The Photo Lab: Building community, one print at a time

Long before our phones could instantly show us every photograph we take, we had to develop the film inside our camera before seeing what images we captured.

And while many of us just dropped off that mystery mix of magic and mistakes somewhere that could churn out both negatives and prints in about an hour, my father always took his film rolls to a local photo lab for more personalized service.

That was cool.

Because I loved going to the photo lab with my father when I was a kid. I can still hear the bell ring on the door, smell the chemicals in the air and feel the anticipation as we waited for someone to emerge from the back for my favorite part: Pulling out the magnifying tool for our first glimpse of the negatives.

Because as much as I loved just looking at my father’s photographs, I loved even more getting to see how they were brought to life, feeling very adult as I soaked in every step of the process from deciding which frames to print and how to make them look their best. 

And though the exchanges at the photo lab were technically business transactions, with my father trying to make a living as a professional photographer and the lab tech performing a job, their interactions always felt less about money and more about art to me: Two craftspeople working together to make the best product possible, each knowing that they couldn’t do their best work without the other. 

And I felt a bit of that artistic camaraderie again recently when a photo lab in San Francisco started printing a magazine. Yes, in this day of social media posts that last maybe seconds, this lab decided to post permanent photographs in the form of an actual printed magazine.

“We wanted to make a magazine to foster more connection in the community we’ve built with so many photographers over the many years Photoworks has been around," said Rhonda Smith, explaining that she and her co-workers were “definitely inspired by Pamplemousse, a magazine founded by a former Photoworks employee.”

Each time Photoworks has asked people to submit photos for these guest magazines, Smith, who served as senior editor, curator and interviewer for the lab’s third magazine, said “we have gotten a couple hundred submissions, with the second edition receiving nearly 500 submissions.”

When asked how many copies they print, she said that number is based on how many photographers are featured in each magazine “and the amount we could realistically sell and be able to break even on production costs. Also as those of us who work on the magazine are also doing our every day tasks in the store, it can take longer than we plan to finish it, but we do hope to have two annually.”

You can certainly argue that such an endeavor is far from altruistic, likely ultimately launched as another way to make money; but everyone with a photograph featured in the magazine was offered a free copy, allowing each person to see their artwork published in a high-quality product full of beautiful and interesting photographs, which is an exhilarating experience no matter how, or how many times, it happens.

And having a print product feels almost revolutionary in today's world, where we keep getting more connected than ever in all the ways that don't matter, while feeling less and less connected in all the ways that do matter: those tangible, tactile ways of meeting face-to-face, shaking hands, and even sharing a drink or a meal together.

Which is exactly what happened when the magazine was celebrated with a launch party, a gathering of real people in real time instead of in a digital post that people scroll past and forget even before the next post appears. And standing there by a counter to pick up my magazine with the smell of chemicals in the air, surrounded by photographs and photographers, reminded me of how I first fell in love with taking pictures: Going to the photo lab with my father.*

That was super cool.

*My father's birthday was this month, so I would like to wish the man who always encouraged me to both form and express my own opinions on everything a very happy birthday, and to thank him for introducing me to the wonderful world of photography. 

Another photographer whose love for the art form was inspired by his father is my friend Nathan, who will forever love traveling and taking pictures because of the road trips his father took him on after they finally met.

Movies I saw in January: Send Help, Anora, Blink Twice

I didn’t see many movies in January, but those I did watch packed a surprisingly satisfying punch; all three featured women defying the control of others to carve new paths for their lives, with most carving those paths straight through their captors with very sharp knives. 

That was cool.

And while my favorite movie of the trio features a woman realizing that the VIP club she desperately wants to join is just a gilded cage, my favorite character was a woman suddenly released from her cage of conformity and quickly realizing her true talents lie in plotting revenge, not playing nice.

January’s movies:

1. Anora (On DVD rented from library, 1/10/2026) Grade: A

Last year I was disappointed that Demi Moore didn’t win an Oscar for her work in “The Substance,” but after finally seeing “Anora,” I full embrace the Best Actress win by Mikey Madison. Not only did I believe every moment of her portrayal, I would have given her the statue just for the screaming fit she throws to keep two men from containing her, as their response to her full-bodied revolt created one of the funniest scenes I have ever watched.

