Yesterday, where I live, it was supposed to be 65 degrees and sunny. They’ve been saying it was coming for a week or better. Great January weather, right? And I, for one, was looking forward to it. Well, turns out the high was only 47 and we saw not one ray of sunshine. Conditions were mostly foggy with a bit of drizzle.

Why is it that weather forecasters never suffer any ill effects for being wrong? This is a fairly well-paid profession yet, they are notoriously wrong in their predictions. It’s a pattern. I think half the time their brain is in a fog. But, somehow, they keep their job.

I can only imagine if I turned in a similar performance at my job as a truck driver. I’m quite certain I wouldn’t be around after a single day. I don’t think I’m alone. In fact, I’m pretty sure most people would be fired if they came anywhere close to the abysmal track record of meteorologists. Most bosses do not appreciate incompetence—especially when it’s on-going.

These days meteorology has moved away from the old weather vanes and anemometers to some rather expensive and sophisticated technology; Doppler radar, satellite imaging, weather balloons with sensors, forecasting software with weather models, not to mention theses guys go to college to study weather patterns and the climate. Despite the advancements, accuracy rates are no better than they were fifty years ago. Really!

In the sixties, weather forecasters held an aggregate average of approximately 70 percent. Some days were better than others, obviously, as were some forecasters in any given time. But the average for them all was roughly 70 percent.

Today’s meteorologists like to claim they are far better at predicting the weather and that they are continually advancing. I think that’s just to justify the millions of dollars spent on equipment—meteorologist’s toys. One guy I looked up, while researching for this post, maintains he has a 95 percent accuracy. But if you look, you’ll discover this includes next day and even same day forecasts! Well, even I could do pretty well by glancing out the window—probably get close to 100 percent accuracy, I’m thinking. But a true forecast, as in, not waiting until the weather is happening or about to happen, is still averaging about 70 percent.

I looked up the statistics on weather forecasts for my area and found that the average from the top ten forecasting services, which includes, The Weather Channel, AccuWeather, and the National Weather Service, was 65.31 percent for the last month and 65.86 percent for the last year. So much for the meteorologist’s claims of improvement.

In school, I had teacher who pointed out that if you predict the exact same weather for tomorrow as was experienced today and you’ll have a 70 percent accuracy. No college, no study of weather patterns, and no equipment. And you’ll do just as well as the weatherman—at least over a period of time. So again, why do these guys keep their job?

Incidentally, the Old Farmer’s Almanac, long ridiculed by many, including meteorologists, has about an 65 percent accuracy rating—and that’s a running total all the way back to when they started, in 1792! Some years, they were as low as 52 percent but other years it’s been as high as 80. Seems to me that meteorologists could save a lot of time and money by just buying a subscription to the Old Farmer’s Almanac!

Oh, and what did the Old Farmer’s Almanac forecast for this week where I live? Mild temperatures (39 degrees) and a little rain. Not perfect, but definitely better than the weatherman!

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

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SPOTLIGHT Author

Robin Chambers
A Wizard Dreams

As a kid, I used to love school field trips. Aside from getting out of school, the trip itself was usually something fun and memorable. After one such outing to a museum, and without much forethought, I decided I wanted to be a sculptor. I’m not sure how old I was at the time, around eight or nine I think. I do remember being quite impressed by the statues and figurines on display. Fascinated, really. Everything looked so real, so exact, so perfect.

Back at school, we watched a film on how sculptors did their work. The art of sculpting, it said, was intensive and required skill, both in imagination and artistic ability. Well, I immediately discounted the possibility that it could be difficult. I figured since I could draw, and had never lacked for an imagination, then I could certainly be a sculptor. How hard could it be anyway?

At home that afternoon, I found my dad’s tool box, picked out a couple of chisels, along with a hammer, and went searching for a rock. A big rock. Time to make my mark on the world!

I spent a few hours chiseling (pounding with the hammer until I got a chunk of rock to fracture and come off) and then studying my progress. I hadn’t decided what I would make beforehand. I think I was hoping something would start to emerge and then I’d just go with that. Well, as you can imagine, things didn’t go quite that way. After several hours all I had was, well, a rock. A smaller rock than I’d started with, but still just a rock.

Okay, I thought, maybe they’d been right. Perhaps sculpting was indeed hard to do.

A few years later, I tried my hand again. I was older, had a better idea of what to do, but while there was a little improvement, the result was about the same. And so, although I hate to give up, hate to admit defeat on anything, I realized that maybe sculpting wasn’t for me.

