That’s what they said. “Exceptional snow likely”.
In the weather report. And in the newspaper.
But they didn’t say what they meant, exactly, by the word “exceptional”.
“Exceptional” can mean a lot of different things.
There was a time when I was considered exceptional. In second grade, in fact. The teacher told my mother that, according to some observations and tests that had been administered (without my knowledge) the school had determined that I was exceptional.
I mistakenly believed that being labeled “exceptional” was a badge of honor. That I was exceptionally bright. Exceptionally clever, or maybe exceptionally talented.
It took me a few years to understand that “exceptional” — in my case — meant “exceptionally difficult to teach.”
This experience left me leery of how labels are used by people in authority. Like meteorologists, for instance. The people with authority over the weather.
I’m thinking this morning, about what they meant by “exceptional snow likely”. Looking out the window, at what took place last night. Was that snow really “exceptional”?
I have to say, it looked like ordinary, everyday snow to me.
According to the weather reports, the snow was supposed to arrive in generous amounts. I would kindly point out that a ‘Supersized’ order of fries at McDonalds, back when you could still get a ‘Supersized’ order, was supposed to arrive in generous amounts, but I would never use that as an excuse to call their fries ‘exceptional’.
When I actually went outside this morning to see what the meteorologists thought was so ‘exceptional’, what a let-down. I brought along my tape measure, of course. I always keep a tape measure in my jacket, because you never know when you will need to measure something. Like the sandwich at the Subway sandwich shop. Is it really a ‘foot long’? Having a tape measure handy can help you win a lot of arguments.
Anyway, I measured the snow on the roof of my car, and it was, like, less than two inches.
Was it ‘exceptional’ because the wind was blowing extra hard? Not really. When I went to bed last night, I was imagining two-foot drifts smashed up against my front door by 50 MPH winds. Didn’t happen. While I was measuring the roof of my car, all I felt was a gentle breeze.
Maybe the snow was supposed to be “exceptionally cold”? Or “exceptionally wet”?
Not that I could tell.
The only thing “exceptional” about this morning is, the public schools called a ‘snow day’ on account of less than two inches of snow. To quote from their website:
School and all activities have been canceled today, Wednesday, February 22, due to inclement weather.
Calling a ‘snow day’ on account of less than two inches of snow seems like a decision made by an “exceptional” school system.
So maybe that’s what was “exceptional” about the storm of Wednesday, February 22? It was an exceptionally weak reason to have an exceptionally fun day outside.
But I would kindly point out, that it’s “exceptionally difficult to teach” children when they are spending the day sledding.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.