ABOUT THIS TIME every year, the boss would stick his head out of his office, see which unfortunate victim was still sitting at his or her desk, then fire off an email. It would be titled "Weather Story." If my name was on it, I'd start cursing and wondering what I'd done to piss him off.
I. Hated. Weather. Stories. To me, it was pretty simple. It's hot, so stay inside, drink liquids, run in the early morning, drink liquids, don't mow your lawn, wear sunscreen, drink liquids, blah blah blah. In other words, have common sense.
So I'd grit my teeth and do it. I understood it. A daily paper needed daily stories, and people liked to know about the weather. It wasn't hard to do - everybody has to deal with the weather, and in Quincy we got used to 100 degree summer days.
Sure enough, yesterday's Whig had a front page story about the hot weather. I didn't see the name of the reporter who evidently didn't duck in time and was chosen for the honor.
I seem to remember during my last summer at the paper five years ago doing a story and then doing a video at Indian Mounds Pool. I put the camera in a plastic bag and went down the water slide. Later, Steve Eighinger and I did a bit at Sheridan for our legendary "Perfect 10" segment. It was all about getting the story, right?
It's hot. Stay inside. Drink a lot, preferably water. Or, do what we are doing soon - flee north and find a beach that time forgot.
It's big news, you know.
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