Pictures as Promised

Here you go:

Canadian River Run 2009

I Survived (fill in the blank)

Sorry for the lack of posts...busy. Had my first severe weather event in my new office and it was a doozie. Arrived at the office at 8 am for my day-shift and our team issued the first warning shortly before 3 pm. Eventually we had multiple storms that were spreading the radar operator's attention then so we split our area of responsibility in half. I worked the southern sector of our area of responsibility while two of my co-workers worked the northern half. Unfortunately this also meant I had the figure out what to do with a storm munching straight towards the Hub City. Adding to the craziness; an office towercam that allowed me to actually see the rotating wall cloud on the storm as it approached. Nothing is more unnerving that knowing you have a 50/50 chance of seeing a tornado develop in the city you live in AND watch it unfold LIVE in front of you. We lucked out...no tornado. However, 1-2" hail throughout the southern part of the city did it's damage. Mother nature also decided to "ice the cake" by producing one confirmed tornado northwest of the city which one of our employees was urgently sent out to chase from his home (which I had to vector him in via ham radio and radar data). Turned out to be a stovepipe tornado that hit some power lines to light things up. Ended up leaving the office at midnight on an adrenaline rush and without a voice.

Trying to sleep was a chore since not only was coming down from an adrenaline high, but also the stress of working the event. A fitful 4 hours of sleep later, the alarm went off for me to head back up to the office for damage surveys. This is how we "rate" a tornado's intensity; by the damage that is done. When you watch the boob tube and hear the EF-scale, that is what they are talking about; the intensity of the tornado as rated by damage on the Enhanced Fujita Scale. Our survey team headed down to Justiceburg and outside of Girard. The survey out to Justiceburg resulted in multiple reports of large hail and the disturbing sight of 100-200 moble homes close to Lake Alan Henry (a disaster waiting to happen IMNSHO). Several reports of funnel clouds, or "fingers" from many of the folks we talked to (thanks Twister). As for the survey west of Girard; there was N O T H I N G for possible tornadoes to hit. Seriously. A few power lines, a few center pivots, a few mesquites, and LOTS of open fields. Again, no way to really confirm a tornado from the ground but aerial surveys are next to impossible to get nowadays thanks to guv'ment red tape. Once we returned to the home office, I rushed home to get things ready for our annual Canadian River Run.

Needing to unwind from the aforementioned severe weather event, I didn't want to make an early go Saturday morning and instead left Friday evening to have a full day of wheelin' and time with my good friends from across the U.S. It is always fun showing up when no one expects to see you...but not so fun trying to find a level spot for a tent in the dark! I did O.K. and although my feet felt as if they were frozen in blocks of ice, I collapsed after getting very little sleep over a two day period. Saturday morning, after airing down the tires and disconnecting the swaybar, the rock-climbing fun began! Wheel stands, aggressive lines, and even some interesting all 5 tires on the ground began to take place. After lunch however, I managed to have a good scare; I nearly rolled my Jeep down the trail when I was attempting to get un-stuck on a ledge. Based on the hoots and hollers, as well as my best friends eyes being as big as dinner plates, indicated that at some point I had the front two tires in the air at nearly a 90 degree angle to the ground. Expeditious use of the go-pedal safely planted all four tires on the ground but not before I nearly had a heart attack from adrenaline overload and fear combined. Needing a couple of minutes to recover, I sat there in the Jeep, said a few prayers of thanksgiving, and finally got up the obstacle...this time with a safety line attached. The rest of the day, well, lets say I decided to take the easier trails around the area.

So now it is back to the grind of shiftwork, unpacking from the off-road trip, seeing what all is broken on the Jeep (nothing so far!), and continuing to fight the battle with the home warranty company to try and finally get my drywall fixed. I'm working on the pictures from the River Run as I type this (figuratively of course...I needed a break from Photoshop) so tuned for those.

Flash Flood...In My House!

