The Only Thing Right About a Forecast Is That It's Wrong
I’m sitting on an Acela train from Washington, D.C., to New York City, comfortably tapping my keyboard at 100 MPH. Just a few hours earlier, I was not in such a calm condition. Super Storm Saturn was bearing down on the East Coast. Twenty-four hours ahead of the storm, under a perfectly clear sky, my airline canceled my flight from DC to NYC. My customer meetings were also canceled in anticipation of a cold-weather calamity. Disruption dumped down on me, but the snow never did. The storm blew out to sea, dropping only a mild rain. The only thing right about a forecast is that it’s wrong.