Hurricane coverage basis of why residents don’t evacuate

Being a Floridian for nearly 20 years, I have grown accustom to the over-dramatization each hurricane season by the local news and have become desensitized to the straight-faced talking heads as the “apocalypse” draws ever so near.

During the years, I have continued this practice, and the coverage of Hurricane Ike was no exception. Nostalgia set in as the alarmists haven’t let me down yet.

In the days leading up to Hurricane Ike’s arrival, we were shown images from meteorological professionals “predicting” where the storm would hit.

To get a clearer picture of what we can expect, they cut to another satellite view. But I don’t know
what these maps mean or how to interpret them.

There are 32 different colors swirling around like an acid-tripped watercolor, and no one gave me 3-D glasses during the commercial break. The weatherman motioned and said, “this is where the heaviest rains are falling.” Where? The blue squiggle or the yellow blob? What’s the pink and orange carnation looking scribble mean?

Incidentally, The Weather Channel is the most watched cable network, meaning that while 9/11 was being carried out, a portion of our fellow countrymen were watching the weather.

Aside from the smattering of mind-numbing dribble, there is only one other aspect of hurricane coverage I find entertaining: The time when our sturdy TV news anchors in their comfortable studio touch base with Fred.

There is a Fred in every major disaster.

Fred has the lowliest job in the studio because Fred is always the one sent out –most certainly against his better judgment – to experience the storm from the front lines. All so we at home may visualize the effects of being in the “splash zone” without soiling our ponchos.

Decked in his signature yellow raincoat, Fred is easy to spot in the most inclement weather. His typical broadcast is given while being blown sideways clutching a stop sign – further proof that this is a genuine Fred.

“How are things out there?” the news anchor prompted with a smile.
You and your friends can make a game out of this interview by betting when Fred will lose his hat, fall down, let go of the stop sign and become airborne or is left stranded by the camera man.

My other favorite is predicting when the well-groomed anchor will inform us that, “It seems we have lost contact with Fred,” an unfortunate, yet foreseeable occurrence that happens at least once every segment.

Sure, people should take hurricanes seriously when mandatory evacuations are made, but weather stations are making it hard for me, a native Floridian, to take them seriously.

E-mail Alexander Koby at discourse@unfspinnaker.com.