The forecast
Predicting the unpredictable, plus photos from space, the new VW bus, and honoring a great Delfonic
Every morning at breakfast, my mother-in-law looks out the window and says, “So what’s the forecast?”
This time of year I usually say “hot, with rain in the late afternoon.” Because in the Carolinas, in the summer, that’s a good bet.
Sometimes I’ll check the weather app on my iPhone for a little more info. And if we want the full scoop we’ll look up Brad Panovich, our favorite local weatherperson.
It’s hard to appreciate just how much more detailed and accurate weather forecasting is now than it used to be—especially on TV. When I was growing up, the most popular local weatherman was a guy named Cap’n Sandy, who received the next day’s forecast from a bird puppet named Wilbur and plucked the tide report from the shell of something called Calamity Clam. I am not making any of this up:
Note that the segment is 10% forecast, 20% corny jokes, and 70% recap of what had already happened that day. Kind of hard to get that wrong!
But even now, with all the skill and technology in the weather business, the forecast can still be off by a lot. I actually think that’s good. It teaches us that you can’t count on life being predictable.
Last night, in the Jan. 6 committee hearing, one of the many featured characters was Tommy Tuberville, the Republican senator from Alabama. College football fans know him even better as the former coach at Auburn (and Ole Miss, and Texas Tech, and Cincinnati). I do not know how to say this gently: No one has ever mistaken Tommy Tuberville for a genius. But there he was, in the middle of history.
What I’m getting at here is that there’s not much point in forecasting life—not even our own. If I was 22 again and somebody said “What are the odds that in your fifties you’ll be living in North Carolina, married to someone from Wisconsin, living with your mother-in-law and a cat, and making podcasts for a living?”—well, first I would’ve said “What’s a podcast?”, and then I would’ve given the odds at something close to zero.
Screenwriter William Goldman has a famous quote about Hollywood: “Nobody knows anything.” What he means is, when it comes to hits and flops, the movie business is lousy about predicting. That’s true for our lives, too. It’s useful to aim in the direction you want to go, but understand that a storm might knock you sideways, or a summer wind might take you in a direction you never expected.
Our 10-day forecast is just a guess, much less our 10-year forecast, and that’s the joy of it.
10 things I wanted to share this week:
This week’s guest on my podcast SOUTHBOUND was Chris Mullis, who was a young astronomer 20 years ago when he took the first images of a galaxy cluster featured in the recent photos from the Webb Space Telescope. If Chris can’t get you fired up about the stars, no one can.
And if you haven’t looked at those glorious Webb Space Telescope images, please, treat yourself.
My weekly for WFAE was about our new poet laureate, and why we need one in these unpoetic times.
Two great tastes that taste great together: One of my favorite writers, Casey Cep, on one of my favorite places, Square Books in Oxford, MS.
DOG NEWS: While I work on my book, I’m devoting this slot to dog stories. This week: I don’t think I’ve ever watched a full episode of FUTURAMA, but this piece about the death of Seymour the dog nearly crushed me anyway. (It’s part of a larger piece on the 50 greatest fictional deaths of all time.)
Why was Steven Spielberg wearing a North Carolina Highway Patrol trucker hat on the set of INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE? This is a mystery Jeremy Markovich, creator of the brilliant NC RABBIT HOLE, was born to solve. And he did.
The VW Bus is coming back! Sort of.
Our current British crime drama is THE MALLORCA FILES, where an uptight (but beautiful) British detective gets stuck in Mallorca, solving crimes with a goofy (but handsome) German counterpart. The mysteries are OK; the scenery and sexual tension are excellent.
Tim Kreider says it’s time to stop living the American scam.
RIP William Hart, the lead singer and main songwriter for the fabulous Delfonics. When it comes to ballads, there ain’t many better than “La-La (Means I Love You).”
See you next week, everyone.
I want a VW bus, but I want the old one, not new. I’d drive it everywhere with my dog Louisa Dear as my navigator. And if I met someone along the way I’d invite them in for tea. In the afternoon I’d take a nap and still be home for dinner.
That's cool! I have some family that live in Manitowoc.