By G. Michael Dobbs
news@thereminder.com
In New England there are two types of New Englanders: those who embrace winter and go skiing, skating and take part in other outdoor sports and then those who endure it – day by day.
I am in the latter group.
I tried skiing once as a fifth grader and can’t say I enjoyed it. My high school and college girl friend bought me skates one Christmas. One trip to a rink that included having five-year-olds literally skating circles around me sent the skates to the back of the closet.
The closest I approached to loving winter was sledding down hills.
This time of year is the part of the year I dread, and the part of the year that I hope whisks by as soon as possible.
It is also the time that I become more obsessed with the weather. How cold is it going to be? Do I have to go to work in the dark and come home in the dark? How much snow is being predicted? Will my idiot neighbors be pushing their snow into the street? Will I be arrested for firing warning shots over their head when they do that? Will the city actually clean up our street at a reasonable time? Will other idiot neighbors actually obey the parking ban?
As you can see I have many issues when it comes to winter.
At the center of many is my heightened winter habit of watching the weather forecasts on television. Weather information is also on my phone and updated constantly on the Web. In a way I question why I even watch the TV forecasters, but I watch local TV news.
I believe what is driving my winter obsessions is that as I grow older, I simply hate to be inconvenienced. I don’t need the hassle posed by winter. Of course I know I play into the stereotype of the geezer who is planning to be some sort of snowbird. That’s not going to happen, as I really don’t want to live in the South where I see the only true advantage is the availability of grits for breakfast in local diners.
Instead I endure with gritted teeth and counting the days as I watch the TV weather forecasts.
Now I understand, after spending the bulk of my life working in the media, that the goal of commercial TV is to attract as many viewers as possible in order to best serve advertisers. I get it. And local competing stations want to have an edge over one another in covering subjects that can lend themselves to hype.
That’s why you have local stations touting the number of forecasters on staff and what kind of radar they use: super live local 3-D radar that can tell you what’s happening on your street in real time!
They have multiple computer models and all sorts of diagnostic devices. They send reporters out in the storms so we can see how bad something is for ourselves, since apparently few of us have windows.
It’s all part of the effort to stress their competency. In reaction I have two words: John Quill.
The venerable meteorologist is a blast from the past. Do you remember him? With his maps printed on sliding glass doors to his thick magic markers that he used to draw the location of fronts, Quill was the first and last word in weather prediction in this area for decades.
And he did it without computers or without radar. Amazingly enough, he did it pretty damn well.
He didn’t try to scare anyone. He didn’t try to crank up the drama. He simply told us what he thought would happen.
Granted Quill operated at a different time with different priorities, but I think sometimes his brand of no frills and no panic broadcasting would be appreciated.
