Forecasts at press time suggest snow. Lots of it. Historic amounts. When you hear dire warnings of a snowpocalypse barreling toward the metro, do you:
1. Check the snowblower, make sure you have milk, eggs and toilet paper — not the best omelet, to be honest — and prepare for a day spent inside watching the elements lash the trees and smother the earth.
2. Shrug and figure "it'll be a dusting in Blaine."
At some point we began to lose confidence in predictions of big, bad snowstorms. How? Why?
Possibly because we remember when we were promised big snow and didn't get it. The storm lost the plot as it headed our way and ended up wandering around the southwest part of the state, dissolving in embarrassment before it got to Bloomington.
We remember when they oversold a storm last year, and the year before. It does seem to happen a lot lately:
"I'm John Crywulph with Metro Action Eyelooking Weather Central, and we're tracking the elements for the biggest storm of the season, with accumulations up to 19 feet possible in the metro!"
We only get 17 feet, so we scoff: They just had to hype it for ratings, didn't they?
It behooves the meteorologists to be as accurate as possible, because every prediction ends up as a referendum on their credibility. It's a difficult science, but it's better than relying on someone who says, "My corns are aching something fierce, and I saw a woolly caterpillar last October with fur like a Kodiak bear, and that means we're in for it."
Meteorologists are well aware that weather is a complex system whose outcomes can be predicted, but not promised. You'd think this would be a familiar concept in a place where the Vikings play.
The forecasters are predicting that a spring snowstorm is about to move into the area. Do you believe that? Let's take a poll.