And that comedy came at just the right time, for I was about to give up on this movie that lifts bits of plot and dialog from “Pretty Woman,” but little else from that fairytale. Because while the 1990 movie was essentially a rom-com/Cinderella story with just a side of sex work ordered from the kids menu, “Anora” has our main character’s body being rented by a man with far more realistic demands than Richard Gere’s too-driven-to-date businessman.

The resulting debauchery and disrespect inflicted on our heroine in this movie almost had me turning it off, but I am very glad I stuck with this slow-burning love story, which I not only found more realistic, but far more satisfying, than the nearly squeaky clean “Pretty Woman.”

2. Blink Twice (On DVD rented from the library, 1/17/2026) Grade: B+

I’ll admit it, I picked “Blink Twice” off the shelves because Channing Tatum was on the DVD cover. And knowing really nothing else about this movie, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it despite Tatum playing almost a bit part.

To avoid giving away too much of the plot, I’ll just describe “Blink Twice” as a nice mix of Fantasy Island and Get Out (and did I detect a dash of that creepy movie in which director Zoe Kravitz’s mom starred called Angel Heart?) that delivered an impressively edited feast of sounds, music and visuals that kept my attention far more competently than “Him,” which failed to create even a fraction of the “what the heck is happening?!” ambiance this movie deftly maintains throughout.

3. Send Help (In the theater, 1/31/2026) Grade: C

The best thing about this movie was Rachel McAdams, which was another surprise because I’d never quite warmed to her before. But here she exudes the perfect mix of cheerful-yet-creepy as a ridiculed outcast who suddenly gains power and popularity when civilization collapses around her. The only actress I’ve seen doing that role better these days is Christina Ricci in “Yellowjackets.”

But overall, the movie felt like a mediocre mix of the two great movies “Cast Away” and “Misery,” since it pales in comparison to both. My favorite parts of “Cast Away” are watching Tom Hanks opening packages, learning to fish and build a fire, but this movie decides not to show us much of how Linda adapts to the island she is dropped on, preferring instead to linger on her punishing her former boss. 

Yet unlike “Misery,” when it came time for any actual torture, “Send Help” shies away from Linda physically maiming her boss unlike Kathy Bates’ Annie does to her captive, instead deciding to linger far too long on our two main characters squabbling with decidedly uninteresting chemistry, and mysteriously having the most violent scene not even featuring a human victim. 

As someone who can definitely identify with Linda's inability to adapt to “polite society,” I wanted this movie to get far more detailed and depraved that it dared, and wish a director like David Fincher had been hired to relish in showing us exactly how Linda realizes her full potential.

Movies I saw in December: Anaconda, Song Sung Blue.

Finally, here are the movies my grandmother saw in January of 1996:

Thursday, Jan. 4

Up 6:30, tea, breakfast McDonald’s.

Debbie and I to show, “The City of Lost Children.” French, very weird!

Sunday, Jan. 7

Thought to have haircut, he not there. Home, watered houseplants.

To “Toy Story.” Good.

Tuesday, Jan. 9

Breakfast Carl’s Jr., walked mall, Lilly passed test at DMV.

To show, “Waiting to Exhale.” Stupid, I thought.

Thursday, Jan. 11

Longs, Xerox gone. Wrote Mina, to Kinkos to copy Stimson's letter.

To deli, got sandwich. To show, “12 Monkeys.” Brad Pitt is paranoid, good acting.

Saturday, Jan. 13

Played La Boheme, some TV.

Watched “All the Mornings of the World.” French. Lovely color!

Monday, Jan. 15

To show, “Tom and Huck.” Better than I thought.

Ate Wendy’s, brought home salad.

Friday, Jan. 19

To show, “Sense and Sensibility.”

Post office, mailed pictures to Justine. 

Home to find letter from Justine, no email luck. She taking International Communications.

