Sometimes I read science reports about the weather. It’s not that I’m a nerd; I’m just interested in stuff that hits me right in the face. Stuff like the blazing sunshine (certainly not rain) that heated up our summer this year. And the mild breezes of last winter, one of Michigan’s warmest on record.
A word of caution, though. Reading science reports about the weather can trigger anxiety attacks. That’s because…
- Details about extreme weather throughout the country seem to bombard us non-stop.
- Weather scientists’ predictions are pretty dire and they’re based on statistics. (It’s probably not good for me that I majored in statistics in college.)
- It doesn’t take much imagination to get a picture of what happens if the country runs out of energy to operate air conditioning when the temperature hits 100+ for weeks in a row (42 days in a row for Dallas, Texas, this summer).
- And scariest of all, global warming deniers are still bucking the scientists and pushing their own notion that all this is normal variation. Human beings keep burning fossil fuels? That has nothing to do with it, folks, so drill, baby, drill, and burn, baby, burn.
Wild thinkers are saying that if this keeps on, we’d have to live underground. That would sure ruin the looks of the neighborhood.
To quell my anxiety, I’d like people not to shout down but to listen to the scientists about where Earth and we, her children, stand with Mother Nature. And I’d like people to encourage the necessary, if inconvenient, actions needed to avert catastrophe.
Here’s a website to one of those weather science reports. It has to do with what happened to the ice in the area of the North Pole this summer. Here’s a quote to get you started:
“Astonished by the summer’s changes, scientists are studying the forces that exposed one million square miles of open water—six Californias—beyond the average since satellites started measurements in 1979.”
Let’s lighten up
Mr. Wilkins began reading his recovery-room record at the hospital.
The doctor arrived for the routine check-up to find the elderly gentleman quite concerned about one notation.
“I know I was in a bit of a mess when I was admitted,” said Mr. Wilkins, “but I didn’t realize I was that bad.” His face was sad as he apologized. “I hope I didn’t offend anyone too badly.”
He was comforted when the doctor explained the acronym S.O.B. meant “Short Of Breath.”
Let’s lighten up again
A little kid raised his hand and asked the teacher, “Would you please tell me, ma’am, how do you spell icholas?”
Miss Simmons, the teacher, thought she had misunderstood. “Don’t you mean Nicholas?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I’ve written the ‘N’ already.”
Let’s lighten up her hair
Q: What would you do if a blond threw a hand grenade at you?
A: You’d pull the pin and throw it right back.