Jim Cantore, You’re Giving Us a Tropical Depression

To: Jim Cantore 

The Weather Channel 

Dear Jim, 

Enough already! Storms are a serious subject and we appreciate your public service, but to be blunt, we don’t want you in our town! Whenever you show up, an “ill wind-blowing no-good” can’t be far behind. You and these hurricanes (or, as some folks around here say, hurr-a-kins) are giving us a tropical depression. 

I’ll grant that your broadcasts are informative. I’ve learned a ton or perhaps a torrent of meteorological terms: spaghetti models, Bermuda highs, wind shear, eye walls, steering factors, feeder bands, wind fields, landfalls, and the Saffir-Simpson hurricane wind scale (Cat. 1 to 5, or degrees of bad kitty, I guess) to name a few. 

I’m starting to discern the difference between a thunderstorm, a tempest, and a tornado and now know these can be as God-awful as a good old-fashioned gale or a giant gully washer.  

Yet, may I make a suggestion? You surely have sway with the brass over there at The Weather Channel. Unless you get your squalls off doing it, I, for one, don’t think it is necessary to stand out in the worst of the storm and report that the wind is blowing like crazy. “You wouldn’t believe what this feels like blowing up my pants legs…. Whoa... back to you in the studio.” We get it. Yet, you and your climatic cohorts do it over and over. It must be written somewhere in the weather broadcasters’ manual: In case of a hurricane, be sure to have a guy in a poncho stand out in the driving wind, trying to stay vertical, doing a bad imitation of the electric slide, and holding a live microphone in the downpour. 

Further, do you think the severity of storms might, in some way, be related to the names given them? Dorian was dangerous; Matthew was mean; and Hugo was horrible. Perhaps the wizards at the World Meteorological Organization might consider some more tranquil, softer names for the next hurricane season. May I suggest: Anemic, Bland, Creampuff, Dulcet, Effete, Fizzle, Genteel, Halcyon, Insipid, Jell-O, Kindly, Limp, Meek, Nada, Oasis, Placid, Quell, Refrain, Serene, Tiny, Unruffled, Vapid, Wimp, X-cellent, Yellowbelly, and Zilch. 

But my immediate concerns are my Aunt Toogie and my lovely wife, Grace. After hours of watching you on television, Toogie takes on a pattern you will recognize. It begins as a mild disturbance. Then, as we progress deeper into the hurricane alphabet, her intensity strengthens and she starts to pace in a counterclockwise movement, around the kitchen island. As she picks up more energy, the speed and breadth of her rotation increase to potentially catastrophic levels. 

All this causes Grace to call for alternating actions: lawn furniture inside, lawn furniture outside; shutters closed, shutters open; fill the tub, empty the tub; buy water and bread, buy more water and bread. This is something neither you nor I want to get in the path of, Jim. Since you started it, you need to calm it down!