North Star Writers Group

I'm going to share my theory about the growth of certain diseases that have recently gained prominence. I'm no doctor, but I believe that many of these health issues can be traced back to the invention of new technologies in meteorology and, therefore, television weather reporting.

Let's start with obesity.

As I watch the morning news and get dressed for the day, I can't help but wonder - how in the world did my grandparents get ready for school and for work? They didn't have any sort of television, much less a TV weather forecast. Oh wait! I know! They actually had to get out of bed, make that first trip of the day down the stairs, go outside to check the weather and then go back upstairs before getting dressed. That's one-eighth of a mile's worth of exercise. We don't have that today.

Next, Attention Deficit Disorder.

There is no single news topic that is promoted more throughout the day than the upcoming weather report. My favorite show is interrupted with "tune in to see how heavy a jacket you'll need to don tomorrow." Even good commercials are interrupted by the promotion of the night's weather report.

Without the weather, news programs might have to promote the in-depth investigative report they're going to air that night. Or the dialogue on a community issue they're going to initiate, then follow. Who am I kidding? They don't do any of those things on the local news anymore? Weather is all we've got.

Now, about general mental confusion . . .

What could be more confusing than trying to figure out the difference between NexRad, StormTeam 3, Doppler and a Weather Ball? There are real stories out there that need to be covered, but instead, we've got advertising executives spending time trying to figure out the coolest sounding name for weather prediction technology.

The other day, I woke up to Al Roker sharing the weather with me in that morning's feature city, which was Phoenix. Having just woken up, I wondered, where am I? Did someone put me on a plane bound for Arizona while I was sleeping? Why do I need to know the weather in Phoenix? I live in Michigan!

Don't I?

Adding to the confusion - in fact, pushing it to borderline paranoia - is the fact that I can't tell if the weather is coming or going. They talk about it endlessly before it gets here. Then, as if I've been hunkered down in an empty refrigerator box in my basement all day, they cover it after it leaves.

Constant weather reporting also creates short-term memory loss. On the 11:00 nightly news, they report the weather that happened earlier that day, which means that I never have to remember on my own that I spent 20 minutes scraping snow off my car windows in order to drive home from work. I don't have to practice exercising my short-term memory. By the time I turn 50, it will be gone.

I'll never understand why, unless there's been a tornado or some other natural disaster, we can't leave the lame post-weather coverage for that annoying guy by the water cooler.

Finally, I remember how indecisive my favorite cousin was when we were growing up. At Baskin Robbins, they had 31 flavors. We'd go in, and three hours later, she'd finally made her decision.

I can't imagine how indecisive kids must be today, considering every news station in every town has the "school bus weather report," which tells them exactly how to dress every morning. Growing up, my brother and I didn't have the school clothes report, yet somehow we managed to never - not even once - get frostbite on a walk home from school.

Before I manage to link excessive weather reporting to SARS, bird flu and bulimia (and I could do it!), I had better wrap this up. I've got to get back to my TV remote and find a safe haven from weather promos. C-SPAN, here I come!

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