You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Another Snow Day in Nashville.
Batten down the hatches America, it could be a stormy night.
Breaking News: The weather people are predicting an inch of snow or sleet or something wet and cold.
An inch?
Whose afraid of an inch?
A circus Midget’s concubine?
I don’t even know what that means.
When I think inch, unless it’s a layer of plutonium on fire, I think disappointment.
But in Nashville, an inch is reason to hold extra news meetings and call people in on their day off and demand that the satellite truck be gassed up and ready to roll on a news director’s whim.
an inch is a reason to bother the TDOT spokespeople incessantly. “Hey where are your brine trucks gonna be?”
An inch is a reason to call the department of public works and ask if their trucks have their snow shovels sharpened and their salt piles stacked.
An inch?
So the weather prediction team stews the pot.
I am sitting on the other side of the newsroom, but the words are coming through loud and clear.
“Well, it could be 1 inch in our southern counties, to 3 or 4 inches to the north up around the Kentucky border.”
“Or it could fizzle completely like a Jeb Bush campaign rally and blow right by us,” someone else at the table says.
And there it is in a nutshell.
Weather predicting is as precise as orca juggling.
We like to tell you what the forecast will be 7 days into the future, but sometimes, we cannot even tell you what’s happening right now in front of our face.
I’ve watched weather people walk to the back loading dock, and stare up at the sky, like some indian shaman praying to the great weather spirit.
“Oh great weather spirit. Please tell me if it will rain or snow. Will the sun rise in the morning?”
It’s kind of sad.
So many people thinking they’re Nostradamus, when they are really Simon and Garfunkel minus the Simon and only half the Garfunkel.
Again, I don’t know what the hell this means.
Remember the old days. I like the old days.
No weather radar. No doppler, no storm tracking, no panic.
You simply woke up and dealt with the day that God tossed at you.
A yawn, a stretch, a sneak peek out the window.
“Hey that’s snow on the ground. I guess I better wear my fur thong today.”
And so it went.
Now it’s a kaleidoscope of wrong.
There are too many weather cooks burning the broth on their smart apps and special weather cut ins.
Follow us on-line, on air, on our app.
Or don’t.
Either way, an inch is going to spoil your day.
Surely an inch is no reason to panic, yet.
WRONG.
I pitch a couple of hard news stories.
GONG.
“No. You are going to Kroger and do a story on the myth that more people buy milk when it snows.”
HA.
That’s me laughing out loud.
No way that was a real story suggestion, I think to myself.
I look around the table and quickly see that the news director is serious as a dairy cow misspelling CHIKEN.
“You OK with that?” he says.
“Sure. Milk Myth. I’m all about it.”
I go to the Kroger store and set up by the milk cooler.
The next thing I know I’m laughing with old ladies buying gallons of milk.
Some say they just like milk.
“I’m not afraid of an inch of snow,” one blue hair tells me.
“I’ve already got 3 gallons at home,” a mother says. “I am here to buy a 4th just in case. I don’t want to drive on the roads.”
This mom is definitely afraid of an inch.
Just in case a dreaded inch pops up tomorrow morning, a fun-loving character from Kentucky tells me he is prepared.
“I got stuck in a snow storm once,” he says. “I didn’t have milk or beer. That will never happen again,” he says referencing the beer and milk in his cart.
“And I have bologna too,” he smiles.
That dreaded inch.
An inch is cause for alarm on a southern city street or any bedroom USA.
An inch. One lousy inch.
Will it be a holocaust of white?
Will schools cancel and commuters be forced to slide to work?
It’s the inch that can change your Wednesday.
I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow an inch onto your interstates, Old Man Winter laughs.
Get your snow plows ready america.
That dreaded inch is threatening to ruin your morning.
Life’s Crazy™