Then, after high school, I went to work at a dental laboratory where we fabricated dental appliances; dentures, crowns, bridges, etc. The process is a little drawn out but it begins by designing the prosthesis in wax. Generally, a pre-formed mold is used, which is then customized to match the existing teeth, gums, and facial features. This is accomplished with various tools, one of which is a wax carver, also known as a sculptor. And sometimes the appliance is made from scratch. It was probably two or three years before I discovered that what I was doing was sculpting.

Remember how I said I don’t like giving up or admitting defeat? Well, I suddenly found a new inspiration. I made all sorts of things; guns and holsters, cars, birds, little faces and figurines, anything I could think of. Mostly, I stuck to wax sculptures but some of the stuff, I chose to make out of stone or metal. And surprisingly, they all turned out! No, my “art” will never be displayed in a museum and it’s definitely not the picture of perfection but I did manage to become a sculptor—of sorts. Hmm, maybe it’s time to try my luck on a rock again.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

SPOTLIGHT Author

C. S. Boyack
The Cock Of The South

A few years ago, I would have never thought I’d be happy with gas prices at more than two dollars a gallon. But that was before I’d been forced to pay nearly twice that much.

Everyone seems to be concerned with answering the question of why gas prices are dropping. I’m not really interested in the why, only that they are! And, like most people, I find it difficult to work up any sympathy for the companies that are losing money because of it. Those are the same companies that have taken advantage of me and everyone else for years. They were never too worried what the high prices were doing to any of us.

Recent reports claim that thanks to the falling prices, Americans are currently saving a few billion dollars per month! That’s a lot of money. And while I do more than my fair share of driving, I can assure you, I’m not saving quite that much!

Seriously though, living over 60 miles from my job means a weekly commute of around 650 miles. That adds up to a lot of gas over the course of a year. Wait, that adds up to a lot of gas over the course of a week. Especially since I drive a four-wheel drive pickup. And no, just to be clear, I NEVER considered buying a hybrid car. That’s definitely not  for me. I prefer to drive a real vehicle.

At any rate, you can see why the falling prices have me in such a good mood! But I know better than to allow myself to become too excited. Life has a way of handing a guy something with one hand and then taking it back with the other. I’m sure something will happen to even things out.

For the moment however, it is nice not to have to take out a second mortgage on the house just to buy gas.  Or, go without eating. And I no longer have the urge to shoot the dial on the pump either! Ditto for the sign. Good thing I guess, because so far, the price of ammo hasn’t really come down.

But perhaps the best part of the new lower gas prices is that I can now afford to go to work. Hmm. Now that I think about it, not sure if that makes me happy or not.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

SPOTLIGHT Author
 
C. S. Boyack
The Cock Of The South

I remember as a little kid of about three or four, looking at my dad’s hands and wondering why they looked the way they did. My hands were smooth, his were not. After I got a little older, I realized it was because he worked for a living and that’s how working hands look.

But even after I’d been working for a while myself (still as a kid), my hands didn’t look nearly as callused or weathered as his. I used to check my hands at night, especially after a particularly hard day’s work, and though it seemed they should be developing calluses and toughening up, they never really matched my dad’s hands. I decided it was because he must work more than I did. A LOT more, apparently. After all, he was always working on something. Me, I spent a lot of time playing. Still, I wanted my hands to look like that.

As a teenager, they did develop a few calluses and become a little rougher, but nothing like my dad’s. In school, I learned that due to genetics, eventually my hands would inevitably have many of the same features as my father’s. But I figured that was only referring to size and shape. Besides, by then, I had given up on the idea my hands would ever look like his.

Life went on and I grew up, and continued working—and aging. I’m not sure when it happened, but one day, I noticed my hands had the same weathered look as my father’s when I was a little boy. Of course, by this time, his hands were obviously well beyond where mine were. Still, my hands had become like his were when I first noticed them. I had inherited his hands! Or, not.

Although I’m sure genetics played a role, I knew I hadn’t actually inherited his hands. Instead, what he’d given me was a work ethic. That, combined with time, and I suppose a little due to genetics, had given me my dad’s hands.

Since that epiphany, I’d pretty much forgotten about it—until recently. Over the Christmas holiday, my son was home for a few days, and I noticed his hands were starting to take on the same look. Apparently, I passed the working thing on to him as well—and the hands. Hope he doesn’t mind.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

SPOTLIGHT Author
 
C. S. Boyack
The Cock Of The South