After all that, she still met him for lunch. Believe me. This explains a lot.

The wind is howling outside this evening. I love it!

I had an adventure with wind before I was born. Actually, my mom had this adventure, if you want to get technical and literal and such. I just happened to be inside of her at the time. My sister Lois was two. Dad, a law student at SMU, had invited my mom and sister (and me, too, I guess) to meet him for lunch. Mom and Lois got into the old black and white chevy and took off.

Being particularly observant, Mom noticed a couple of things. First, the sky was a nasty shade of green. Second, there were no other vehicles on the road. She decided to turn on the car radio.

“That’s right, Bob. We’re following the tornado, and it’s moving in a path straight down Harry Hines Blvd.”

Harry Hines! I’m driving on Harry Hines, thought Mom. She looked at the road in the distance. And there it was.

It looks like it’s standing still, she thought, as she continued to drive toward the huge, black funnel cloud. But tornados don’t stand still. I must be driving right behind it.

Or toward it.

Suddenly debris began to rain down on her car. Even Mom could not ignore the significance of her situation now.

Meanwhile, Dad was standing at the window of a building on the SMU campus, watching the sky. He’d tried to call Mom to tell her not to come, but no one had answered the phone. Surely she knows better than to drive in this weather. Surely she’s not on her way, he thought. But the thought failed to convince him. He knew her.

As small boards and other trash pelted the car, Mom turned off the road into the nearest parking lot and screeched to a stop near a building. Dirt, paper, indiscernable chunks of who-knows-what blew against the windows and banged on the roof, hood, and doors. Did you know that old chevy sedans were built like tanks? That may be why I’m here to tell this story.

After what seemed an eternity, the tornado passed by. The sky stopped vomiting, and the nausea-colored hues faded back to a healthy blue. The danger was over. Mom suddenly felt a tremendous hot flash and rush of adrenaline, so violent she feared for my safety. They’d survived the tornado. She wasn’t sure her unborn child would survive her body’s reaction to it.

But hey. I’m normal. Sure, I have the occasional odd tic. And lightning bolts shoot out of my finger tips at random (and sometimes awkward) moments. But that happens to everyone, right?

I love the howling of the wind. I think it’s calling to me tonight. The wild, mysterious song of the wind. It’s mine by birthright, you know.