I spent most of Friday afternoon outside; I had the day off and it was a rare non-dusty day even though the breeze had kicked up. I figured it would be better to mow the lawn and choke on just the pollen and dirt that had been kicked around recently rather than add additional dust that had come in from New Mexico as was forecast to happen on Saturday. Having a three day weekend also made it a great time to get caught up and ready for our annual Canadian River Run in a couple of weeks as well as (finally) change the Z71 over to Mobil 1 synthetic to try and boost the gas mileage as much as I could. So, I had spent a full day outside, was covered in grass clippings, dust, and the noxious smell of gasoline and 2-stroke engine exhaust. The hot shower felt rather good!

Having forgotten a few items on my last grocery store trip as well as needing to get oil/filters for both the Jeep and Z71, I headed out Saturday afternoon to round up all the stuff. Realizing that I did in fact buy items needing refrigeration, I swung by the house since it was on the way to O'Reilly Auto Parts (WalMart was sold out of both 10W and 5W-30 oil!) but perhaps it was divine intervention (it turns out O'Reillys had the oil about $2 cheaper for a 4-quart container and 75 cents cheaper for 1-quart...but I digress). When I pulled into the garage, I noticed water pooled on the floor, along the wall, and in my garage closet. Several "colorful adjectives" flew out of my mouth in quick succession and I swung open the water heater closet doors only to find things dry as a bone. Running into the house, I could see where water had seeped under the wall and where the grout was wet in the laundry closet but all the hoses to the washing machine were dry. Thoughts went from leaking hot water heater to busted pipe in the slab. Next I ran into my bedroom to find that, yes, the carpet sounded like walking in the Canadian River mud...sopping wet.

Not knowing what was going on, I went and shut off the water to the whole house. Fortunately I have a homeowner's warranty from when I bought this house so the next call was to the warranty company to file an emergency repair order. Unfortunately the automated system wouldn't escalate up to an emergency so I had to spend 15 minutes or so on a second call trying to get to an actual person. Luck was on my side and I was able to get the service request upgraded to emergency after talking with a very helpful and responsive gal named Valencia (THANK YOU!). The difference you ask? Having to wait until Monday for a plumber to come out versus the next day. Once all this was done by 7 pm, I made one last trip over to Home Depot to rent a wet-vac since mine disappeared during the move (can't complain; was the most expensive of 3 items that disappeared...). The rest of the evening was spent trying to suck up as much moisture out of the carpet and pad as I could...about 2 full tanks of water.

At 11 am, the plumber came to the house and opened up the shutoff valve. Only problem was the meter wasn't spinning. I say problem; it was good because that meant it wasn't a leak in the slab. Bad news was he still had to track the problem down or I'd end up paying all the emergency fees. The next test was to run something through the washing machine and that did the trick. No sooner did he turn on the hot cycle and he could see water running underneath the water heater closet (it also holds my A/C and the return-air registers feed underneath there). Unfortunately came the part where he had to rip out some drywall.

Here is the culprit:
The leaking section was about 4 feet up from the elbow or about halfway between the hot water heater and elbow to distribute hot water through the house. Only problem was that the access to this busted pipe was through the laundry room wall:
After two hours, the leak is fixed and I now have hot water...but I lost an entire day of my weekend waiting for the plumber and continuing to try and mitigate the "flood" damage in my bedroom. I also have to wait for the home warranty company to schedule a drywall person to come in and rough-out patches to the drywall. The insurance adjuster will also be called Monday...unfortunately my attempt to vacuum up the water and then steam clean must not have been good enough even in this arid climate I live in. I'm starting to smell mold/mildew in there so it looks like I'll have to see what can be done. It never fails...just as soon as I plink down quite a bit of moolah for ham radio and stormchasing gear, something major breaks. My house now looks and smells ghetto...a cut up trash bag with painters tape covering the holes in the drywall with the smell of wet carpet in part of the house.

