Strangely enough, a tornado touched down in South San Francisco on Sunday morning. It was fairly weak and there were no injuries, but it got me to thinking. Back in the days in Wisconsin I was (rightly or wrongly) terrified of tornados. Every spring when there was a severe thunderstorm I’d watch the TV, alert for tornado watches and their dread brother, the tornado warning. I was vaguely aware that Lake Michigan protected us from all but the most bizarre storms, but still I cowered during tornado warnings two counties away. Sunday, however, upon telling Erin in passing that there was a tornado some 40 miles away she responded, “What?! Should we be in a basement or something?” I realzed that it hadn’t even crossed my mind. I laughed it off, in fact. I figure it has something to do both with the fact that there are never tornados here along with my maturity and realization that, while I should be scared if a tornado is bearing down on me, those things generally don’t happen.