They say you shouldn't shoot the messenger, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to. Especially when it's the same message day after scorching day.
I know summer is a time for re-runs, I just don't expect to see repeats on the news. But there it is, the same message given in the morning, at noon and again on the evening newscast. It's to the point where the humidity doesn't bother me as much as the monotony.
After all, how many ways can you say: "It's going to be hot"?
The old line in criticizing a weatherman is that it must be nice to have a job where you're only right 50 percent of the time. Man, I wish that was the truth this summer. If they could just be wrong for a day -- 24 stinking hours -- it would be a nice respite.
But no, every day brings the same forecast, like the movie "Groundhog Day" if it was set in hell.
Maybe I'm crazy from the heat, but it's to the point where local forecasters are my sworn enemies. They do not offer me hope nor happiness, just another string of 90-degree days and the sweat and misery and electric bills that go with them.
I'm tired of my car being an inferno when I enter it after work. I'm tired of my plants wilting, my lawn frying and my driveway burning any bare feet that dare touch it. I'm tired of a walk to the mail box drenching my shirt and I'm tired of the swimming pool feeling like a warm bath.
And I'm tired of the folks who keep telling me that it will most likely continue like this for the unforeseeable future. Apparently, I am not alone.
"I get that all the time," says David Chandley, a Lilburn resident and meteorologist for WSB-TV and generally good guy when not relaying forecasts of doom.
I like David, but I hate the heat. And in the past few weeks I can't separate the two. I guess I can blame the hot weather for my loss of manners in asking him: "How hard is your job? How tough can it be? All you do is keep saying that it's going to be hot."
"Yes," he replies, "but you've got to make that interesting."
I'll give him that. It can't be easy being the balmy bearer of bad news. But it doesn't stop him. Or the others.
"I've been doing this for 27 years," Chandley said, "and when it's hot everyone wants to know when it will be cool and when it's cool everyone wants to know when it will warm up."
He says this in a pleasant way, with a nice tone. But I'm not falling for the nice guy routine. Because tonight he'll be back to his old tricks, repeating the forecast that makes my blood boil long before the heat of the day.
Email Todd Cline at firstname.lastname@example.org. His column appears on Wednesdays. For archived columns, go to www.gwinnettdailypost.com/toddcline.