Hopefully it won't interrupt a trip to the Hill Country this week...I need the break!

How I Hate Parking

Sorry for the lack of posts...lots going on at work and on the home front. The weather hasn't helped; a cycle of one day warm weather and (relatively) calm winds spent outside (if not at work), then a day of strong westerly winds and blowing dust spent inside practicing on the electric guitar and enjoying my DVR (if not at work), then a day of strong northerly/northwesterly winds and colder again spent inside the garage or enjoying Fox Soccer Channel (if not at work), and then repeat on a 3 to 4 day cycle. It also seems that the nice days; warm temps and "light" winds; are usually when I'm having to work and the crappy days are when I am off. Oh well...such is the life of shiftwork.

Anyway, I had to make a grocery run the other day and I had to take the pickup out since the Jeep has some funky steering problems (likely a loose steering stabilizer or bad upper ball joint) recently. Although I've had the Z71 for three full months, I'm still trying to learn how to park it. Unfortunately the parking lot was pretty full but I saw what I thought was an open space. When I got down the aisle, well, I'll let my friends from XKCD explain my feelings and thoughts...

Not Quite Out and Down for the Count...

Sunday Morning around 4 AM. That is when this most recent hell started. Something I ate disagreed with me prompting a quick scramble to the bathroom. Dunno what triggered this round of dysentery but it was one of the worst cases of food poisoning I have had. In a LOOOOOONG time. The second and third days were not too bad but then yesterday morning I felt like I had been thrown under the bus. I'll spare the details but it wasn't bad but not pretty at the same time. With most (suspected) cases of food poisoning, I usually feel better after a day or two. This time was different. After four days of dealing with whatever I came down with, I finally decided to go see a doctor.

See, I hate doctor visits. Needles and I are not good friends nor do I enjoy being poked and prodded (especially when I feel like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man). When the nurse was in the exam room getting the vital stats, there was no cheery conversation; just answers of yes, no, I don't know, and other pertinent health info. Finally the doctor walked in and asked all the SAME questions over as the nurse apparently didn't enter them into the form properly. Bugs caught from camping or going out of the country were ruled out, but the Doc was concerned as I was running a 100-degree fever so there was some kind of infection I'm probably fighting. More tests and a prescription for antibiotics and hopefully I'll be on the mend. The only other issue was family genetics have finally caught up with me; when looking over my blood pressure he was concerned that it was high. This runs on my Dad's side of the family; but it also didn't help that I felt like crap AND had just come from my unnamed employer where I had just spent three hard hours trying to figure out what kind of products/advisories we should have out. Yeah, just a bit stressful at work this morning and afternoon so cut me some slack on the blood pressure levels. Try measuring again when I'm on a day off and have had a solid eight-hour sleep...

So, I came home and had a B.R.A.T.-style dinner with Gatorade and a bottle of water. I'm fixing to start the (apparently super-strong) antibiotics and go to bed. At 8:30 in the P.M. Hopefully I'll finally sleep through the night, wake up refreshed and feeling better, see no ice or snow on the ground, and can get to the e-mails that I've let pile up over the last 4 days. Sorry about that gents...amazing what a not-so-little stomach bug can mess up. I'm also tired of bland food; smelling co-worker's meals isn't fair to someone who cannot enjoy the tasty goodness of "real" food. When I finally kick this bug, it will be time for some serious TexMex to make sure it is totally gone!

Fort Worth, Then and Now

I was fortunate enough to take a couple of extra days to visit a relative who lives on the east side of the Metromess on my recent trip down there. The extra days also allowed me to spend one full day driving around Fort Worth to reminisce about all the good and bad times, the long-haul drive from the house I grew up in to the magnet schools I attended, and various locations that provided those childhood lessons that seemed unnecessary but now are viewed as important life lessons. Much has changed; I thought I was lost when driving west on I-30 and seeing the new Cowboys super-mega-damn-the-recession-Jerry-Jones-showing-off Stadium which made me think I was on Loop 12 heading towards Irving, the newest addition to the Fort Worth skyline throwing me for a loop, redevelopment of my childhood playground, and the incessant expansion of the city towards the southwest (Bryant Irving, Alta Mesa, Benbrook Drives to name a few). However, many important places still remain and still appear just as they have in my mind for so long.

