MORTON: Looka me! I’m a meteorologist

Looking for a job? How’d you like to be the TV weatherperson? That doesn’t sound like it’s too hard, does it?

Why, shucks! You’d get to be an “expert!”

You’d walk the walk and talk the talk, rattling on and on about isotherms and isobars, high and low pressure centers, cold and warm fronts and all that stuff, just like it meant something to us ordinary folks.

Wow! You even get to discuss the jet stream, just like an airline pilot!

Is that glamorous or what?

Just put on a suit and tie or, if you’re of the female persuasion, dress up drop-dead gorgeous and you’re ready to meander around in front of that big colorful electronic map with all those cartoons and wiggly things and wave your arms back and forth, pointing out this and that all over the place, telling everyone how this is going to be over there by tomorrow and that disturbance whatchamacallit isn’t going anywhere for a couple of hours, and even demonstrating rain or snowfall intensity with green for an inch over here, blue for a trace over there, and no color where it didn’t rain at all today.

You’ll have about eight minutes two or three times a day to strut your stuff.

You’ll get to smile a lot and tell folks that it’s going to be a gorgeous day to go fishing or play a round of golf or two, or you can warn them to put on their woolies because the frost will be on the pumpkin.

Not only that, you’re going to be right at least half the time, and that’s the kind of thing that makes folks feel good — for a while, anyway, until the blizzard arrives.

And, to top it off, you’ll be guaranteed employment because there’s always weather, right?

You are “The Pro.”

You’re the one in charge.

You are the authority.

You have the last word, because you have “inside information” — or at least it sounds like it, since us everyday folks don’t really understand what you’re talking about.

We’re hanging around here waiting for the part where you say whether we should go outside today or not, because we just want to know if we need our jacket and mittens, our umbrella and galoshes, or sunglasses and sweatshirt.

We want to find out if this will be a good day to mow the lawn and plant our tomatoes, or if it’s going to be too hot or too rainy, so we can put it off and loaf for another day or two.

And if you’re wrong today, it’s forgotten overnight, because tomorrow, you’ll have a brand new forecast.

Remember, too, there are built-in mini-vacations, since when there’s a three or four-day spell of weather coming up you don’t have much to do. The forecast isn’t going to change for a while, so you can simply repeat yesterday’s forecast, then relax a little, maybe even take the family out for a picnic.

On the other hand, if a frog-strangling thunderstorm should blow up out of nowhere or, heaven forbid, a tornado, you have to take the rap for it, but if you think fast enough, you can always explain it away as a “climatological anomaly,” which somehow slipped past your million-dollar weather computer, and which we ordinary folks call a copout.

Still, you’re the one with the fancy title, like chief meteorologist, Mighty poobah, or something. It makes you look like you know what you’re talking about, but you’re not really fooling us.

We firmly believe you have almost exactly the same odds as the rest of us do when it comes to forecasting; fifty-fifty, because in the final analysis, either you’re right, or you’re wrong — just like us humans.

No thanks. None of that fancy-schmancy stuff for me. As far as I’m concerned, the weatherman’s job is safe, and I’ll just keep on doing what I’ve always done.

I’ll stick my head out the door, wet my finger and hold it in the breeze so I can find out if there’s wind or not. I’ll see which direction it’s coming from, decide whether it’s bringing clouds or maybe rain, and then make up my mind about having time to do my shopping and get home again before I get wet.

Hey ma! Looka me!

I’m almost a weatherman!

Mike Morton writes each week for the Kansan. He can be reached at m24r24fm8445@att.net. Mike’s book, “On The Loose Collection, Volume One,” is on sale in Newton at the Kansan, 121 W. Sixth St.; and Anderson Book and Office Supply, 627 N. Main St