The sirens went off Thursday; did you notice? I was outside, and wondered if my old deaf dog would hear them. For years it's been like a communication from the Great Wolf God in the sky; he'd point his snout at heaven and howl along, and sometimes I'd join him. That earned me an odd look: This is a dog thing, OK?
But this time he didn't stir. Neither did I. Probably a test. If this were a real emergency, your DNA would somehow have sensed it, and told you to turn the radio dial to WCCO and hear someone excitedly describing how debris is down in Woodbury, Repeat, we have debris down in Woodbury, or There's rotational activity over Chaska.
That's the problem with the sirens: As my dog would say, sometimes they cry wolf. We become accustomed to hearing them at a specific time, and discount them.
But not everyone's up to speed: A few years ago I had a cable installer drilling holes in the wall when the sirens went off, and he became seriously unnerved. His phone rang; he said, I don't know, honey. I don't know if it's Al-Qaida.
Turns out he and his wife had just moved here. I told him it was a test, and he relaxed, then got irritated: Wouldn't you want to save that siren for some real weather?
Here's an idea: Since we already have loudspeakers, why not forget the wailing and just have someone tell us where the Death Vortex has appeared? Get someone with a commanding voice to take the mike and shout, LISTEN UP. THERE'S A TWISTER CAPABLE OF THROWING COWS TO IOWA. IT'S IN ST. LOUIS PARK AND IT'S HEADING TOWARD DOWNTOWN. And when it's over they could play "Dawn" by Edvard Grieg or "Ding Dong, the Witch Is Dead" over the loudspeakers as a signal that it's safe.
The dogs would wonder where the Great Wolf God went, but it would take more than that to shake their faith.
jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858 • More daily at startribune.com/blogs/lileks
