Dear Tornadoes and Otherwise Tornado Alley Storms,
You know and I know that this is your home: Tornado alley, which encompasses much of Kansas, Oklahoma, northern Texas and some of Missouri. This is where you’ve been swirling yourself into ropes and wedges, de-barking trees and driving dogs and their owners into cellars and basements.
So what the heck are you doing in Springfield, Mass.? Didn’t we tell you to stay out of neigbhorhoods where people aren’t expecting you? Enough that you were in Alabama and Mississippi, and that you even showed up in New York and New Jersey. I mean, what’s next? Tornadoes in the Rocky Mountains at 14,000 feet? Tornadoes filling the Grand Canyon? Tornadoes in Antarctica?
You know well that people in tornado alley know how to track you, where to go when the sirens go off, and how to generally survive you even if you’ve gone all out and taken up most of the horizon. So why go bother whole cities that have never seen the likes of you, and may not be experts at locating the easiest way to drop underground?
While we’re having this conversation, I just have to say that it was totally out of line for you to go to Joplin. There’s plenty of open space around here where you could have stretched out, gotten comfortable, and although terrorized many a cow and rabbit, generally not ripped up so many people’s lives so thoroughly.
Remember all the room we have for you here, and if you have to be outrageously prolific, aim at least for the in-between places where there are ample basements and enough warning time. Also, stop rain-wrapping yourself invisible, which is totally unfair and actually even unwarranted. I know you have to do what you have to do, and whatever swinging shifts of climate are happening can trigger weather on steroids, but seriously, come home. Just tap together your heels — or the heels of whatever pair of glittery shoes you last picked up — and come back to us. And then please mind your manners.