This has been a rather nasty winter, even by our standards. Much colder then usual with heavier amounts of snow. So far this year, we have had 28 days with fresh snowfall for a total of about 62 inches. But that is not my lament. What concerns me is the difference between what the meteorologist said we were going to get and what we really got. I for one am beginning to doubt his veracity. But it does raise the question of why most of us do not believe in fortune tellers yet we believe everything the weatherman tells us? Kind of counter-intuitive wouldn’t you say?
It just seems to me that there should be some recourse for marginal results. After all, they don’t work for the government, so they shouldn’t be exempt from retribution. You know, the old “three strikes and you’re out” deal. I could see it working something like this.
There is a knock on the station managers door. “Sir!! Wiff Whiteout…You wanted to see me?”
“Yes I did Wiff. Please, have a seat”.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it sir?”
“Well actually it isn’t Wiff” the manager replies, turning in his chair and looking out the window. “We’re having a blizzard.”
“Flurries sir. Just like I predicted.”
“Actually, I think you said “a dusting Wiff. Would you call that a dusting?”
“Well, we did get a dusting. You just can’t see it anymore” Wiff says smiling.
The manager stares at Wiff for a minute before saying “Wiff, we have to talk. The station has been getting a lot of complaints from our viewers about your forecasts. They say a lot of the time you are not even close.”
Recoiling with a look of disbelief on his face, Wiff says “you must be kidding. Like when?”
“Like the monsoon Wiff. You forecasted the first monsoon in the history of Maine.”
“Well you have to admit that we did get a lot of water”
“It was frozen Wiff. It’s called snow. Happens every year.”
“So I made one little mistake. So sue me”, chuckle, chuckle.
“A lot of our viewers didn’t think it was quite so funny. Especially the ones that went out and bought boats. They got pretty surly. And how about the comment you made yesterday about “a beautiful day for the beach?”
“Oh that. That was just an observation, not a forecast. But you got me there. Turns out I was looking at a map of Australia. Coulda happened to anyone.”
“Be that as it may Wiff, I’ve got to take some action. This can’t go on. Last week the morning guy was accosted at the airport by an angry mob that beat him with a windsock. Therefore, I’ve decided to send you to camp.”
“Camp? What camp?”
“Camp Doppler Wiff. You need some remedial training.”
“Oh no!! Not Doppler. Isn’t that….
“Yup. On top of Mt Washington.”
“Oh my God, I’ll die up there.”
“No you won’t Wiff, unless you try to go outside. Your days will be busy with training and in the evening, there are board games. I understand Clue is very popular up there. Plus, there is TV, although I understand the picture is kind of ‘snowy’, heh heh.”
“What about my family?”
“They’re not going Wiff”
“I know, but what are they going to do without me around?”
“Well, for one thing, they will probably stop going under an assumed name and the kids can start going back to school without disguises.”
Standing, Wiff walks out the door and down the corridor toward the receptionist. Seeing him, she says, “Oh, Mister Whiteout, I have an envelope here for you.
Slitting the flap of the envelope, he removes a single slip of paper upon which is written “I hope you burn in hell, you sorry sack of slush.”
“I wonder what that’s all about” Wink mused. Turning to the receptionist he said “Do you know who left this?
“No, I don’t” she replied. “But it was the strangest thing. In weather like this, he was pulling a boat.”