If Spring were a mimic, its impression of Winter would be uncanny so far. Last year we basked in the 80s. This morning my hands froze.
The weather guy (or gal) deserves a one-finger salute. Right? At least if you buy into the mindless chatter on the local TV news outlets. They're always giving a hearty pat on the back to the faux or real meteorologist when the day is sunny and a good-natured rebuke when it's not.
It's all theater, of course. I know that. But I still find it a bit annoying. Whether a storm is approaching or not, the weather person has absolutely nothing to do with it. Except predict it...if he can.
If a cloud is going to spoil your parade, blame its Creator, or if you like, Mother Nature. Or maybe, the cloud itself.
Stick a pin in a voodoo doll if you must play Let's Pretend.
But don't blame the weatherman. Excepting when he's wrong.