Kincaid's Burgers still is in the old grocery store and serving up some of the best hamburgers in town, the elementary school still looks the same from the front (although has been expanded multiple times in the back, my childhood home still looks the same, Ridgemar Mall still has the one parking lot where Dad and I would go and sit for hours watching the various bombers and fighters take off from Carswell Air Force Base (now known as Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base Fort Worth Carswell/NASJRBFWC...and NOAA thinks it has the run on acronyms), and all the soccer complexes that countless Saturday mornings were spent at in my much younger years still show signs of generations of kids running across them. The local "Bureau" office still stands a bit out of place buried in an area of industrial warehouses, but with a minor addition of some horses that they can now count as neighbors.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to take a ride through Downtown to see Sundance Square and then north into the Stockyards as I am still trying to get the hang of driving the pick-up in urban traffic. There were some accidents that afternoon that would have required creative navigation among the skyscrapers and parking lots of Downtown. That in and of itself would need a sharp recall of what streets were one-way or not, and it has been WAY too long since I had done that...but I digress. I would have loved to have gone back to the old Fort Worth National/Texas American Bank building and taken a picture in the room that used to be my Dad's office to see what had become of this childhood playground (on weekends when I'd go with Dad if he had some catch-up work to do and I still remember the view from the windows). I can still remember the taste of the burgers from Billy Miner's Saloon and hear the crunch of the peanut shells on the floor, the aroma of Chicago-style deep dish pizza at Uno's Pizzaria, and the fried alligator and jambalaya from Razzoo's Cajun Cafe. However, it is satisfying to know that those locations still stand as a reminder, a beacon perhaps, of childhood days gone by and the opportunity to recall various memories with the full sensory experience they can provide.

Alas, the weekend was too short. I would have loved spending a couple of evenings at The Flying Saucer with many of the people I saw at Al's retirement dinner, again reminiscing of storm chases gone past, the prospects of the upcoming chasing, and various other hobbies or state-of-the-world discussions that inevitably come up over a stein of whatever your favorite brew in the world is. Unfortunately the real-world beckoned and the time-warp started as I drove west on I-20 that Saturday; all the drives from Fort Worth to grad school seemed to compress as the miles clicked down, all the memories of people I have met and interacted with started speeding by at a fast pace, and then I arrived in the present on the South Plains. And now it is back to the grind; a week chocked full of conference-calls, webinars, staff meetings, and shift work.

Keep the places where the West did begin for me Fort Worth; don't let the folks to your east try to change you at all...

Farewell to a mentor, teacher, and good friend

I return to the South Plains filled with a mix of emotions after spending the last two days in the Metroplex. The trip was an opportunity to visit my sister for an evening, to see an old family friend, but most importantly to see someone off for the start of his retirement.

In the summer of 1994, I walked into "The Bureau" as a wet-behind-the-ear junior in high school who had an insatiable desire to become a meteorologist. After the introductory tour and explanation of what I was going to be doing, I started to meet my fellow co-workers. When the next shift came in, a gentleman walked in with a red Rubbermaid box in hand and quickly started getting a briefing on what the state of the weather was. One of my fellow SCEPs leaned over and whispered "Do you know who that is?" to which I, very much a rookie in the weather world replied "Should I?". Her response: "That's Al Moller."

