A news-watching FBvian tells us:
One of my favorite moments (which was also repeated several times) featured extensive film coverage of a big tree which fell down somewhere (Duncanville?). The on-the-spot reporter, however, was forced to concede that the tree was suffering “extensive rot” and its demise may, in fact, have been more due to the rot than the weather.
People, the terrorists win if we let the chilly weather stop us from shopping. A retailing FBvian tells us how the TV hyperbole affects his shop:
As a FrontBurnervian who handles marketing for a retail store, the area Weather Magoo’s are killing, KILLING business with their hyperbole. Granted, I’m sure the initial dire weather reports helped those of us who buy time on the local news, but at some point, the public is sick of their ice storm of death predictions, and their inane traffic wenches telling us to “stay calm!”I hope the FrontBurnervian Nation sees through the news line of ‘po-po’ and come out of their bunkers and hit the streets, and well, shop!
Glad somebody brought up the subject of our incompetent weather heads. Frankly, I think they’re in cahoots with the grocery stores. I, literally, bought into their forecasts by joining the hordes at my local Albertson’s and spending $150 on crap like canned soup. Then, when the ice failed to appear, we headed to MiCocina in Preston Forest for dinner. Any bids on a gallon of milk or this.
A FrontBurnervian who stayed home today expresses his disappointment with the local TV people:
Totally with you on the asinine performance of Dallas TV weather people this weekend. Clearly I haven’t lived in Dallas long enough to learn not to trust them in the winter. We’ve been bunkered down all weekend awaiting the Apocalypse because we thought the hysteria of the weather people had some relation to meteorological reality. Not two hours ago, Alexa Conomos actually used the words, “Stay calm!” on the air, advising the hoi polloi how to endure this blizzard. I’m sitting here at my desk at home, watching water drip off the ceiling and branches. We’re going to get the hell out of here within the hour, and take the kids somewhere, anywhere. This cabin fever is driving us nuts. I’m going to propose that we stage drive-by eggings of local TV stations, just because.By the way, the FrontBurnerfication of my children proceeds apace. My 3-year-old told his mom that “the po-po say don’t go out on the icy streets unless you have to.”
I don’t know how I made it in this morning. This is worse than anything I’ve seen on the upper plains of the Midwest. Way worse. I didn’t see one snow plow. I mean, how bad is it when snow plows don’t even want to test the terrain?
To my fiancee, trapped–trapped!–in our apartment in East Dallas, should we never see each other again, know that I love you dearly, and the first six seasons of The Simpsons are yours to keep.