Tropical Storm Alberto was due to hit the Florida coast yesterday, and it dominated our local weather forecast. We’re close enough here in Western North Carolina, that Storms in the Gulf of Mexico can effect our weather. Some places near here are still cleaning up from hurricanes in September, 2004.
The morning weatherman on our local channel is not a meteorologist. He’s a man about my age who has lived in these mountains all his life and has been a local TV personality forever.
His primary job at the station is to do outdoor reports every Friday at the end of the 6 o’clock newscast, and they are quite interesting. He hikes to area waterfalls, goes fly fishing in local streams and highlights the region’s natural beauty.
Yesterday morning however, he fucked up! He showed the weather map that featured the entire southeast, with that big, red storm symbol floating near Florida’s west coast. He must have been thinking about lunch at his favorite Italian restaurant, because when he began talking about the storm, he hesitated.
“Tropical Storm…uh…Alfredo is moving toward Florida this morning,” he stammered. He continued with the forecast as if nothing had happened, but we knew that he knew what he had done. He never corrected his mistake, or even mentioned it again.
This morning when he talked about Alberto crossing Florida, he simply referred to it as “that tropical storm.”
Way to go Bob.
Later,
obi
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