And so began five years of mentoring and teaching while I worked in the summers at the North Texas "Bureau" office. However, it was also the start of a friendship that went beyond meteorology...into love of baseball, photography, stormchasing, and Texas blues music. Al was the one that (patiently) taught me the intricacies of hand analysis, took me on my first stormchase, and challenged me to apply what I was learning in my college career to my job at "the Bureau". Through these activities, I was able to develop a finer appreciation of our common interests as well as meet many people in the research and stormchasing communities that I now consider my friends as well. We would usually run into each other at least once or twice each year through stormchasing, workshops, or conferences and it never failed that he would find some way to challenge my mental picture of meteorological processes or discuss whether the upcoming spring would be a banner year for wildflowers in the Hill Country. He would also continue to remind me to not give into the meteorological cancer that continues to permeate the organization I work for and would reinforce the fact that I had to be one of the people to keep "meteorology" alive. That sometimes seems impossible but if Al could do it for 34 years, so can I.

You see, Al is the kind of man who would make the impossible happen. In the summer of 1996, Al and I were working graveyard shifts shortly before the Memorial Day weekend started. We were discussing the favorable pattern for chasing coming up but I lamented that I didn't feel I had enough experience to chase on my own, but that didn't matter because I would be without a vehicle that weekend anyway. The second to last mid-shift, Al came up and said that I needed to pack enough clothes for four days and I should bring it with me to work the next day. He had taken it upon himself to contact a fellow chaser and arrange for us to meet up in Amarillo so I could go stormchasing that weekend! The morning of May 24th, Al and I headed up "The Highway to Stormchasing Heaven" as he called it (Highway 287) to Amarillo after our mid shift. As we headed up there, Al informed me that we would be meeting his chase partner and that my ride wouldn't arrive until the following morning. His advice was to keep quiet in the back seat, talk only if asked a question, and most importantly listen. I knew of this person only by name from the various papers and manuscripts Al had me study for the previous two summers. This probably wasn't the best way to be introduced to CAD III but Al took that chance and I am definitely a better forecaster and chaser because of the example of these two men. The arguments discussions they had that afternoon and evening while we chased storms in the Panhandle of Texas probably tought me more about scientific debate and storm morphology than the previous two years combined ever did.

Unfortunately I was not able to remind Al of this experience when I arrived at the party. When I was finally able to take my turn and give him my congratulations on his retirement and thanks for all he has done for me and taught me, I could see in his eyes that the neurons weren't connecting and that I was a stranger to him once again. All I can do is shake my head and wonder why crappy things happen to good people. As much as it hurts to think that the past 15 years might have faded into the sunset of his mind, it also increases my resolve to live the example that Al set forth for me. Zeal is what I have decided is the best one-word description; tireless passion for what I do, continuing to pull science into operational meteorology as he did, but most importantly to share those things and more with others.

To Al Moller; mentor, co-worker, teacher, and friend - thank you for all that you've done and introduced me to. For the mutual friends we have and for the knowledge that you have bestowed on me to share with the next generation of meteorologists. May your retirement be a "long journey into the sunset of life" under many a supercell on the plains.

I Hate Ice

Don't get me wrong, frozen forms of precipitation are good for some things especially when this frozen precipitation falls in the form of big fluffy flakes. Snow is wonderful because without it we wouldn't be able to enjoy skiing, snowmen, snow caves (something I have YET to be able to do), snow cones, or snow angels. On the opposite end of the spectrum is the large form of frozen precipitation; hail. This is a bit more dangerous as anything larger than dimes can cause some serious problems. Yes, ask any cotton or corn farmer in the Llano Estacado or the portion of the High Plains in the Panhandles and you will hear them say dime size hail can ruin a crop through the seedling stages. Then you get the big end of hail, the softball to holy-crap-it-is-punching-holes-in-the-roof which doesn't care about whether the material under it's fall is man-made or a part of nature. Typically, the monstrous hail falls with severe thunderstorms as strong updrafts are needed to support large hailstone formation which is a whole different realm of mother nature...

