Marc YachtTwo annual events occur whose sole purpose is to scare people. Halloween, where the little boys dress up like Superman and the girls rush about the neighborhood as Little Bo Peeps. Childlike adults are not to be denied their festivities disguised as the Devil or Lady Godiva at raucous, drunken costume parties.
Halloween is more fun than scare, but media efforts to terrify the public during hurricane season produce real chills.
A slight drizzle or thunderclap starts the race for TV station ratings. Both cable and network news start 24-hour sessions raking up scary archives showing devastation and destruction. Media executives search for the most frightening weather clips documented.
It’s a competition worthy of the Golden Fleece Award.
Clouds, a thunderclap, a little rain followed by program-interrupted weather warnings will start the run on emergency water supplies, hammers, nails, plywood, gas generators, 10-year supplies of canned food and thousands of flashlight batteries.
TV reporters in yellow slickers while strapped to palm trees will talk about dangerous monsoons in New Zealand heading toward our neighborhoods. Station staff will throw a bucket of water on the newscaster for effect. Huge commercial fans will blow paper and debris about; likely, the rain hasn’t started yet. Directors will command, “More water, more wind!” Images of swaying palm trees or flying garbage cans will increase ratings tenfold.
One station manager orders the station helicopter fly into a tornado with the field reporter dangling from a rope ladder. She describes the sensation of being whirled around and flipped skyward. Although her reports continue, she, the pilot, and the helicopter disappear, and later a star is carved on the station’s weather map to honor their bravery.
“Find me rivers, crashing over barriers and into the street. I don’t care where it is!” one director shouts as their newscaster mentions a minor storm in the Philippines that could come to Florida as a Class 5 hurricane. “I want cars floating around, people on rooftops!” All for the want of market share.
The tracking diagrams suggest that the tropical storm with the potential of 300 mph winds could go anywhere. Satellite storm pictures imply the whole country faces devastation. Cloudy, whirling circles hover above every city. Confused residents drift outside and nervously wonder why the sun is shining.
A rich friend of mine flies his airplane south leaving predicted dangerous weather to a place that really has a serious storm. Neighbors tell him later that their area remained sunny and dry. He could have been killed flying into a tempest.
Film clips of typhoons, tsunamis, monsoons, gale storms, ocean surges and water spouts are in high demand by cable and news networks during hurricane season. A typical start of the broadcast will show whirling waters and downed utility poles as rivers wash through streets 1,000 miles away from the broadcast. Of course, uprooted billboards have an excellent effect. A freighter washed into a seawall recorded 20 years ago has high impact. Appearing frightened, a newscaster strapped to a tree video-taped by a shaky cameraman has viewers worried for their safety. There is no seawall or ships within 500 miles. Ratings!
Take pity on the news team that chases the storm to find market share. They’re a hardy group who listen to the cold commands of news directors safely couched at the studio. “Find me lightning, find me thunder, I need destruction,” directors scream. Frightened people race to Lowe’s or Home Depot for the storm that never comes.
Market share is the mantra.
Dr. Marc Yacht is a retired physician living in Hudson, Fla. Commentary courtesy of Context Florida.
