(And I’ve lived in plenty of grumble-worthy places over the years.) But here’s a little-known fact: In high school I belonged to the weather forecasting club. For one year. Not so much because I cared much about the weather (though in Duluth everybody cared about it a little), but because the faculty advisor was the algebra teacher and basketball coach, and therefore a cool guy.
Back then, in the middle of the 20th, weather forecasting was not as good as it is today. Just by predicting today’s weather for tomorrow, consistently, one could almost always run up a better record than the guy on TV. That’s about all I learned. I never did figure out how to read a weather map although I still think they’re fun to look at.
Snow, however, is not fun to look at. It just lies there turning the world into black and white. (Except for the red house out my kitchen window, next door.)
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