They say a recession is when your neighbor loses his job, and a depression is when you lose yours. Natural disasters seem to work the same way, eliciting empathy in proportion to their proximity.
Maybe it’s seeing your own city’s name in the corner of the screen, while the weatherman points to a map where a red mass is rubbing against a green mass. And that rubbing and the nine-point-five on the BTI (what’s a BTI?) means tornadoes. And the whole thing is moving toward that corner of the screen at…60 miles an hour. And that corner of the screen is…60 miles away. And that means it’s here in…60 minutes. Or will it turn?
Maybe it’s those other city names on the screen, some you’ve seen on a city limits sign, some you’ve seen on an interstate sign, some that sound so far-fetched (there’s a Margaret in Alabama? I mean, a place named Margaret?) they might not appear on any signs. Some have stronger associations in your mind, like the guys from Euharlee and Taylorsville who