During all the recent snowstorms, I did what I was supposed to do when it snows – I got in my recliner and watched television. On one particular morning, the news anchor kept going from one snowbound reporter to another. You see, the news bosses at the TV station thought that viewers like me would get more insights into the phenomenon known as “snowing” if their poor reporters were standing somewhere outside in settings that look as much like Lapland as Maine. Lucky for them, they were all bundled up in the latest, brightly colored, Thinsulate, Gortex outerwear as the latest snowstorm swirled around them.

Despite the clear picture of the swirling snow, the anchor in the studio – who sat in a sweater all cozy under hot studio lights – felt the need to ask: “So, Chad, what’s it doing out there where you are?”

Chad would dutifully answer the silly question, telling the news anchor that the rumors were true and it was indeed snowing where he was standing. He would then go on the say, “As you and the viewers can see, I am standing in the middle of the blizzard as we speak, Lance.”

Each reporter in turn would tell us viewers that if we were planning to go out in the raging storm, we should “be careful” and give ourselves “extra time” because (listen carefully) snow can often be slippery and that characteristic of snow, combined with a knucklehead at the wheel, can sometimes cause accidents.

Meanwhile, there was a crawl at the bottom of the screen indicating that virtually every school and college in the state closed due to the storm.

Since I already knew what swirling and blowing snow looked like, and I also knew the characteristics of snow, I finally decided to turn off the TV and read a good book.

Back when I was a kid, my mom always had the radio on when it snowed and we would listen to see if our school was closed. The guys at the radio station would just say, “Hey folks, it’s snowing outside.” No one was sent outside to report on what it was doing. They figured we knew what it was doing – snowing. If we wanted to know more, we could go outside and see for ourselves. Television people look back on those days as the unenlightened dark ages.

Back then, television people couldn’t have done much, no matter how enlightened they wanted to be. Their equipment was too bulky and heavy to take outside in the snow. So, during snowstorms, television people were prisoners of their windowless studios and viewers were spared from hearing exchanges like, “What’s it doing where you are, Mitch?”

“Well, it’s snowing where I am, as you can plainly see, and as you just finished reporting to our viewers not five seconds ago.”

“Thanks for those insights, Mitch, and we will continue to check with you over and over again throughout the morning so you can tell us essentially the same thing again and again.”

John McDonald is the author of five books on Maine, including “John McDonald’s Maine Trivia: A User’s Guide to Useless Information.” Contact him at mainestoryteller@yahoo.com.