Published: January 23, 2008 07:18 am      

THE WAY I SEE IT: Please, Al, turn up the heat!

Sunday morning broke bright and clear. There was not a cloud in the sky, barely a breeze, and only 15 little degrees shivering in my porch thermometer. Please, Al, turn up the heat! I don't know who else to ask. After all, the former vice president has been honored all over the world for having the most profound insight into the weather.

Last week, for the first time in modern memory, there was snow in Baghdad. A few days ago, NASA reported on the remarkable observation that more than 60 percent of 48 contiguous states were covered with snow. From Seattle to Bangor they were measuring the snowfall in feet instead of inches. Schools in Middle Tennessee took snow days. Children cheered. Parents wept. Please, Al, turn up the heat.

I have always enjoyed Gulf Shores, AL, with its white-as-sugar beaches, flocks of seabirds, leaping dolphins and Gulf breezes. Last weekend, the residents couldn't see them through their frost-covered windows. The low temperature was 27 degrees. I would hazard a guess that sunbathers had no trouble finding a spot on the beach for their blankets. But then, it is rather difficult getting a suntan when you're wearing a hooded fur parka, long johns, mittens and felt boots. Mr. Gore, please!

There cannot be a better job than that of weatherman. You can be wrong 95 percent of the time, and the check still clears. A friend of mine was the contractor who built the weather station atop the Merchandise Mart in Chicago. For years, that was the spot from which weather forecasts were issued for Chicago and the Great Lakes. He told me why they were usually wrong. There were no windows! If they could have looked out a window, they would have known if it was rainy or sunny.

There were at least five deaths attributed to the cold in Albuquerque last Sunday. So much for global warming. Mr. Gore warns us that the penguins and polar bears are all going to die. I have a suggestion for him. Send them to Gulf Shores. There is plenty of water, no people on the beaches, lots of food and freezing temperatures. They will never miss their polar caps, and that suggestion could earn me a Noble Prize.

I marvel at people who cannot tell us what the weather will be in 30 hours, but can predict, with absolute certainty, exactly what it will be in 30 years. Imagine how far a sportscaster would get if he couldn't predict who would win this year's Super Bowl. But, he knew, absolutely, that the Knoxville Knuckle Heads would beat the Little Rock Lame Brains in 2038. He would be promoted to weatherman.

I hate to break the news to the Nobel Peace Prize winner, but there is an outside possibility that there is a more powerful force in this universe than puny mankind. We are told to alter our lifestyles, because of the edict of this man. Any one of us could live very nicely on the money Mr. Gore spends on public utilities. There must be advantages to being the High Priest of Gaia. Mr. Gore, you own the thermostat. Turn up the heat!

Robert Evans Burnette is a Crossville Chronicle columnist. His column is published on Wednesdays.