The Week of Weather Crises That Never Came - Kind of Like "Grexit"
Last week days of clouds, humidity and occasional light rain were billed as "chance of severe thunderstorms" for three days. Three days passed and aside from a bit of discomfort and a spritz now and then, the neighborhood hummed along with no floods, power outages, and hardly a growl, never mind a rumble of thunder.
It's something like all the "Grexit" talk except that markets were actually a bit roiled for a some days. And yet, in the end, hardly anything very much really happened.
Not that I'm complaining or anything - at least about the weather. It's just that there's too much drama in weather forecasting these days. It's like they can't stand saying what we all know to be true. Most days follow on another with little to distinguish one from the other besides a few degrees hotter or colder, or occasional clouds and/or rain to screen out the sun once in a while. No, it's got to be the "potential for" some cataclysm always lurking behind what to the sense appears like an ordinary day.
What gives?
Maybe it's just the fact that so many of us have been pounded into human cutlets by the audio-video din that envelopes our eyes and ears, draining our brains of any internally generated content, filling them instead with spectacular images of sounds and sights of sex and violence every waking moment we're not working or sleeping We cutlets have been thinned out to the point where we've got no depth of thought or feeling anymore. So naturally we seek that splash of audio or video sauce that will give our tenderized minds, hearts, and souls at least a hint of flavor.
So why be surprised when the weathermen concoct similar spice to enliven the everyday forecast such that we don't miss a morning without getting a dose of the latest atmospheric disturbance bubbling up somewhere far out at sea or being picked up by the jet stream and carried to your front door forthwith.
Now I'm not saying we don't occasionally get a real dose of spectacular weather, and I'm not denying that when we do I'm first in line for the Weather channel or weather.com. "Winter storm" will always grab my immediate attention with the vague hope that we'll be thrust into blizzard-like conditions, especially if it means I can stay home and cook up a storm while watching the action from my front window, sipping hot chocolate until the last hours of the day call for a glass or two of whiskey.
The point here being that imbibing these overblown weather dramas represents something akin to popping viagra. Real weather lovers, like real lovers, manage just fine without the stuff.
And so when the Grexit drama returns - whether this week, next week, or next year (if the can kicking succeeds yet again), unless you're a professional trader or speculator, your best bet will likely be to pretty much ignore it - assuming your investments are balanced in some sane, rational manner designed to absorb the normal everyday shocks of a financial world in turmoil.
It's something like all the "Grexit" talk except that markets were actually a bit roiled for a some days. And yet, in the end, hardly anything very much really happened.
Not that I'm complaining or anything - at least about the weather. It's just that there's too much drama in weather forecasting these days. It's like they can't stand saying what we all know to be true. Most days follow on another with little to distinguish one from the other besides a few degrees hotter or colder, or occasional clouds and/or rain to screen out the sun once in a while. No, it's got to be the "potential for" some cataclysm always lurking behind what to the sense appears like an ordinary day.
What gives?
Maybe it's just the fact that so many of us have been pounded into human cutlets by the audio-video din that envelopes our eyes and ears, draining our brains of any internally generated content, filling them instead with spectacular images of sounds and sights of sex and violence every waking moment we're not working or sleeping We cutlets have been thinned out to the point where we've got no depth of thought or feeling anymore. So naturally we seek that splash of audio or video sauce that will give our tenderized minds, hearts, and souls at least a hint of flavor.
So why be surprised when the weathermen concoct similar spice to enliven the everyday forecast such that we don't miss a morning without getting a dose of the latest atmospheric disturbance bubbling up somewhere far out at sea or being picked up by the jet stream and carried to your front door forthwith.
Now I'm not saying we don't occasionally get a real dose of spectacular weather, and I'm not denying that when we do I'm first in line for the Weather channel or weather.com. "Winter storm" will always grab my immediate attention with the vague hope that we'll be thrust into blizzard-like conditions, especially if it means I can stay home and cook up a storm while watching the action from my front window, sipping hot chocolate until the last hours of the day call for a glass or two of whiskey.
The point here being that imbibing these overblown weather dramas represents something akin to popping viagra. Real weather lovers, like real lovers, manage just fine without the stuff.
And so when the Grexit drama returns - whether this week, next week, or next year (if the can kicking succeeds yet again), unless you're a professional trader or speculator, your best bet will likely be to pretty much ignore it - assuming your investments are balanced in some sane, rational manner designed to absorb the normal everyday shocks of a financial world in turmoil.
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