Saturday, Jan. 20, 1996

To mall, post office, library, returned two books + records. Read Newsweek.

To show, “From Dusk til Dawn.” Special effects!

Monday, Jan. 22, 1996

To show, “Dead Man Walking.” Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon. Good.

Mail: letter from Mina, $103.88 from Colonial Penn.

Friday, Jan. 26, 1996

To show, “12 Monkeys,” second time. Understood better, not completely.

Kmart Scotts Valley, got more chicken.

The woman in the river: How I met my new role models for life after 50

How to stay forever young? Swim in the wild!

One of my favorite places to visit is the beach at Big River in Mendocino County. Not just because its beautiful and full of wildlife, but because I always seem to find something a bit magical every time I walk its sandy shore.

Like one foggy morning when horses were trotting on the sand. Or another morning when I met the person I want to be in old age: A woman well into her 80s who swims in that water every chance she gets.

“You do this every day?” I asked her as she treaded water in that beautiful spot, made even more beautiful by the ripples of light in the waves she was creating.

She paused, likely deciding whether or not to even respond to this stranger interrupting her meditative exercise, then finally answered me with a simple: “Try to.”

That was cool.

Because I’ve thought about her ever since, this woman fully embracing life, not content to waste her last years letting her body decay in a recliner while watching television like another woman I knew on the edge of 80.

So the next time I was at Big River, I was drawn back down to the shore, hoping she might be there again. And though she wasn’t swimming in the river that day because it was wintertime and the water too cold, while searching for her again I found something even cooler: A whole group of women who swim there every day!

A member of the Big River Swim Team poses near the team's decal.

Members of the Big River Swim Team, they are a group of friends in their 50, 60s and 70s, who don wetsuits to brave the cold beauty of Big River for their daily swim.

“Why do you do this?” I asked them, though of course I knew why: exercise, companionship, accomplishment, and nature. All things that make you feel better, all things included in one  daily swim at Big River.

And of course those cool women knew the first swimmer I met, but told me she didn’t swim in the river past November.

“I want to be her,” I told Eileen, 64, who was drying off after swimming nearly two miles in the river.

“You can!” she said immediately.

That was super cool.

See more of Big River and its swimmers here:

Movies I saw in December: Anaconda, Fatman, Song Sung Blue

Why go to the theater anymore? Because it's fun!

My favorite movie I saw in December was also my favorite Christmas present this year, since it gifted me 90-plus minutes of hanging out with three of my favorite people: Jack Black, Paul Rudd, and a beloved family member.

Yes, the first two were technically only present on the movie screen, and yes, my companion and I didn't have to go to the theater to watch those actors together, but we did need a break from our menfolk. 

So I respectfully disagree with a recent column by Mick LaSalle, a film critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, in which he couldn't come up with a reason for anyone to see a movie at just a standard multiplex playing new releases anymore. Because we had two very good reasons to go to the movies that day: First, to escape our spouses and enjoy some belly laughs together, and second, to hear those laughs magnified by all the people around us. That was very cool.

The movies I saw in December were:

1. Anaconda (12/26/2025, in the theater) Grade: A

This movie was everything I wanted, an impressive feat given how excited I was after first seeing the trailer: Jack Black? Good! Paul Rudd? Good! Goofy reboot of Anaconda? Super good!

And unlike the disappointing sequel to The Accountant that also had me super excited after its trailer (more on The Accountant 2 here), this movie delivered, being both fun and relevant for people my age, with just enough silliness on top to entertain any kids (and grandkids!) we brought along.

2. Fatman (12/20/2025, Netflix) Grade: B

This movie was a slow burn, one best savored by super fans of Walton Goggins and Mel Gibson who are not expecting typical holiday fare, as this was a most a-typical Christmas movie with a most a-typical Santa.

And while I certainly appreciated every scene with Mr. Goggins, I could have enjoyed much more time with grumpy Gibson driving around in his Ford pick-up with a bottle of milk balancing on the dashboard and plate of cookies next to him on the seat, especially since an older Ford F-150 is just about my favorite vehicle to watch, either on screen or in real life.

