Emotional Weather Report

We have a friend, Mark, who works for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. He is a for-real weather man, not the kind that just tells you the weather on TV. According to him, forcasting the weather is largely statistics. He is a scientist, and he is dispassionate about the whole thing. We, on the other hand, are not scientists, and to us the weather can be cruel and has the power wreck a picnic or wreak havoc on our emotional well-being. Like, right now.

It is hard to suppress the urge to call Mark and complain about the weather. Or to see if he might know when this dreadful pattern will end. I remember one really steamy August, the summer Joe and I got married, we asked him, "For cryin' out loud, when is it gonna cool off??" He replied, cooly, "Sometime around mid-September." Thanks.

Joe called him yesterday to complain about the rain, and here is a transcript of the message we came home to on the answering machine:

"The weather report:
Today... rain.
Tonight... rain.
Tomorrow... rain.
Tomorrow night... rain, with a chance of thunder storms.
The day after tomorrow... rain
The night of the day after tomorrow... rain, heavy at times.

Thank you."
(hang up)

I'm going to kick his ass the next time I see him.

Tom Waits wrote a great song called, "Emotional Weather Report" Here are the lyrics, which I think you should read:

late night and early morning low clouds

with a chance of fog

chance of showers into the afternoon

with variable high cloudiness

and gusty winds, gusty winds

at times around the corner of

Sunset and Alvorado

things are tough all over

when the thunder storms start

increasing over the southeast

and south central portions

of my apartment, I get upset

and a line of thunderstorms was

developing in the early morning

ahead of a slow moving coldfront

cold blooded

with tornado watches issued shortly

before noon Sunday, for the areas

including, the western region

of my mental health

and the northern portions of my

ability to deal rationally with my

disconcerted precarious emotional

situation, it's cold out there

colder than a ticket taker's smile

at the Ivar Theatre, on a Saturday night

flash flood watches covered the

southern portion of my disposition

there was no severe weather well

into the afternoon, except for a lone gust of

wind in the bedroom

in a high pressure zone, covering the eastern

portion of a small suburban community

with a 103 and millibar high pressure zone

and a weak pressure ridge extending from

my eyes down to my cheeks cause since

you left me baby

and put the vice grips on my mental health

well the extended outlook for an

indefinite period of time until you

come back to me baby is high tonight

low tomorrow, and precipitation is

expected