However, there is tiny range of frozen precipitation that I personally cannot stand. This often arrives in forms varying from a fine mist/fog/drizzle that occurs with temperatures below freezing, or when the temperatures profiles in the atmosphere favors sleet (properly coded as ice pellets), and the worst of all: freezing rain. My personal dislike for these hellacious forms of precipitation rise from the fact that there is little a city can do to lessen the impacts from various problems that arise (slick roadways, downed power lines, etc. since this accumulates and cannot be plowed away like snow) and it turns my normally easy 5 minute drive to work into a 15 minute, stress-inducing, profanity laced ordeal. Likewise, any form of winter weather warning/advisory that goes out induces a sense of mass hysteria among the residents and thus a run on local grocery stores ensues. It is as if people believe they will run out of bread and milk (and for those of the college age in this town - beer) in the 3 days of wintry precipitation and they have to hoard as much as they can. Store shelves and coolers are picked clean of the essentials and the stress and profanity move indoors as impatient people try to rush through the line in order to get home before the arrival of the end-of-the-world, cataclysmic, biblical end times winter weather.

Sidebar - In my town, a fair amount of people have "so called" 4x4/four-wheel drive/all-wheel drive vehicles and the majority of these are in the pickup/truck form. I say "so called" because 90% of these vehicles are in reality 2-wheel drive thanks to open differentials, another 8% are "2.5" wheel drive thanks to limited slip diffs, with another 1% some combination of open/limited slip/locked differentials yielding a "3" wheel drive. Finally rounding out the group is the 1% that have "true" four-wheel drive where both the front and rear differentials are "locked". (Note: all percentages are wild a$$ guesses). My pickup right now is a 2.5 wheel drive (open front, limited slip rear) while the Jeep is a true 4x4, locked front and rear but I digress.

My point is that via personal observation, the people around here assume 4x4/four-wheel/all-wheel drive means "damn the road conditions, I can drive the speed limit because I'm in a 4x4!". This lack of understanding in their vehicle plus an apparent tendency for people to generally disregard traffic rules (and common sense) yields a portion of the population who are a greater danger to the rest of the residents. The drive in both yesterday and this morning was spent watching out for everyone else and avoiding those fishtailing down the major roads while I plugged along at what I felt was a personally safe pace (25 in a 45 isn't too bad...). However, I was mildly humored with the expressions on the faces of people who had experienced temporary loss of vehicular control...some of whom probably needed to go home and change their pants.

Unfortunately, the hardest part happens while I am at work. Forecasting wintry precipitation in this neck-of-the-woods is part skill but majority luck. A difference in 100 miles can mean the difference between the fluffy stuff or the scrape half an inch of ice off the windshield stuff. In some cases (such as Tuesday), a 25 mile distance can mean the difference between flurries and accumulating sleet. Although my gut instinct is that the majority of the population could care less about our forecasts, there is at least a small minority that does check our forecasts and it is for those people I am trying to figure out what can happen. Walking into the forecast desk Monday was nothing but utter stress and chaos; phone ringing, hand analysis to do, a quick glance at the incoming forecast models, and then a decision on what kind of product to issue 3 hours into the shift to start the aforementioned mass hysteria in the general public. When I walked out the door at 4:30 pm, I ached from the stress of trying to forecast frozen hell falling from the sky and from trying to see the microscale features in the data that could make or break the forecast.

I can handle stress; convective severe weather events are a yearly reminder of that. Yeah I might have a few more gray hairs mixed in with whatever hasn't decided to fall out, I might develop a stomach ulcer or two from drinking too much caffeine (a la 2007 severe weather season in the Top 'o Tejas) during a prolonged period of active weather, and I might pass out for 24 hours when I need to catch up on sleep. However, the stress during convective events is of a different variety than in this icy hell. Severe weather usually lasts for a brief window whereas wintry precipitation can continue for days on end. Give me 12 hours of tornadoes, hail, lightning, winds, and flooding compared to 72 hours of sub-freezing, whiteout inducing, slip and sliding crap.

