After much consideration, I believe Iíve finally found my dream job. You know what I mean, that cushy, well paid, stress free position that comes around once in a lifetime. Even better is the fact that this particular job Ė unlike so many others Ė requires absolutely no accountability whatsoever, you can perform at any level and (whatís best) at the end of the day, it doesnít even matter if you did the job right, you still get paid.
Talk about job security.
Yes, after carefully weighing in on the perks, benefits and apparent lack of responsibility necessary on a day-to-day (or night-to-night) basis, Iíve decided Iíd like to be a weatherman. Professionals in this field, of course, have a fancy name for what they do Ė meteorology Ė which, as far as I can tell, means I-donít-have-a-clue-what-Iím-talking-about-but-pay-me-anyway.
In all seriousness, though, whatís so hard about reporting the weather? Thereís little to no research involved (and with Google at your fingertips, the concept of research has been completely redefined), all you have to do is show up on time, dressed in suit and tie, and have no fear of the camera, and then Ė of course Ė be able to convince people your an expert on something thatís completely unpredictable.
To put it simply, Iíve seen mind readers with a better batting average than your typical weatherman.
Personally, Iíve never understood our fascination with the weather, considering you canít watch the morning news for more than five minutes without the latest weather update. And in this day and age, we even have 24-hour-a-day cable television networks devoted to the topic, which begs the question, who the hell wants to watch the weather for hours at a time?
As for me, I donít waste my time with weather reports, because thatís exactly what it is ... a waste of my time. How do I get by, you ask? How can I possibly survive without keeping up-to-date on the latest meteorological findings?
Iíll give you a hint ... I look out the window.
I know that sounds completely illogical, but it works, it really does.
White stuff falling from the sky? Well, if itís cold out, then itís probably snowing. If itís 70 degrees on cloudy, spring day, it could be the advent of nuclear fallout, in which case ... why worry, right?
Going outside for a little stroll and the sidewalk is wet? In moments my hair (whatís left of it) is plastered to my forehead? Itís probably raining. Either that or the neighbor just installed the mother of all sprinkler systems.
Trying to start the car and Ė for some odd reason Ė the door wonít open, itís frozen shut and the engine refuses to turn over? Itís freezing out, therefore I should probably have a coat on.
Peering outside only to see the entire neighborhoodís collection of garbage cans rolling down the street, with nary a soul in sight? Itís windy, so batten down the hatches and all hands report below deck.
Itís the lack of accountability that really irks me, however, because of all the jobs I can think of, weatherman is the only one where you can be 100 percent wrong, 100 percent of the time, and still get paid.
How is that fair?
Hypothetically speaking, letís say Iím planning a summer getaway, a weekend camping trip down at the lake or even an outdoor picnic with friends. I wake up that morning, grab a cup of coffee and sit down for a preview on the dayís weather, which Ė of course Ė says partly cloudy with a slight breeze and a high of 78 degrees.
Perfect, I think to myself, game on.
Three hours later, after that partly cloudy forecast has revealed itself as a noríeaster of epic proportions, Iím left wondering who to blame.
Letís face it, thereís no predicting Mother Nature.
And hereís the kicker. After all of that, is the weatherman fired? Do they dock his pay? No, of course not. Hell, I doubt if they even suspend his water cooler privileges in the office.
Find me another job like that and I promise, Iíll take it back. Until then, Iím going to spend some time researching meteorology school ... or whatever they call it.
On Google, of course.
Follow me on Twitter ... @evesunbrian.