I have terrible luck with weather.
It’s the one aspect of news that always seems to have a positive spin you can put on it. For one thing, the medium makes it more playful. Weather reporters and meterologists get to deliver their segments in front of green screens, and a green screen + halloween season is a perfect recipe for shenanigans.
For another, there’s a veritable cornucopia of words out there for describing outdoor conditions. “Torrential downpour” becomes “atmospheric river.” “Murderous biting cold” becomes “unseasonably cool.” “Literally on fire” becomes “extended bikini season.”
But I see through it all. I have terrible luck with weather, I tells ya. Especially in how it interferes with astronomy.
For instance, while the rest of you (all of you, it seems, judging by social media) were taking in Aurora Borealis, I dashed outside, camera ready, and the only dancing lights I saw were a pair of ecstasy-laced ravers holding a shockingly polite headphone party in the nearby parking lot. Charming in its own way, but I still had some serious FOMO.
This happens to me a lot. A major celestial event will unfold, a literal once-in-a-lifetime mystical ballet of heavenly bodies. A total solar eclipse. A centuries-orbit comet. The Barenaked Ladies reuniting. Things that will NEVER EVER HAPPEN AGAIN (sorry).
And I always seem to miss them, because even though I am a mega geek with his own goddamn telescope and a regular follower of Bill Nye the Rapidly Aging and Increasingly Shouty Guy, I am denied these pleasures by a persistent cloud cover that seems to follow me everywhere.
Honestly, it’s so frequent that the clouds roll out over me during an astronomical miracle that I’d almost think my life was actually The Truman Show. Except there’s no way anyone would find a TV show about my life interesting and there’s way too much masturbation in it to ever allow syndication.
Nope, I’m just danged unlucky, that’s all. So I do tend to get a little surly when we’re engulfed in another “atmospheric river” and the skies take on the colour of Bela Lugosi on his worst day.
On the other hand, I should perhaps begin to see this as my own personal superpower. I could put out forest fires. I could bring bounty to drought-ridden crops.
Just fly me out to the crisis spots, provided the Transit of Venus is happening or somesuch, point a telescope up at the sky, and tell me to look through it.
That’s bound to bring the long grey.
And there shall be much rejoicing at another “atmospheric river.”
Successfully created by Ford.
I Forded the River.
Was this whole piece just an excuse to get to that pun?
Whether or not, I hope you enjoyed it.
Welcome to Ford on Fridays: a weekly column where Victoria Buzz staff writer Tim Ford offers his thoughts on life, love, and the pursuit of the perfect joke.
This column is for comedic purposes only. Please feel free to send feedback, thoughts, and [constructive] criticisms to firstname.lastname@example.org.