And when two super scary commutes — one an aborted mission to work on a road turned skating rink, the other a trip home through a surprise snowstorm that had me abandoning our pick-up truck halfway up Queen Anne Hill — had me vowing to never drive to the office during winter again, my boss introduced me to the “Forecast Discussion.”
Because while other forecasts will give you the main points of rain, sun or snow, the Forecast Discussion is a detailed dive into the next 24 hours of weather written by meteorologists who are not only experts in weather, but experts in your local weather.
And I never drove in Seattle again without reading it, since I wanted to know exactly when the temperatures were expected to go above and below freezing, so I could time my drives properly to avoid the worst of the road hazards.
Years later back in California, I gained even more appreciation for the Forecast Discussion when I started talking to the people behind it in my work as a reporter.
Tasked one day with writing a story about an expected deluge of rain that would likely bring flooding, I was told to call the weather service our newspaper paid for.
After dialing the 1-800 number to put in my request, I waited at least an half an hour for someone from across the country to call me and basically read me the sentence the service prepared for our area. No matter how many questions I asked in an attempt to get more information that might be useful to our readers, the person would only parrot back what I already had.
So I turned to the list of helpful numbers prepared for the newsroom by previous reporters, which luckily included a number for the local office of the National Weather Service in Humboldt County described as the “press line.”
And that call finally got me to person who could tell me what I needed: Helpful details about my local weather, a meteorologist who knew what had happened in the past under current conditions, thereby providing helpful insight into the forecast for my newspaper’s readers, all this expertise provided free as part of the National Weather Service.
I was hooked, and never called the corporate line again. Why call someone across the country who couldn't even pronounce the city I was calling from, when I could talk to a person who was looking at (almost) the same sky I was, since the clouds above them might soon move south above me in Mendocino County.
Though mostly friendly, sometimes the NWS staff were hesitant, and some did not want to give their names for fear of harassment (yes, even 15 years ago!), but all gave important and useful information to me and all others wanting to know what to expect from the sky.
And I get it, really smart people can make you feel dumb, just like the kid in class who always knew the answers to the teacher's questions was was always raising their hand. And sometimes they use really big words like “anomalous” when “unusual” would do just fine.
But I like knowing there are smart people in charge, silently and competently watching models and data to let me know if its safe to drive, but also whether a flood, tornado or lightning storm is likely to destroy my home, or half my town.
As climate scientist Daniel Swain wrote, “NOAA Research costs every American citizen less than a cup of coffee a year, with large returns on this small investment. This is a prime example of effective government, one that helps grow the economy and keeps people safe.”
And yes, paying too much attention to weather data can make you feel like the planet is collapsing before our eyes. But when given the choice between truth or happiness, I will take the truth every time. Because without it, I can’t be happy.
Why I started driving with a raccoon: The snow made me so anxious that I needed more than detailed forecasts to help me keep driving in Seattle, so I put a stuffed animal named Nancy next to me.