Give me 3 feet of snow and not this eigth-inch of ice that coats every surface. Let me plow through powdery bliss in my Jeep and not play a game of ice capade chicken on the roads. Did I mention it is going to be 55 degrees today??? All my troubles will literally melt away...

A Disappearing Art in the Science of Meteorology

I was blown away when I realized that this year marks 10 years since I graduated from college with a hard-earned degree in Meteorology. To make me feel even older; I realized that this summer will also mark 15 years with "The Bureau" (unfortunately the first 4 of which apparently don't count towards my retirement date). When I first started back in 1994, the state of The Bureau was considerably different; PCs were just entering the scene, we were still using a computer system known as AFOS that was designed by Ford Aerospace and was VERY finicky, and the NEXRAD radar had just entered the scene. The majority of the weather analysis was done with the MK I eyeball, an assortment of colored pencils, basic printouts on a facsimile printer which could result in a bit of a buzz due to the ink used, and an occasional walk to the window to see what was going on outside right now.

Meteorology is a science but within the science is something that has a bit of artistic value. Our depiction of weather conditions at the surface and at various levels in the atmosphere was and can still be created by doing hand analysis. This involves looking at a "standard plot" of surface data and contouring the important parameters; pressure, temperature, and dewpoint. Other parameters such as 3-hourly pressure change can be plotted as well. Finally frontal positions can be derived from the data and contours. Likewise, analysis of upper-air data reveals information about the structure and layout of parameters at given levels at the atmosphere.

Unfortunately, hand analysis is a dying artform within our science. It has rapidly been supplanted by computerized objective analysis as hand analysis can take considerably longer than a computer chomping through the data. Although quality checks of the data are improving and have aided in the accuracy of an computer analysis, there are still times a bad observation/data point can sneak through and blow the objective analysis out of the water. It boggles my mind to think that there are generations of meteorologists coming out of various programs in the U.S. that are no longer teaching such a basic form of weather forecasting. They are taught to trust the computer analysis and use the "extra" time for outreach, teletraining sessions, or the generic "professional development".

I didn't realize how rampant this problem was until I had an intern walk up to me while I was working on a hand analysis of surface and upper-air data. He asked why I was wasting my time drawing with colored pencils when the computer version was already done and available. My response was with my own series of questions, which I will also now pose to other "young'uns" who might be reading this. Let's say AWIPS systems are down and the only thing you have access to is the internet. I will not pose the most difficult scenario of having to download all the raw observations and make your own surface map, but say that the only sites you can access are those which have the data pre-plotted on their standard models. Would you be able to create a short-term/12 hour forecast based on that data alone? The reply I got was a rambling statement of how the scenario I posed was highly unlikely and that we could always call another office to get the forecast we needed, blah, blah, blah...all to keep from having to admit that he had no clue nor interest on how to do a basic hand analysis.

Call me "old school". Hand analysis is one of the easiest ways for a meteorologist to get a feel for the basic state of the atmosphere and what might happen in the next few hours. A detailed hand analysis can also reveal subtle features that the models might miss by getting their first guess of conditions (known as model initialization) wrong. With almost 15 years of perusing data via hand analysis, certain features start to appear which is known as pattern recognition; current maps reflect a pattern seen with previous weather systems which means the potential exists for the same kind of weather event to unfold. I would venture to say that combining a firm grasp of what is going on currently plus the various forecast models (computer simulations) of what the weather might be can result in a MUCH better forecast in the first 24 hours than looking at a computer model alone.

