Long ridiculed for their reflexive tendency to drive faster and swervier at the slightest hint of atmospheric moisture and endlessly mocked by the rest of the nation for their instinctive tendency to go bitchcakes at the mere mention of the “S” word, Americans living in the southeastern United States suffer from a severe cultural stereotype when it comes to the matter of precipitation. As a native Atlantan I can confirm that this stereotype is deserved. The mere mention of the word “flurries” by the local weatherman sends an electric thrill up and down my spine. In fact, right after I typed that last sentence I got up and went to the kitchen to drink a glass of milk and eat thirteen pieces of bread. If you’re from the south you would have probably agree with me if my use of the “F” word hadn’t made you get up from your computer and wander off to your own kitchen.
For some reason we Southerners are more reactive to meteorological events, especially in unusually rainy seasons like the one we’ve been experiencing this year. Instead of allowing the rest of the nation to ridicule us we should take the bull by the horns. Since our local news affiliates already take advantage of our weakness for inclement weather, why not give them something that personalizes it for our region? Today I am proposing that we add a new weather term to the NOAA‘s lexicon of weather terms: I want to create something called “the great American Southerncane” – or simply “Southerncane” for short.
Unlike hurricanes, which are born at sea and grow into raging monsters (ultimately crashing ashore costing millions of dollars in property damage), the Southerncane will be used to describe just about any run-of-the-mill weather system that happens to be blowing through at any time of the year, from sprinkle to downpour. If it covers more than 3 counties, it’s a Southerncane. As time goes by our natural tendency to round off words may end up seeing these storms being called “Souther-canes”, but time will tell. The Southerncane is such a terrifying beast that it can have multiple eyes, defined by any portions that light up red on the radar. Of course this will make reporting the storms needlessly confusing, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re driving 80 miles an hour through traffic trying to eat a loaf of bread and drink a gallon of milk.
What the heck, let’s give them names as well. Listed below are my early contributions, do you have any?
I’m certain that more will be added as soon as the NOAA adopts this new system.