3. Song Sung Blue (12/28/2025, in the theater) Grade: C-

It breaks my heart a little to give this movie a poor grade, because Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson were delightful as low-rent lounge singers who find success as a Neil Diamond tribute band, and I could have happily watched many more scenes of them learning to harmonize, arguing over which song to start their concerts with, and how much time and effort they were going to spend getting his hair just right.

But much like the recent Bruce Springsteen biopic (more on “Deliver me from Nowhere” here), this movie spent way too much time off-stage wallowing in the sad parts of the story instead of giving the audience what it really wants: to sing some fun songs with some fun, good-looking people who also happen to be pretty good singers.

And much like Jackman’s Lightning refusing to start concerts with the fan favorite “Sweet Caroline,” it felt like this movie just didn’t want to give the audience what it wanted. Proven by my theater’s response to the credits, which was crickets: How could you possibly have more than two hours of Hugh Jackman, Kate Hudson and super-catchy Neil Diamond songs and not have people at least clapping afterward, let alone cheering?

I think most people, including me, would have enjoyed this movie much more if it left out many of the tragic twists and turns of the true story it was based on, letting its perfectly cast stars shine as the charismatic and talented real people they were portraying, while letting audiences seek out the rest of the story on the documentary that served as its source material.

I also wish Jackman had asked James Mangold, who directed him in "Logan," to take the helm, since Mangold proved twice, first in "Walk the Line" and next in "A Complete Unknown," that he can make meaningful-yet-enjoyable movies about imperfect musicians that neither skirt nor dwell on the bad bits.

Now, at last, the movies my grandmother saw in December of 1998:

Thursday, Dec. 3:

Ate KFC, pot pie.

To Show, “Bug’s Life.”

Home 4:30 p.m., worked on taxes.

Thursday, Dec. 10:

To McDonald’s for coffee.

Looked for pants at Penney’s, Gottschalks. Some Vanderbilts and Lees.

To show, “Home Fries.” Drew Barrymore, Luke Wilson? About “country” folks!

Friday, Dec. 18:

To post office, mailed 7 cards.

Longs, returned video.

To show, “Prince of Egypt.” Good.

Saturday, Dec. 19:

Coffee and donut on Ocean Avenue.

To show, “Gods and Monsters.” Ian McKellan, wonderful film.

Newspapers sold out in many places, found 3 left at Drug Emporium. 

Thursday, Dec. 24:

Justine here 3:30 p.m. Drove to see lights.

To show, “Gods and Monsters.” She had pizza.

Home 9:30. Some TV.

Tuesday, Dec. 29:

Wakened by quakes, 4:38. Back to sleep after moving lamps and gorilla.

To show after donut/coffee. “Shakespeare in Love.” Great.

Very cold. Vacuumed furnace. 

More of grandma's days in December of 1998 here.

Advice for 2026: That crazy quest no one else gets? Just do it!

Me and Lulu sticking out our tongues.

The best thing I did in 2025 was also the craziest: Driving several hours just to see a big wooden troll.

And while I still don’t know exactly why I felt compelled to see Lulu, the first Thomas Dambo troll to be installed indoors at the California Nature Art Museum in Solvang, I do know that meeting her sparked an obsession that soon had me driving across two states to see six more trolls in the Pacific Northwest.

That was cool.

Because after seeing Lulu, I started researching the other Dambo trolls I could drive to, and soon found myself visiting an old friend in Washington State who lived near five of his sculptures.

And though I hadn’t seen Patty in 10 years, she still dropped everything to not only offer me a place to stay, but to spend a full day driving us around (and across!) the Puget Sound so we could fulfill my dream of seeing all five of the Thomas Dambo trolls near Seattle in one day.

“That’s why we’re friends,” Patty said. “We both like doing crazy stuff like this.”

And after eight hours of searching that included two ferry rides, when we reached the fifth troll on Bainbridge Island and completed a mission we were told halfway through was “impossible,” I was high as a kite.

