directions. We were all screaming, but I could still hear the wind howling outside. I felt like the walls were going to collapse on top us, and all I could think was, "Great. I'm going to die in a high school before I'm even in high school." After the 5K to East Jesus Nowhere, we found the staircase to the basement. Since a tornado was about to send us to Oz, we dashed down, not even thinking there may be a serial killer with knives for hands waiting to... Wait. We were under 12 years old. We had no idea who Freddy Krueger was. Moving on.

When you think of a basement to a school, you think more like a boiler room. This was the exact opposite. It was an extension of the school, with more classrooms and lockers, but it was safe because it was underground! The adults and Random Janitor Man soon joined us. There was a door down one hallway, which we steered clear of, but I clearly remember the wind still howling and the rain swirling in circles. It was probably the most terrifying moment of my life. Then, just like that, the storm vanished. The sun came out. The sky turned blue. The birds were singing awayyy. It was like nothing had ever happened. Welcome to storms in the South.