Tornado Outbreak.

The forecast hereby and forthwith checks in live from the airport in 37214, where we are alternately under tornado warnings and tornado watches, and where next to me in the Waiting Lounge are two first-responders, waiting to get shipped to somewhere to coordinate disaster response. Right now it looks like Mississippi, where, Toto, you should absolutely be hunkered down if you are not yet. And elsewhere across the mid-south: go inside. Or know where you would go if you needed to. We had rainfall here in Nashville like I hadn't seen in a while -- had to be a two- or three-inch-per-hour rate. Flooded the interstate. Flooded the surface streets. The rented Hyundai came through all that fine. Out in the ether, the CNNers anchoring the weekend panic desk seem pretty serious. The Weather Channelers seem pretty serious. This is at the very least a maybe-stack-up-your-lawn-chairs-and-bring-them-inside kind of storm. It might be something bigger than that. The one first responder dude, though he and his friend are both in street clothes, is on the phone with someone he's calling sir and referring to as 'General.'

So. Maybe an airport beer. Then a flight through all this mess. And what's here is not even the mess. The mess is what's coming. The mess is what's back in Mississippi and Alabama. Basements, please, mid-southers. Interior rooms. Hang on. Good luck.