After 2,000 Years, It's Still a Classic

Is it me, or does every state have the same collection of terrible jokes about the weather?

To my knowledge, none of them are humorous, funny, or remotely hysterical. In fact, they all make me want to cry out of sheer lameness.

But even worse than the poorly-delivered weather joke, is the all-out Weather Special on your local news station. 

Y'all, I have no idea what demographic watches those, other than the Other Local Newses, who then make their own exponentially dull specials to "compete."

In Chicago, there used to be one special in particular called "It Sounded Like a Freight Train." Clearly, that is a documentary on the tornado and it's loudness.

Riveting!

And I'm not kidding, I bet it was on a couple of times each week. Who says there is no quality programming at the local level?!

Since I have adequately mocked all serious and educated Weather Persons, I will now become the object of my ridicule.

Ahem:

After a heat-induced trip to Costco for $1.35 ice cream, we walked outside, and sensing the water rushing over our ankles, noted it had rained.

But look what God left for us:

After we drove around a little and headed home, that beauty was still in the sky. 

Come with me to stage right: Do you see all of the nothingness?! That is right by our house and one of my favorite running paths. Because of all The Nothing. Except some times there are horses and cows/bison/buffalo (not sure which) and I love to look at them. And if I had not been hanging out the window pursuing journalistic excellence (YET AGAIN!) and had been facing the exact opposite direction, you would've seen a smallish mountain range affectionately called "The Rockies."

Even though weather-talk generally doesn't bristle the hair on my spine, there is something about a full, lasting, exquisite rainbow that stirs the soul.

The above photo was taken from the house. Not sure if you can tell, but did you notice how the end of the rainbow is just resting on someone's home? Oh, to be that girl.

One reason that I have a tough time with weather is that I don't enjoy many variations on the theme of Hot, Sunny, and Dry. 

I'll take the 100 degree days anytime over the sub-arctic, bone-chilling, 50's and 60's. 

And yes, I am totally a wimp.

Another bummer about weather is that it causes me to look stupid.

About sixish years ago, when we had recently moved to Denver and were busy begging the grocery clerk to be our friend, Brad and I joined a dinner group.

Gathered around the table for our first meeting, we chatted away about a variety of light topics.

For some reason (which I will never know), I decided to bring out my highly opinionated diatribe against the nightly weather segment on the news.

Warning: This gets ugly.

Nicole: "Seriously. Does anyone actually care about high pressure, low pressure, or barometers? There is no way anyone watching the news is sitting on the edge of their chair wondering if the blue arrows will point up or down as they swoop across the country.

All people want (I imagine my voice was getting louder) is a five-day forecast. 

Give me the highs and the lows, people. Highs and lows. What could possibly be so fascinating to dedicate an entire five-minute segment to the weather?!"

Rest of Table: (polite fake laughter)

Nicole: "So "Ron," what do you do?"

"Ron": I'm a meteorologist. I studied at {Prestigious Large School} and it is my passion."

Nicole: "Well, see you all later!"

Luckily, "Ron" has a great sense of humor and laughed it off. Despite the first impression, we became friends chased storms together.

Oh, I jest. (About the storms. We did, in fact, become friends.)

But Brad and I are still happily married and I'm positive I embarrassed him to death.

(Which is a theme in our marriage.)

Alrighty, here's one last look at the rainbow for the road.

I got out my telephoto lens for this one.

Or pushed on the zoom button until the camera nearly broke. 

Whatever.