Blow away, Mr. Meteorology

I spent way too much time last week watching coverage of hurricane Irma on the Weather Channel. Eventually I found myself rooting for the storm.

I’m not heartless. I felt compassion for the folks in Irma’s path. I got fed up with the weathermen.

In order to show viewers how fierce the wind was, the Weather Channel’s meteorologists would stand, unsupported, in the worst of the gales. Bent over and fighting to maintain balance, they’d relate, breathlessly, what they were experiencing.

Maybe it was the drought and wildfire smoke we’ve had to put up with all summer, but it simply struck me as grandstanding. Perhaps I was just jealous of all that rain.

A hurricane is certainly more visually interesting than a drought. I doubt Jim Cantore has any interest in standing for months at a time in 90-degree heat watching the grass die.

Instead, wearing a helmet and a flak jacket, he braved the storm to tell us how difficult it was to stand. I kept watch, waiting for an extra-strong gust to blow him off his pins, or a sheet of stray plywood to flatten him.

It was like watching NASCAR, anticipating a crash.

But it wasn’t just the possibility of a weatherman getting his comeuppance on air that held my interest. My wife and I had camped and fished in a lot of places in the storm’s path.

Irma made its second landfall near Chokoloskee, a fishing village at the end of the road on the west coast of Florida. Most of the houses there are on stilts for good reason. It’s a small place so the larger, better heeled community of Marco Island next door got all the news coverage.

Marco was devastated. Chokoloskee probably was too, but it would be much harder to tell, the place always looked a little ragged.

The storm also swept through Pine Island Sound where we used to fish, and hit Tampa Bay after weakening a bit.

Barb and I spent a lot of time camped on a key at the mouth of the bay, a beautiful spot, but vulnerable to the weather. I remember holding down a corner of our tent one night when it started to blow away during a storm of little significance. I can’t imagine what the wind must have been like there during the hurricane.

Irma blew through Florida in a couple of days. The drought and fires that have plagued Montana all summer still persist.

At least we don’t have to put up with grandstanding meteorologists.

Parker Heinlein is [email protected].