My friend Steve, who lives in Spartanburg, SC, loves weather, snow in particular— something that's rare in the Piedmont area of the state where he lives; he's been known to drop everything & take off for the mountains in the hopes of getting snowed in. Steve spends a lot of time on arcane weather sites discussing weather patterns. He probably knows as much about meterology (not the study of meteors, oddly enough) as people with a degree in the subject.
Years ago, when he first got a phone after living in the woods without one, his phone bill came in a box, it was so many pages long, of thousands of 15c calls to weather services in every part of the country. He just loved that recorded announcement of time & temperature.
He also just published (his first ever) a beautiful piece about hoping for a white Christmas, in a book by Spartanburg area writers, called Hub for the Holidays.
Not sure I ever told him about the Weather Ball of Sioux Falls. It was on top of the First National Bank and gave the forecast with its colors. You heard the jingles all the time, with a dit-dit-dit organ in the background:
Weather Ball, emerald green—forecast says no change foreseen.
Weather Ball, red as fire—temperature is going higher.
Weather Ball, white as snow—down the temperature will go.
When colors blink in agitation, there's going to be precipitation.
Watch - the - Ball!
I can sing it for anyone who needs to get that tune stuck in their head for the next 50 years. Let me know.
Years ago, when he first got a phone after living in the woods without one, his phone bill came in a box, it was so many pages long, of thousands of 15c calls to weather services in every part of the country. He just loved that recorded announcement of time & temperature.
He also just published (his first ever) a beautiful piece about hoping for a white Christmas, in a book by Spartanburg area writers, called Hub for the Holidays.
Not sure I ever told him about the Weather Ball of Sioux Falls. It was on top of the First National Bank and gave the forecast with its colors. You heard the jingles all the time, with a dit-dit-dit organ in the background:
Weather Ball, emerald green—forecast says no change foreseen.
Weather Ball, red as fire—temperature is going higher.
Weather Ball, white as snow—down the temperature will go.
When colors blink in agitation, there's going to be precipitation.
Watch - the - Ball!
I can sing it for anyone who needs to get that tune stuck in their head for the next 50 years. Let me know.