It's springtime in Texas, and anyone who has spent a length of time in the Lone Star state can tell you what that means.

Allergies. And tornado season.

Storm Chaser? Or Storm-Chased?

If there's one thing I've learned about life, it's that there are two kinds of people in this world. The people who love tornado season, and will gladly brave the whipping winds and sickly green sky because they have absolutely no sense of self preservation.


And on the other hand, you have the people who are normal and have healthy amounts of fear and respect regarding tornado season in Texas. When we hear the sirens go off, we get our butts into the bathroom/closet/basement/shelter/whatever.

Most of us fall under this category. And then you have somebody like my friend Paul.

Paul Does Not Like Tornadoes

I've known Paul since high school.

The first thing you need to know about Paul is that he's a hairy dude. Always has been. Paul sprouted a full beard in our freshman year. He's never been carded for cigarettes. Ever.

This guy looks a lot like him:



Paul is a normal guy. Level-headed, no-nonsense, and a straight shooter. Blue collar, well-worn work boots, has a favorite knife he carries everywhere--the works. He is the quintessential "Texas Panhandle dude", so to speak.

Paul also has a phobia of tornadoes that has morphed into neurosis over the years.

Really, Really Does Not Like Tornadoes

I found this out about Paul one day when we were still in high school. The sky had been thick and green all day and we were holed up at my house playing video games when the tornado sirens went off.

Paul's head snapped up. Then he looked at me with those bright blue crazy eyes and said:

'Naders. I hate them 'naders.

Naders? Oooohhh, TORnadoes. 'Naders. Makes sense.

He got up, ran out to his truck out front, grabbed something from the front seat and made a beeline back inside. I looked at what he had in his hand, it was duct tape.

I was about to ask why he had duct tape when I realized he had pulled out his wallet and pulled several cards out. He slapped the cards (that I could now see were his Social Security card and ID card) on his chubby, hairy upper arm. Then, to my horror, he wound the roll of duct tape around his arm several times.

He had effectively made an armband of duct tape around his bicep with the cards underneath.

Turns Out, It's A Genius Move.....Kind Of

We hunkered down in my hallway bathroom until the storm passed. Afterwards, at his request, I ripped the duct tape off his hairy upper arm so that he could retrieve his ID cards. In between each tug of the duct tape, I could hear his stifled screams as his body hair was ripped out. I took that moment to ask why the hell he did such a thing.

Come to find out, Paul is originally from Oklahoma. Moore, Oklahoma to be exact. He was well aware of what 'naders could do to a person. and any time he would hear the sirens go off, he would duct tape his forms of ID to a body part. Why?

Firstly, your ID is one of the most important things to have in the aftermath of a natural disaster--can't lose it if it's taped to you. So that if he were to be thrown a far distance and be mangled beyond recognition, they would be able to ID him easily once they peeled back the duct tape on his body.

These were things he learned first hand, living through several 'naders in Oklahoma.

Paul Is Still Paul, And Paul Hates 'Naders

I ran into Paul not too long ago. He's married with a few kids. And still very hairy. However, since it's 'nader season, I know exactly why he's got odd missing patches of hair all along his arms.


Some people just really don't like tornado season. For perfectly good reasons.

Remnants of the 1970 Lubbock Tornado


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