Weather talk . . .
I am not a meteorologist by profession, but I pay much attention to what they have to say, be it on radio, television, newspaper, or, now, the Internet. However, anyone who has lived in the New England area of the USA (consisting of six states, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire) will understand my frustrations with meteorologists because it is hard to understand in relation to weather. They speak in their own language, their forecasts are often wrong, and they frequently land us in trouble! However, I can never be mad at themrather I am fascinated by their craft.
The reason I empathize with the meteorologists, or the weatherman as we sometimes call them, is that I share one professional trait with them, i.e., the ability and the inclination to make forecasts. In that very treacherous game, we have to be very cautious, since we are likely to be wrong and are often so. My fellow economists, who make predictions about the national unemployment rate or other big numbers such as national debt, know that we are off the mark more often than not. The weather forecasters are also in the same tricky business of forecasting; however, allow me to point out that their track record is often worse than ours. How many times have we in the Boston area battened down for a major storm only to find out that that the storm never materialized? In such instances, the meteorologists, instead of apologizing for being wrong, often put a positive spin on their misjudgment and congratulate us, as well as each other, on "dodging the bullet".
Don't get me wrong. I can understand that forecasting is a very complicated process and when the weatherman goes before the public, he has to exercise extreme caution in his choice of words and has to describe the scenario in a guarded fashion. And that is precisely the reason why weather forecasting can be considered to be a work of art. On the one hand, the forecaster has to communicate clearly about the weather. On the other hand, a forecaster is trained to be up front about the uncertainty of the forecast and convey to the average public the inherent flaws in its predictions. Or in other words, the task is to admit, "I could be wrong", but not quite in so many words. That makes the job of the forecaster very tricky.
It is in this context that I admire their use of colourful words and their vocabulary of uncertainty. If things were not so complicated or unpredictable, a meteorologist's profession would be fun and easy. For example, they could simply say, "It will rain", and say it boldly. However, as any meteorologist working in New England knows, the forecast might be proven wrong within a minute of its announcement since there are many factors that affect weather conditions and which can't be predicted. Wind conditions, cloud formation, ocean currents, to name just a few. How do you tell the population to be prepared for bad weather conditions but also warn that things might change on a dime and that's no reason to get upset with the weatherman? But who listens, since I, like my fellow New Englanders, like to target the messenger rather than the message?
Here is an example of what I am talking about. In a recent forecast, "the clipped voice clearly announced that we should expect sleet, rain or freezing rain, snow and/or partly sunny conditions." If this is not a case of overkill, I don't know what is! I searched the Internet for more examples, and found the following on a blog:
The funniest weather forecast I heard was on radio once. The announcer was reading the forecast, it called for partly cloudy in the 30's, he then said, "I just looked out the window and since it's snowing, we can throw this one away"
Well I rest my case. When I am driving, I am mostly tuned to the National Public Radio (NPR) station, a news station. NPR news broadcasts provide updates on the weather every few minutes. If you ask me at any point in time about the latest weather for the Boston area, I will never be able to say truthfully, "I don't know". Even when I am at work hunched over the computer, I will once in a while stop what I am doing and go to my favourite sites, on-line newspapers, or AOL, Yahoo, or Comcast, and the Local Weather Link is at the top of each page giving me the latest temperature, humidity and outlook in my town. By now I am a savvy consumer of weather reports, but I still struggle when it comes to getting a good picture of the weather. This is mostly because they have a very rich vocabulary which I often find tough to map. For example, when they say it will be a nice day with some late showers, I wonder if I should take along my umbrella if I am going out in the afternoon. I have been caught surprised many times, particularly in winter, when the forecaster would predict a very sunny day, but the fine print which I ignored said that the wind chill factor was 15.
In their defense, I will say that New England weather is temperamental, to say the least. On any given day, the temperature might vary by 25 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit and admittedly, it is beyond anyone's control. If you start out from home with a light coat on, at 60 degrees, and then the temperature drops to 30 within a few hours while you are out, it would not be surprising to find yourself shivering even in the heaviest jacket. And only God can save you if the wind chill factor got worse within the same time frame.
I came from a warm climate where we only used one word to describe the weather forecast: gorom or brishti hobey. In Boston, even the (wo)man on the street has a colorful vocabulary to describe the weather outlook. Some of the words I have heard my co-workers use to describe various types of cloudy outlook are: drizzle, shower, downpour, sprinkle, soaking, pouring and misty. I still can't tell the difference, though.
Another word I hear very often, whether in fall, winter or spring, is "nippy". Nippy is a roundabout way of indicating cold, but also expresses one's surprise, uncomfortableness, or displeasure with the temperature outside. Choice of word also depends on the age of the person. What might be cool to a person who is young may be nippy to an older person.
The other factor is pride. If you grew up in New England, you don't want to admit that the weather is unlivable. Even I, a naturalized New Englander, have taken to obfuscation and prevarication when talking about the weather. My brother lives in Toronto, and I have asked him to move to "warmer Boston". I do not know if he believes me or not. But he understands, since denial is the best way to overcome your bad weather blues. If it snows, enjoy the flakes. If it rains, write a poem about it. Or even better, sing with Tagore as he does in,
Ashar Shonddha Ghoniyey Elo
Gelo Re Din Boyey,
Badhon hara Brishti Dhara
Porchey Roye Roye
Monsoon's shroud of dusk closes in,
as the day floweth by,
And the unrelenting shimmer of rain,
pours in intermittent cascades.
Gelo Re Din Boyey,
Badhon hara Brishti Dhara
Porchey Roye Roye
Monsoon's shroud of dusk closes in,
as the day floweth by,
And the unrelenting shimmer of rain,
pours in intermittent cascades.
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