I have a brother who has a thankless job.
He’s a severe weather warning meteorologist, covering southern Ontario in Canada.
Whenever there is severe weather, be it expected or unexpected, I can find him in the news. He’ll get interviewed and quoted by journalists (most recently, at time of writing, here).
Tornadoes, lightning strikes, blizzards, hurricanes . . . . . for all of them, he’s the face of Environment Canada’s weather forecasting service.
Get the forecast right, and he doesn’t get thanked, he’s just doing his job. Get it wrong . . . . . and he gets it in the neck.
What peeves me about this most recent blizzard event in New England is not that the forecasters got it wrong. They didn’t. They predicted a blizzard, and there was one. It just wasn’t as severe (in New York City, at least) as their mathematical models and scientific judgement predicted.
Driving into the office most mornings lately, I’ve had Diana Krall’s The Girl in the Other Room on the CD player, playing over and over.
The CD was a birthday gift from my wife, not long after we’d heard her perform one Saturday night on Michael Parkinson. (Diana Krall perform, that is. Not my wife.)
I cannot figure out what draws me to it. I can’t quit playing it.
And now for something completely different . . . . . .
The scene: Easy chair. Laptop, steaming java, beside the french doors, looking into the backyard, the odd robin flitting through the hedge. OK, the weather is typically English, damp, overcast, and not warm, but I still like this scene. Can’t help but reflect backwards.
Trying to think about all the hard times and hassles. Not succeeding.
I just can’t remember most of them. And those that I can, just don’t seem so hassle-ish any more. One or two life-changing tragedies, perhaps. And their pain still lingers.
But the hassles and hard times?
Insignificant. Continue reading