Forecasting Sake

Post ILXXX

Here’s the story of white coats, journeys, and hammocks.

I often wonder who the first weather forecaster was. Admittedly, this is a strange wonderment for a 22-year-old man-child to have. But we all have strange wonderments as we get old. Why are my nails growing shorter? Why do birds fly away from me? Why can’t I see my reflection in the mirror? Indeed, it may not even be a mirror. I mean, what is a mirror? Yes, one could argue it’s nothing but a reflection of oneself, but equally, it could be a metaphysical transcendence into the dominion of the soul.

One could also argue that I’m half-asleep and I’m actually holding an empty picture frame.

I like to think the first weather forecaster was like that empty picture frame and me. Sitting on the edge of our respective hammocks in our wooden run-down crap-shack with half of last night’s pizza stuck on our left cheek and a mysterious unconscious woman face down on the floor to our right, there because she rolled out of the hammock.

Like that first weather forecaster, this scenario is almost certainly a dream. A foretelling of the future. Yes, I know it isn’t a great dream for a young man to have, living in a wooden box with my only sustenance being the love I feel for my neighbours. Sorry, I mean hate. Staring blankly at that motionless woman on the floor. Is she dead? I need a stick.

But that first weather forecaster, he didn’t have dreams of insanity like I. He didn’t have a blog being read by wonderful people wondering if they should telephone a group of people in white coats to take him away. But I like to think he was like me. Sitting on the edge of that hammock letting his dreams fly away into the soul of the sky, wondering why there was no reflection. Too dumb to realize it’s just a goddamn empty picture frame.

I often wonder why the first weather forecaster felt it necessary to predict the weather all those tens of decades ago. Sure, it’s useful for farmers and crop merchants. And outdoor traders. And salesmen outside their old stores. And for public transport with their horses and carts. And for park-keepers. And event’s organizers. And for quite a few other people, now I think about it. But apart from them, why? I’d be so much happier if I was living in blissful ignorance.

What would the first weather forecaster have said, if he had seen the week I have had at the mercy of the weather. He’d probably say, “Hey, old chum, who the devil are you and why am I addressing you in your most private bedroom parlour, surrounded by satanic flashing lights and a hammock tossed woman on the floor?” That would be an excellent question, but irrelevant.

“Listen, Mr. First Weather Forecaster”, I’d chant. “If I had been ignorant of this farcical weather I could have carried on my day’s journey at my usual pace. I wouldn’t have been trying to be careful to avoid all the snow and ice, and I wouldn’t have missed the bus and ended up 20 minutes late for an appointment. Now, you could argue that perhaps I should’ve set off earlier and that the forecasting saved me breaking my neck. True. But that caution I exercised was based on trepidation and fear, and caused me to perambulate twice as slow as I would’ve done, making me late and more susceptible to slipping over. Everything around me was a slippy, neck-breaking possible catastrophe, which I wouldn’t have been worried about if it wasn’t for your ‘forecasting’. I was virtually unable to carry out my journey as I otherwise would’ve intended to do. All because of you. You, you – jackass”.

“Well, Sir, as Mr. First Weather Forecaster”, he argues in response, “I am insulted and will storm out of here immediately, taking, if I may, this charming – floor maiden, with me. But, as I leave, I do have but one thing to say to you: why not simply avoid the weather forecast in the first place?”

In fairness to him, I hadn’t thought of that.

I’ll get my coat.

But first, there is one more thing.

Those of you who know me know I’m never full of cheer regarding an upcoming special day this month. Quite the opposite. So you may have expected me not to mention this day at all, even now, as every blog out there is talking about it. You may also be sincerely hoping I change my tune and, at the very least, stop being so grumpy and, just for this year, give it a bit of a mention. Okey-doke.

Christmas.

Peace Out :|:

(I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post by clicking here and scrolling down to the bottom of the page. Feel free to check out my second and third blogs. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks)

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