So, to my mentors from our collective time at the Bureau office in the northern part of the western Metromess; my sincerest thanks for establishing a firm foot in that wonderful art of hand analysis. Al Moller, your retirement is a great loss for the younger meteorologists coming into the Bureau as your guidance in my early stages of learning hand analysis were priceless. My thanks also go to the late Dr. Dusan Djuric, my METR451 instructor who required map analysis and discussion at the start of every lab day and for his textbook which covers the basics of hand analysis as well as more complex items. All those countless days with various colors rubbed onto the palm of my drawing hand and discussion of what those maps showed have helped me perform the most basic part of my job through all these years; forecasting the weather. To all you young'uns who think it is a waste of time - you are only as good of a meteorologist as you make yourself to be. Take the time to learn hand analysis; it will help you out more than you know...

Merry Christmas and working the New Year

As always, the best made plans go awry as events unfold in ones daily life. I really had wanted this year to keep the blog updated much more often than I do (such as my friend Academomia who is juggling much more in life than I am! Hang in there, the dissertation will turn out well.). Perhaps this just goes to show where my priorities are; NOT in updating this blog...

ANYWAY, it has been a bit crazy schedule-wise with all that has been going on the last three weeks. The workshop in Norman went well; I learned truly how slow the government moves on certain things. However, the trip presented an opportunity to get caught up with friends I haven't seen in many years as well as making a few new ones. Unfortunately I did return with a souvenier - a weak cold that wasn't enough to knock me totally out but I was dealing with congestion and a stuffy nose for three days. Not having found a doctor yet was the largest reason I didn't seek help from antibiotics for what possibly was a sinus infection but plenty of fluids, Vitamin C, and chicken noodle soup helped to ward off the cold and I was (unfortunately???) well enough to work my round of graveyard shifts. Oh well...

During this time I was also pondering a vehicle to replace the Exploder, doing all my Christmas shopping (only having to brave the mass hordes at Best Buy and Barnes & Noble), and trying to pack for my trip home all while working my crazy schedule. Then there were the Christmas parties, a couple of going-away dinners for a good friend and co-worker, and the occasional snap of cold weather to deal with. All these things going on made the time before I left for home fly by in a hurry and before I knew it, it was time to head for the Hill Country. But I had to make a detour to Frederickburg on my way home.

What was the detour for you ask? Meet my new mode of transportation:
This is my 2006 Chevrolet K1500 Silverado 4x4 with the Z71 package. 30,130 miles when I bought it, and is in excellent condition. The only two things it is missing that I really wanted were XM radio and bucket seats in the front. However, these were small items and decided not to risk passing this vehicle up. Many thanks to Zimmermann Truck and Auto Sales for finding the vehicle closest to what I wanted in the price range I was willing to plink out. So, the Explorer has been put out to pasture after 160,579 miles, one unintended wedding present, and a trip to the Canadian River. Now for a couple of months of lean living and tight spending...

After this purchase, it was finally time to head home and enjoy my week-long Christmas vacation with the family. I can tell it was a good time as I regained the 5 lbs I had lost the previous couple of weeks, came back with the Christmas bounty, left only two tags on my hunting license (out of the 4 I had when I arrived), and all the jokes, fun, and love shared with family memebers. There was also some shooting with my XDM (results scanned in soon), some hand loading for friends and family, and a LOT of reading. My book reccomendation from this trip: The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis.

Last but not least was some photography. This is just a subset of what I have...I'm still sorting through the images and doing minimal post-editing (sharpening, contrast, image resize, and copyright). Enjoy:

Give them another couple of years. They'll be mighty nice, that is if the neighbors won't get to them first...

A porcelain tree my grandmother made before she passed away.

My 2008 Hallmark Ornament series installment.

Yeah, I was playing around on this one and managed to catch myself in the reflection.

So, now to look ahead to 2009. Unfortunately I will have to work through New Years Day so my celebrating New Years Eve will not last through Midnight. Something about having to get up for a day shift on 6 hours sleep doesn't sound like fun. As for resolutions...I'll have to think about those for a while as I probably batted around .500 this year.

Merry Christmas and may 2009 be full of blessings and joy for y'all. And now to return to watching the Cowboys playing with Ducks in the Pacific Life Holiday Bowl in San Diego.