Swirleys

That’s weird; like a fucked up Aurora borialis. That’s weird. Or maybe a drunk God; weird. I haven’t even seen some of these colors before and I’ve seen weird shit. Hell, in this profession, who hasn’t? Shit like haboobs, mud slides, thunder snow, double rainbows, mud floods, but nothing like this. Damn it. Only a nut job would go chasing a storm; then I’m THE nut job. Hell, I’m the probational meteorologist so that’s my job: Smile and calm the morons down. This storm (if that’s what it is? is like Jackson Pollock on LSD, weird, but it’s far away. Maybe the wind’ll switch directions and it won’t come here. Have to chase it then. Or maybe it’ll be a magical storm and we’ll record it into . . . “Hey, morons. Is somebody recording this?” They were; thank God. These people would forget to breathe if they didn’t have it written down, but they remembered and even had the camera on, lens off, and pointing in the right direction. It’s WiFi so don’t need vhs tapes.

People like change but only if they’re controlling it. People like to move the a new house if they’ve decided to move, not if they’re evicted. No one controls the weather, only how they respond.

And we got a Houdini here; In the middle of recording it, the storm disappeared. Have the weather wardrobe people dress me and the stylist do my hair. ‘Cause you know, it’s important for a weather person to have great hair, even if it’ll be “blowing in the wind” along with the goddamn answers. Just ask Bob Dylen. I’m a meteorologist you morons, not a model. Whatever. That’s the station’s protocol. Station has morons as supervisors.

Put on the fake smile and get out the green screen. And, before we start, we need to watch the video of this thing so we can name it or describe it or something. Call up the OED and have those morons name it. Never seen something like this. God’s having a petit mal, right? Then, young moron points his/her finger and it’s changed colors but it’s back which means fuck the green screen; we’re going live

Camera person does the countdown out loud until 5, and then counts with their fingers. Typical.

“I’m meteorologist, Don Cannon, and we are viewing an unusual weather phenomenon; perhaps a small cyclone and I’ve never seen these colors before. It also appears to disappear and change from clockwise to counterclockwise at random. Hey, this might interest those in the White House looking for aliens. But seriously, I’ve been doing meteorology for 20 years and I’ve never seen this. It also appears, disappears, then reappears. We’re not sure why yet.”

*

“Wait a minute. Why’d they cut me off. This was a great story and . . . Ok. It must be a new weather phenomenon then because it was just here and the camera people. . . But she just said. You didn’t? But. Let me look at the first recording. Yes, now.

See; it’s there; plain as day and then it disappeared. I am looking at the tape. Ok. Fine. I’m just a fucking intern, I’ll go home. Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night. What? No, I’m awake enough to drive home, I . . . Walk a straight line? Why? I’m awake. I had 8 cups of coffee this morning. Fine.

*

Fine, you’re the one “Driving Miss Daisy” and I’m Miss Daisy. How I supposed to get back to this place with this crazy weather to get my car when we’re driving in your car? Idiots. That’s why I need a professional team like I used to have. No one cares about my hair, they let me report the weather and take my own goddamn car back home. Yes, I know I couldn’t because I’m tired. Yes, I do have aspirin, but . . . Nevermind.

*

Got my keys and got inside. Turned on the goddamn tv to the Weather Channel where I know the shit I saw and recorded will be all over. Turn it on and it’s anticlimactic. Places have rain, sun, there’s a weather front. Then they show Missouri and I see it: The weird colors, the cyclones: what I saw before and the meteorologist ain’t saying nothing. She’s smiling and saying to enjoy the sunshine. WTF? Turn around; see the swirled things. But, she doesn’t. There’s trash on the floor, so I throw some paper at the TV and yell at the bitch.

Change channels and there’s nothing. Look outside and it’s there; the swirled thing. So I take out my phone and photograph it 100 times. Then, they’ll believe me and I call up my news station and they say to quit calling them and sleep. Fuck ‘em, so I call up the other tv stations and they ask me to email them evidence, which is typical; so I do. I wait to see which station’ll call me back first, but they don’t.

*

Then, I hear sirens, I see fire trucks, ambulances, but no media. That’s ok. If the police report the swirled things, the media’ll follow, right? Right. Then I see strong men in white coats pacing towards me. I race towards them and have them swallow me to the swirleys. They look, shrug, and put me in the white jackets and the EMTs look in my fridge and there’s vodka, rum, beer, but there’s food in there too. The EMT shakes his head and says, “Classic DT. Nothing we can do but lock him up awhile. Won’t help, but take him to AA, why not?” I yell at them and tell them to look in the backyard again. They don’t and I’m taken away. I don’t see if they locked my door. Don’t want the swirleys in my home.

The sirens are on but we go slow, turn, stop turn, and I can’t figure out where we are, but the swirleys didn’t come in the vehicle. Then, the ambulance sirens turn off and the employees take me into a room and I’m put through a metal detector like luggage. They take away my cellphone, my belt, my shoes. I look around and no swirleys yet, but remember they disappear and reappear at random. Maybe they’ve taken residence in my home. Hear the people who brought me here say DT to someone. Maybe that’s the head swirley’s name. Waiting for them to apport.