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Prediction: You Will Get Very Wet
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Published: August 19, 2008
Thank Gawd we have our Doppler whatchamacallit thingy out there Dopplerizing day and night to let us know that, in the end, nobody has any clue where Tropical Storm/Hurricane/Big Gust of Meteorological Flatulence will eventually land.
There, don't you feel better now? What? Still nervous?
But that's OK, because as a backup we have the Double Doppler gizmo, which gathers twice as nice while it Dopplers away to nail down the Cone of Befuddlement over the path of Fay, which, of course, no one can predict.
Not to worry. Despite the shortcomings of the Doppler gadget and its successor, the Double Doppler Whiz Bang, there is VIPIR, which can not only predict the weather, but can also determine within a margin of error of 75 percent (one way or the other) that Fay will indeed make landfall somewhere within the continental United States.
And, to narrow that down even more, one can always turn to the so-called spaghetti models, which closely resemble Phil Spector's hair and offer upward of 450 possible routes Fay might take.
Wet Index Fingers
Meanwhile, legions of employees of the National Hurricane Center, drawing upon decades of combined experience in such matters, labor intently over their computers, windmills, thermometers and moistened index fingers thrust into the air to craft a detailed forecast concluding your guess of Fay's whereabouts is as good as their's.
And, just to make sure the Cone of Confusion remains impenetrable, into the heavens flies the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, which will report back that Fay is a big, fat, juicy storm that could go anywhere. But who knows for sure?
All this hurricane drama is a godsend for radio and television, which allows each station's crack weather team to take to the airwaves to comfort tense viewers that, when it comes to not knowing where Fay will land, their gaggle of forecasters is more adept at not knowing stuff and knowing why they don't know it.
Could you possibly be more reassured?
Happiest Floridian
Aside from generator salesmen and Key West bar owners, perhaps the happiest man in the state is Florida Gov. Charlie Crist.
For the dirty little secret of public service is: All governors love even the merest hint of impending doom.
Jeb Bush was in his element during hurricane season, taking time out from posing for holy pictures to appear at the "command center," to show off by speaking Spanish.
Charlie Crist, too, can find a respite from his budget woes to appear in the "command center" looking like he is - well, in command.
The golf shirt is a nice touch, as well.
A hurricane affords a governor that unique opportunity for the public to see him doing a part of his job that doesn't involve smiling, shaking hands with people and signing pieces of paper.
It's a great photo-op, the sight of the governor huddled together with his closest advisers and emergency preparedness experts as they earnestly study the latest data on Fay's direction.
And what are they saying among themselves?
You probably don't want to know.
Keyword: Book of Ruth, to read and comment on Daniel Ruth's blog.
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