“We saw all five today, this is our last one!” I exclaimed proudly to a woman who just happened to be visiting the same troll with her young daughter.

“Wow,” she said flatly. “That's a lot of driving.”

At first confused by her response, I soon realized that she probably just wanted me to go away because I was not only a stranger, but a super strange stranger who was super excited about some super crazy quest that just sounded like a super big waste of time and gas.

So if you don’t want to find yourself on some super crazy quest like me, whatever you do in 2026, don’t go see Lulu.

Or on second thought, maybe do.

Because if I hadn’t gone down to see Lulu, I wouldn’t have climbed Valencia Peak in Los Osos and met my new favorite picnic table. (More on that here.)

And then I wouldn’t have completed my “impossible" quest with Patty, a great travel companion who I am already planning another grand adventure with for 2026. And though talking to that unimpressed woman at the fifth troll on Bainbridge Island had me briefly second-guessing my life choices, on my drive back to California I became even more grateful for Lulu and the troll fever she gave me.

While staying in Oregon on my drive home, I learned that my mother-in-law had taken a bad fall and would not be able to go home again. Even worse, she very likely would never walk again.

The next morning, I got back on the road as soon as it was light, and around sunrise I stopped at a covered bridge I spotted from I-5 in southern Oregon.

Named “Grave Creek” in honor of a 16-year-old who died while trying to complete a far more important quest than mine, that bridge felt like the perfect place to end my journey: Because while walking over it, all I could think about was how just being able to walk at all would feel like an impossible quest to my mother-in-law, which made me even more grateful that I could still take road trips. And, yes, that I decided to take that silly one to meet Lulu.

So my advice for 2026 is this: That crazy quest you're dreaming about? Just do it. And do it now.

Movies I saw in November: Prey, Predator: Badlands, Roofman, Beau is Afraid

I saw two Predator movies last month, and of course the one I liked the most was the one my husband didn’t like at all, declaring it tedious and, worse yet, “not a Predator movie!”

And while I agree that “Predator: Badlands” was more Star Wars than Predator, I disagree that it's a bad thing, since its many nods to my favorite movie franchise made it my favorite of the movies I saw in November:

1. Predator: Badlands (In the theater) Grade: A.

The only thing I didn’t like about this movie was the beginning, as the first fight felt too much like watching a video game, and the movement of the predators’ mouths felt too much like watching a surgery.

But the movie won me over as soon as our main character begins his mission. First with the interesting plants and animals Dek initially tries to fight, and next with introducing us to Elle Fanning as the bubbly sidekick he initially tries to ditch.

Fanning plays two androids in this movie, but of course the one I loved was her C-3PO-like Thia, who quickly convinces Dek that she is necessary enough to strap on his back like Chewbacca did for the golden droid when he also lost his bottom half.

And Thia being split in two created my favorite scene in the movie, as watching her top half and bottom half battling foes twice as effectively as a tag team was the funnest fight scene I've seen since the women fighting with plates in Ballerina.

I was also a sucker for the movie’s main messages about how respecting the plants and animals we live with is always the best choice, even if you don't need them to complete a quest, and how finding a new family is often better than clinging to our first. 

2. Prey (On DVD, rented from the library) Grade: A-/B+

Like “Badlands,” this movie was directed by Dan Trachtenburg and centers on a warrior needing a successful hunt to prove themselves worthy of their clan, only this time the warrior is a young woman. 

And while I certainly appreciated having our hero be a heroine, I was taken so far out of the story by such an unrealistic-looking CGI bear that I could never get fully immersed again. 

Or maybe, I got so spoiled by all the Star Wars that Trachtenburg put in his other Predator movie that I couldn’t enjoy one without it. If you haven’t seen either yet, maybe learn from my mistake and check out Prey first.

3. Roofman (In the theater, 11/4/2025) Grade: B-

There was a lot to like in this movie, especially if you enjoy the Channing Tatum cocktail: Two parts a sweet goof who looks great with his shirt off, one part that pal you can call when you need to rob a bank.

