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Worzel's World: How about the weather?

 

I like to keep an eye on the weather. It’s handy to know which way the wind blows and if a hard rain is gonna fall. I am not qualified though. I don’t call my-self an expert or a pro-fessional. I have though been rained on a lot but still feel fine. Some say I have a sunny disposi-tion and a dry sense of humour, but they’re not experts either. I still oc-casionally listen to the weather forecast, just to get the meteorolo–gist of it. It should come with a disclaimer saying ‘for entertainment purposes only’. I listen anyway.

The weatherman said it was sunshine and everything was fine. I went out forgetting my mother’s advice to al-ways take a jacket, only to find that there were dark clouds everywhere and rain falling down. I disregarded them. After all, the weather man is a professional, I’ve seen him on the telly. Pretty impressive with maps and circles and expert weatherman words like ‘occluded’ with cyclones and their arch enemy anticyclones. I’ve been accused of being ‘anti’ a lot of things so I reckon I must be anticyclone too. Who but the driest farm-er would vote for a cyclone? After all we must believe the science and the weatherman knows his highs and lows, espe-cially when he gets back to fronts.

The weatherman said it was sunny with long dry spells. I wondered which witch had cast that spell. So my wet hair and clothes, the muddy ground, the dripping leaves were very unscien-tific indeed. They obvi-ously hadn’t watched the weather man. I though am Homo sapien, a man of wisdom, and I believe the science. Yes, I feel cold and wet and I can see the rain, but they must be an illusion be-cause I am not an expert and I believe the science.Later the weatherman said it was raining but I couldn’t see a cloud in the sky. I wore my jacket and took my umbrella anyway, just so everyone would know that I am smart and I believe the science.

I have a local farmer mate in Maungy. He encouraged me to return to my former satirical ways. I hope he is satisfied with the above. He and another in Kaiwaka have lived their entire lives in the district. If I really need an indication of what the weather will be doing I give them a ring. If neither answer they’re probably out on the farm and it’s a safe bet she’ll be fine. They have no weather satellites or com-puter modelling but have a better strike rate than the MetService. They don’t believe the science. They make up their own minds because their livelihoods are affected if they get it wrong. 

I well remember the weather forecast prior to the catastrophic floods we had over a decade ago: ‘Occasional showers, some heavy’. No one was prepared for the deluge that washed out roads and brought down slips that blocked highways. A couple of years later, in sensational fashion, a ‘weather bomb’ was forecast for Northland. It sounded dire. Is a ‘weather bomb’ of greater or lesser magnitude than a hurricane or typhoon? When would it explode?

I received a text mes-sage from my sister who watches the weather forecast and is a believer. She has made a vocation of worrying. She warned me to batten down the hatches. She thinks that living in the bush far from suburban city life is a harsher, more danger-ous situation than living in a concrete jungle rat race. She is mistaken. The reverse is true, and the rats are much more laid back round here. The weather bomb was a fizzer. There were some clouds and a few showers.

The weather fore-cast is often wrong but interestingly no one ever suggests censoring the MetService. I have forecast much, usually more to do with the social and political climate. Some has come to pass already, much is yet to come, but the far sighted can see it looming on the horizon, which, unless you’re a Flat Earther, means it’s pretty close. My track re-cord, I am pleased to say, is better than the MetSer-vice, the news agencies and most especially the politicians. Yet Microsoft locked me out of my email account and much of my work is censored. So much for the long held democratic tradition of free speech. 

The argument against freedom of speech is one which goes ‘It is dangerous to yell fire in a crowded theatre when there is no fire’. Certain-ly, I would concede the truth of this, but there are instances of fires in theatres when no one yelled ‘fire’ soon enough to avoid catastrophe whenever there is actually a fire in a theatre at its small beginnings, and even the largest of conflagrations have but small beginnings. There are very few patrons who no-tice the kindling flames. The majority are too captivated by the show. In the case of the current onset of a global confla-gration, any of us who smell a little smoke and who may discuss even the possibility of a fire are gagged by the ushers and manhandled out of the theatre. I will take no pleasure in standing in the street and watching those inside burn.

Feedback? Email profworzel@gmail.com

The weather forecast is often wrong but interestingly no one ever suggests censoring the MetService.

 
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