Weather

January 20, 2019

I’ve thought about it for quite some time and have come to the conclusion that one of the requirements for being a meteorologist, especially one that appears on the news, is having failed a lie detector test. It’s the only profession I know of outside of politics, where being consistently wrong has no consequences. Politicians can get voted out of office, but until they do, the bubble in which they live insulates them from having to live with the results of the rules under which the rest of us must live. And weathermen (and women) move to the next prediction oblivious to the inaccuracy of their last one.

I’m not being cynical, and not even complaining; just stating the obvious. I suppose they have to be careful. If a major storm rolls through without warning, heads will roll. Better to have overplayed the emergency than to miss it altogether. We were supposed to have been hit with a major storm this weekend. Linda and I were in Toronto with some friends who treated us to a delightful weekend of theater, hotel, and most of all, their company. Curtain time was 2:00 on Saturday, and having watched the forecasts, we decided that since it would be almost dark by the time the show was over, instead of heading home, we would spend an extra night. 

It was cold when we got up this morning, but there was hardly any snow. A friend from the Canada north country asked if Toronto had much snow. “A dusting,” I said, adding, “We Western New Yorkers thumb our noses at such snow!” The roads on the way home were almost devoid of traffic; it was about the best Toronto driving I’ve ever seen! Even back home, we only had maybe a foot of the stuff to push around with tractor and plow, and surprise of surprises, son Matt had already cleared the driveway for us.

I’m thankful the weatherman was wrong. We had a wonderful weekend without the stress of driving home in a blizzard, and the usual Sunday crew to welcome us when we arrived. So, thank you, Chuck and Kelly, for the very special weekend. We loved the musical, but even more, spending the time with you. Thank you, Matt, for plowing the driveway, and girls, for preparing Sunday dinner. And thank you Lord, for a weekend to remember, meteorologically-stress free.