I remember two years ago about this time. I was headed to Vermont to meet up with friends, Stern, Duglush, Louiedog, Sharebear, and Firma in an effort to see the last Phish concert ever. During this time, a hurricane named Charlie was heading up the Gulf Coast and the local and national media made damn sure that we all knew it was headed for Tampa, which it never hit. Forty-five minutes after my flight left, Tampa airport was closed. The storm hit land two hours later, approximately two hundred miles south of Tampa International Airport.
The general consensus of Floridians everywhere was, “Nice call assholes. Thanks for ruining our weekend.” I mean, schools were closed, airports were closed, European tourists were forced to evacuate their hotels so they could head to airports that couldn't fly them anywhere (side note: I had never seen such a group of pissed off Europeans in my life. It was like a UN meeting sponsored by Fight Club. British, Swedish, French, you name it… they were all pissed. Had I missed my flight, it wouldn't have been very funny, but well, I made my flight so I smile just thinking about them Euros cussing out Florida in a cavalcade of language). People, basically, were being seriously inconvenienced because of weather predictions. Not actual weather, mind you, but the current predictions. I still find something inherently wrong with that. Maybe it's just me.
Anyway, fast forward two years. I've been trying to avoid Tropcal Storm Ernesto hype for the last five days (I think). Today, I fielded a call from my buddy Humbug across the state. He made two great points. First, if a forty-five mile an hour storm (Tropical Storm Ernesto's current speed) were barreling across Kansas right now, it would not be news. And second, if you're a member of the news media and you're spending your time hyping up a tropical storm and just generally causing panic and you don't feel like a major cretin, you should be drawn, quartered and banished to the nearest hell.
Tropical Storm Ernesto is coming and I hear there's no gas left in Miami. Here's my prediction (because I am not a weather man?and yes, I feel the fact that I am not a weather man is the best reason for you to believe me on this): Ernesto may get to winds of fifty or sixty miles an hour?enough to cause damage, surely, but nothing to really be afraid of. Take it from me. I'm not a weatherman.
I didn't think it was possible, but we as a culture have over-hyped weather. I just don't care any more. Weather has become the Bill Parcells/Terrell Owens of that part of the news that doesn't show sports. I have no idea why I can't take it seriously anymore, but I will tell you how I gauge a disaster in my immediate area. If my power is actually off for longer than the media hyped up the hurricane, it's a serious one.
“And” I say as I pull out a golf club, “you can take that from me. After all, I'm not a weatherman.”
That horse is so fucking dead.