[Really and truly, I fully intended to post S.’s blog post without any comments or edits from me – REALLY – but upon rereading it I think he forgot one of the most important points of our most recent “female weather forecasters are hot” discussions. Yesterday I went to my main man Corey, the only man who touches this head of hair in a professional way, and he asked me what S. thought of the cut when I came home a couple months ago. “Well,” I said, “He asked me to read the weather to him, said it was weather woman hair.” I had been insulted by this but Corey beamed. “Female weather forecasters are HOT! That’s a huge compliment.” Thus ensued lots of me practicing to read the weather in various different local weather personalities while he trimmed my bangs. When I came home I told S. he wasn’t the only man in love with one of our most prominent weather women, and encouraged him, again, to write this blog post. Okay, here you go.]
Sooo…S here, mysterious spouse of C, blogging on C’s blog. C invited me to do so—in fact, she invited me to do so a number of years ago, but deferring to the wisdom of law school professors and heeding the admonition that perhaps it is best to put NONE of one’s personal self online, I politely declined. Having been thusly invited, I can still say that it feels a bit weird, almost like invading another’s email account or something like that.
As you can guess, I read the blog, but most likely for different reasons than you do. Mainly, I read it to figure out what portions of conversations and other thoughts crystallize in C’s mind. One could in fact posit that every spouse ought to have a blog, because as far as I can tell it is the single best window into good, solid long-term communication. Imagine for a second…you and your spouse (partner, friend, friend-with-benefits, etc., we don’t discriminate here, as we’re a reliably Obama household) have a conversation, and the essential parts—at least as deemed by one’s spouse—are captured in PRINT VERSION. Some might object that it violates some sort of marital zone of privacy (there I go sounding like a lawyer), but in fact it tends to be a rather wonderful thing with regard to ongoing conversations. Bottom line…I have never read said blog for why we were arguing, so I think that’s a good thing. Anyhow, on to the main reason of this post.
As regular readers of this blog know, C and I were on vacation in northern Michigan a week ago. One of our favorite traditions while there is to watch the local newscast every night, at 6 and 11 pm. While to most folks this may seem like a bit of overkill, we have one very practical reason for doing so—it’s the only reliable, accurate, and precise way that you can get the weather (yes, the “reliable, accurate, and precise” part is meant to be a joke). When one is spending the majority of one’s time outdoors, one comes to really care about what the forecast looks like. Put differently, cocktails outdoors in the rain are nowhere near as fun as cocktails outdoor in the sun.
Our other reason for watching the news up there is that it is undoubtedly hilarious. Traverse City Michigan is home to the annual National Cherry Festival (it is the Cherry Capital of the World, folks), and the city contains a large space of open land that hosts the festival and was rather creatively named the “Open Space.” While most localities have festivals and times of general merriment, the National Cherry Festival is a BIG DAMN DEAL in northern Michigan. So much so, in fact, that every local station hosts live broadcasts every year from the “Open Space.” (As a rejoinder, while up north, C and I went to a gathering at a bar that advertised Friday nights as “Maritini Night.” I could never figure out whether it was the martinis or the night that was unintended, but I digress.) So every year, C and I get to watch footage of the same dogs jumping into water as part of a canine Olympics, and also watch various assorted folks willingly plant themselves face-first into a slice of cherry pie (the all you can eat pie contest), and for whatever reason, we find this just comical. Add this to the fact that a car accident five counties away is headline news, and, well, you get the picture. In Pittsburgh, you have to shoot more than one person (or have a house fire—for more on this, check out the blog Stuff Yinzers Like, #8) to actually get on the news. Lest you think I am way off topic, there really is a point to this.
Both northern Michigan news stations have female weather forecasters, and this led to the inevitable discussion (at least in our marriage) of why female weather forecasters are HOT. Not all forecasters, mind you, but the ones who are good looking and intelligent…well, yes, there is no denying it, they are just HOT. Our discussion, as I recall it, went something like this:
S: Wow, (forecaster X), gives a great weather forecast.
C: You think she’s hot, don’t you? Just like Renee Russo.
S: There you go bringing up Renee Russo again. We weren’t even married when I said that. And yes, she is hot!
C: [Long rant, redacted for purposes of economy]. What is it about female weather forecasters?
S: Well, there are several factors. (Yes, I really do talk like this. Ask my friends. Or my poor suffering spouse).
And, here they are:
1. Weather is sexy, at least to most males I know. There’s something about weather that just lends itself to the male consciousness. It’s one thing to say “well, guess it might rain today,” but for most men, it’s only meaningful to say “heard there’s a 20% chance of showers today. And did you see that barometric pressure drop?” Any less than that, and you’re taking a good chance that you won’t be respected. More information equals greater sexiness, at least in weather terms. It’s why your average male can’t simply talk about how good their football team is (GO STEELERS!), but rather, why the football team will win because the quarterback is throwing at a better than 62% completion percentage. It’s precisely why most men I know watch the Weather Channel. There’s no rational reason to watch it—I mean, you can get the same stuff on your local news—but on the Weather Channel, you can get it 24 hours a day!
2. Women, generally, are sexy to men (generally—remember, we are an Obama household with an Obama-approved rescue dog). Add this to the fact that there are women who specialize in weather, and well, you get the picture. Now, I would propose that there are certain rules to this: (a) female weather forecasters who have meteorology degrees trump those who stumbled into the whole thing (and you CAN tell the difference); (b) good looking female weather forecasters trump those with ordinary looks. Add the two together, and well, wow, a good number of men start stumbling into quivering messes.
3. Intelligent, articulate women are just sexy in general. Now, some men would deny this, but I think they’re bluffing. As a sterling example, this is a big part of why I married C (REMEMBER THIS FOR THE NEXT ARGUMENT, HON!).
3. Male weather forecasters are generally tools. There’s just no other way to say it. With the exception of a select few (they generally have to stand in front of hurricanes), there’s a general lack of credibility. And, at least in northern Michigan, they’re not particularly good looking.
So, given that airtight logic, there’s no doubt that I won the conversation, and no doubt, the night. At least, C let me think so. And this very conversation spawned the idea that I ought to blog about it, which led to the reintroduction of her invitation to me, so there you are. Who said there isn’t any mystery left after almost 9 years of marriage? Enough rambling for one day, anyway. I’m sure after this post, C will take her blog back to the sort of witty, articulate writing that you’ve come to know and love.