Served with that cocktail is a great heel played by Peter Dinklage, because that’s what his prickly charm is best suited for, and a love interest played by Kirsten Dunst, who perfectly channels the hopeful angst of a single mom daring to believe Tatum’s handsome stranger isn't too good to be true.

And though I certainly enjoyed the extra seconds devoted to watching a completely naked Tatum scramble up a wall to his hidden toy store bedroom, this movie was far too long. Even with all the fun and apparently realistic details the movie includes about the true crimes and people this movie is based on, there was no reason it needed more than 90 minutes to tell us its story, let alone more than two hours!

4. Beau is Afraid (On DVD, rented from the library). Grade: D-/F+ 

This movie was an impulse watch, one that I picked off the shelf mostly because of Joaquin Phoenix, and which I now mostly regret.

Because the best thing about this movie was also the worst: An opening sequence where our main character is trying to get out of his apartment to catch a flight to his mother’s funeral, but everything that can go wrong does, especially since he appears to live on a city block full of actors trying out for the next spinoff to The Walking Dead.

The opening is both brilliant and horrible because it is anxiety come to life, with everything a fearful person could possibly imagine going wrong when they open dare their front door not only going wrong, but spectacularly so. If you’ve never felt such anxiety and have always wanted a master class, then watch the beginning of this movie for the best visual representation I’ve seen yet.  

The only other reason to watch this movie, other than another admirable performance by Joaquin Phoenix, is to see the huge penis monster our hero battles in an attic, an absurd scene that gave me the only laugh in this dismal and confusing slog of a movie that took me two days to finish watching after giving up more than once.

And the movie remained a confusing mess until I read a review by Richard Brody of The New Yorker, who neatly summed it up as just another story about a mom who tries to keep her son from having sex. And Beau’s mom achieves that seemingly impossible goal by telling her son he inherited a horrible infliction that causes a fatal heart attack during the act, a theory he never tests for decades, though Brody rightly wonders how we are expected to believe that not once, not even during his teen-age years, did Beau get desperate enough to decide sex was an experiment so tempting and necessary it was worth dying for?

Movies I saw in October: Bride of Frankenstein, One Battle After Another

Now, finally, I offer my grandmother’s movie reviews from November of 1998. (And boy, do I wish I could know what she would have thought of Beau is Afraid!):

11/7/1998

Wrote letter, to Kmart for lunch at 11.

To show, “The Siege.” Good. Annette Bening, Denzel Washington. Bruce Willis, not listed in front.

11/14/1998

To post office, KFC for lunch.

To show, “The Celebration.” Danish. Man is 60, has abused his children, son tells all. Odd photography, mostly face shots!

11/18/1998

Slept til 8. Usual breakfast. Chores.

To show, “Meet Joe Black.” Liked. Anthony Hopkins.

Home, washed clothes. 

11/26/1998: Thanksgiving

To show, “Elizabeth.” Good.

11/28/1998 

To Show, “Enemy of the State.” Will Smith, Gene Hackman. Great suspense.

Bed 9, awake 12:30. Drank milk, read New Yorker til 1:30.

The Forecast Discussion: How I fell in love with the National Weather Service

I never paid much attention to the weather forecast until I moved to Seattle. Because before, I never felt like the clouds were trying to kill me.

No, for my first 30 years on the coast of California, moisture mostly came from the sky in 30 shades of gentle gray, like fog and thicker fog. So a weather forecast? That was something you checked to see if that fog would turn to rain just in time to ruin your weekend plans.

But the skies over the Puget Sound dropped 30 shades of danger, giving me a crash course my first winter in things like graupel, freezing rain and my new boogeyman: Black Ice.

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.”

That was cool.

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.

“Science is the foundation of how we understand the world, make predictions, and actually manage everything from the private sector to our responses to things like natural disasters and fires," said Rep. Melanie Stansbury of New Mexico, who used to be a middle school science teacher, speaking during a forum on NOAA earlier this year. “And it plays a major part in even the landlocked parts of our country in terms of managing the weather service and advising us on climate issues.”

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.