Kind of off topic (or very off topic), but I have a July birthday and our family never celebrated it in the same place twice because we were always traveling.
One year when I was turning eight, we stopped in the middle of nowhere in OK to have a little party for me. I don't know where it was, but we had made two stops that morning: one at a lonely cemetery where my mom found the grave of some distant relative and she stood there and cried cried (that was the first time I can recall dad taking us boys aside and advising us to "just let mom do her thing for a little while") and another at a grocery store for party supplies. When we stopped for my "party", we cut up the Sara Lee cake that mom had bought and I opened some awesome presents that they picked up a few days earlier at a western shop in New Mexico.
The thing that stands out the most in my mind was just how windy it was. Mom had picked up some of those trick candles that you can't blow out (which was a quirky diversion from mom & dad's typical m.o.) and it was so windy that they never could get the trick candles lit. The trick was on them.
It's a pleasant memory and none of us were instantaneously killed by twisters when we crossed the state lines, so I suppose we cheated death by many accounts.