I’m writing late because I haven’t in a while, and this has been in my brain, and I had to write it down.

The first Wednesday of every month, they test the tornado sirens here. This month, the first Wednesday was the first day of the month.

I started to wonder who reports if the tornado sirens don’t work? I asked a friend, and he said, “We do?”

Which is putting a lot of faith in the general public because I don’t know about anyone else, but I always forget until I hear them. So if they weren’t to go off on that first Wednesday, I wouldn’t even know they weren’t working.

So I asked my friend, “You don’t think there is a guy that drives around and is like, ‘yeah, I hear them ‘?”

My friend wasn’t sure. I also asked Dan, and he said there is probably someone from the city who drives around and makes sure they hear the tornado sirens.

Over the past few weeks, this character has built up in my mind. So here goes.

It’s a guy who wears a pork pie hat, a plaid short-sleeved, button-down shirt, tweed pants with a white nylon belt, and cowboy boots.

He parks his car in the middle of Cheryl, by Windmill Park, stands outside his car with the door open, has a cigar hanging out of his mouth with one of those ancient radios with the long antenna that he barks into, ‘Sirens at Cheryl blaring.’ He also has one of those metal garbage can lids in his other hand, but I don’t really know why.

Maybe to fight off cats or dogs or something?

Anyway, there he is on the first Wednesday of every month. I will faint right where I stand if I ever find out this is true.

Ok well, that is done. Everyone, go to bed.