Category: Rants a.k.a. Commentary || By

If a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, maybe too much knowledge is even more dangerous, at least when it comes to the weather.

Specifically, if you're talking about those computer-generated 3-D storm-tracking weather graphics that the three big Pittsburgh TV stations use.

As some of you know, I work part-time in local radio at two different stations. Sunday afternoons usually find me "riding the board" in North Versailles.

This past Sunday, I was working the day watch when the Emergency Alert System box squawked to life, printing out a little receipt that looked something like this:

My reaction, needless to say, looked something like this:

. . .

Our station is better equipped than most, but we don't have a news department, so we don't have an AP wire machine, and Internet access is limited. My connections to the outside world on Sundays are confined to the telephone, a police scanner and an RCA ColorTrak TV that's 30 years old, if it's a day.

Also, we run a fair amount of pre-recorded programming, which means I had to find a point to interrupt the ongoing show that wouldn't be too disruptive, and issue a warning that made some sense to the listener.

So I broke into the program, issued the tornado warning, and turned on the police radio and the TV to see if I could get more information.

Although the police radio was mercifully quiet, the coverage on the tube strongly suggested that I should get my affairs in order, particularly the reports on KDKA-TV, which offers something called "VIPIR" weather.

. . .

VIPIR weather systems, according to the company that sells them, "automatically (track) the most dangerous storms at neighborhood-level" and offer images detailed down to two feet.

That enabled KDKA to start tracking the path of the "tornado cell," which (according to the station's full-color digital map) passed through the intersection of Richland Avenue, Pittsburgh-McKeesport Boulevard and Bettis Road.

Since my house is on the hill next to Bettis Lab, this was a bit of unpleasant news.

Continuing east, KDKA reported with an alarming level of precision, the "cell" (painted in an angry purple color, like a bruise) would arrive in North Versailles at 5:50 p.m.

"In fact," the meteorologist said, "VIPIR shows it passing directly over the Pittsburgh Plaza East Shopping Center."

. . .

Pittsburgh Plaza East is the shopping center that's home to the Destinta Theater, and the radio station is close enough to see the shopping carts in the parking lot of the Giant Eagle next door.

Except that the radio station is higher than the shopping center.

So, if there really was a tornado on the way, and KDKA's pinpoint VIPIR weather was correct, I had picked exactly the wrong places to 1.) buy a house, and 2.) work.

At the bottom of the hour, I interrupted the current programming again to repeat the tornado warning. Luckily, the quiver in my voice drowned out the sound of my knees knocking.

. . .

Well, the wind howled, and the rain came down in sheets, but we survived otherwise unscathed. Twenty minutes later, the rain had stopped, and I went down the hill for a cup of coffee.

A group of tornado-chasers was pulling out of the parking lot --- they told the clerk that they heard a tornado had hit McKeesport, and they were disappointed because they hadn't seen anything.

I almost felt sorry that they had wasted a trip. Hey, maybe we'll do better next time.

. . .

When you take basic math and statistics classes in high school and college, you're warned against "false precision."

"False precision" practically defines TV weather, which now offers "neighborhood forecasts" that confidently report the high temperature tomorrow in Library will be 78, while the high in Glassport will be 79.

Really? What if it's 78 in Glassport and 79 in Library? Do we get a refund? Isn't it enough to say --- like the National Weather Service does --- that highs will be "in the upper 70s"?

. . .

I'm guessing no one at KDKA-TV took math and statistics, or else they skipped those courses in favor of "Introduction to Teeth-Whitening," because they love false precision.

At several times on Sunday, they also issued VIPIR weather warnings for the McKeesport-area communities of "Otto" and "Port Perry."

You surely know where Otto and Port Perry are, right? No?

Well, "Otto" is a tiny borough near the present-day Mansfield Bridge that merged into Glassport in 1902, while "Port Perry" is an abandoned section of North Versailles.

. . .

No, I'm not making that up: KDKA was calmly reporting that the "storm cell" would pass through "Otto" and "Port Perry." I'm betting that no one lives in Port Perry except raccoons and squirrels, and that no one who lives in Otto knows that they live in Otto.

Apparently, VIPIR's data is a bit old, or else it doesn't distinguish between mere points on the map and actual incorporated communities.

It's too much to hope that some human at KDKA would look at VIPIR's output and say, "Hmm. I never heard of 'Otto' and 'Port Perry,' might as well leave those out."

. . .

As for me, I think I'll go back to getting my weather from the Old Farmer's Almanac.

Their weather maps aren't in color, they don't come with flashing alarms and warnings, and best of all, they're a lot less precise.

Besides, according to the Old Farmer's Almanac, the moon is favorable in McKeesport this week for planting turnips and broccoli, and I'll bet VIPIR doesn't know that.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure about planting conditions in Otto and Port Perry. You'll have to work those out on your own.