EDITOR’S CORNER
Iwas standing at the corner of Ackerman and Cameron—or, if you’re into numbers, the corner of US 79 and FM 487—yesterday waiting to cross the street.
It was hot. That day Rockdale’s official high was 96. But there was probably a 15-mile-per hour south wind lifting the flags at the library and post office, along with my spirits.
And it hit me. No, not the flags, it wasn’t blowing quite that hard.
This is what’s been the burr under my saddle all these years about certain aspects of weather forecasts.
Specifically, the “heat index” in the summer and “wind-chill factor” in the winter.
You’ve heard it too. “It will be 97 tomorrow, but because of the humidity it will ‘feel like’ 104.”
Or, in the winter. “Tonight’s low will be 42, but because of the strong north wind it will ‘feel like’ 34.”
I stood there with an admittedly warm, but very pleasant, wind in my face, feeling pretty good for June in Central Texas, and once again wondered.
Why doesn’t it ever work the other way?
As in: “It’s going to be 92 tomorrow but there will be a nice breeze off the Gulf and it will only feel 85.”
Or, in the winter: “A cold one tonight, down to 29, but there won’t be a breath of air, and it will only feel like 34.”
Why do they always emphasize the negative, come up with stats pointed only one way, to make us feel more uncomfortable?
I know more about wind-chill. It was originated by a couple of scientists in the Antarctic who did experiments on how long it took water to freeze and compared that to research on how the human body reacts to temperatures.
Their conclusion: It’s cold in Antarctica.
I’m not as familiar with heat index but I suspect it was created by every Texan’s Aunt Tillie in Ohio who is always saying to us: “Oh I saw it was 184 yesterday in Texas, but it’s a dry heat isn’t it?”
To which there is only one appropriate response. “Aunt Tillie, I have one word for you....Houston.”
I think it’s our natural tendency to always emphasize the negative, as if what we need to hear, unceasingly, is something to make us think “oh, poor me.”
A case in point. Remember the “misery index?” It was big time back 30 to 40 years ago. The misery index is adding the rate of inflation to the rate of unemployment.
Back in the 1970s, when it became a big deal in politics, it was 12.7. Oh, poor us.
But we haven’t heard about if for quite a while. Why not? So, I calculated the misery index that day.
It was 6.0. Hey, not bad. But “hey, not bad” is apparently not what we want to hear, whether it’s weather or economics.
I understand. Belive me. It’s at the heart of the business I’m in. News, by definition, is something out of the ordinary. And it’s often not something that makes us feel good.
But I’m not really cut from that cloth, and I’ve got a hunch most of us aren’t either. I have to write about heartbreak, tragedy, vital industries closing. But I also get to go to the Fair, see smiles on kids’ faces, be blessed to see my town come together in scores of ways, get hugs at Rockdale Homecomings and cover hundreds of people doing thousands of nice things for others.
And, when there’s a positive view of something, I want to know about it, even if it’s something as simple as that nice south breeze which made me feel good for a couple of seconds.
Besides that breeze also brought me the wonderful scent of a Mexican restaurant.
Index that.—M.B.
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