There once was a weatherman whose name doesn’t matter.
He ran weather calculations deep into the night. He only slept about 4 hours per night.
His office was covered in maps, some modern, some ancient.
He consulted horoscopes and bible verses. Anything to get an edge.
One day, his boss, whose name doesn’t matter, walked into his office.
Tomorrow will be a tough puzzle, said the boss. Tornadoes in the north, hurricanes in the south, blue skies in the east and west. What will this small town of, name doesn’t matter, have to deal with? All the other weatherman are stumped.
The weatherman was quiet for a long time. He thought of all the people preparing for work, standing in front of their closets and dressers. They needed to know what to wear, what to bring. They needed him and his gift. The clock was ticking. One small misstep and that’s an umbrella left at home, a raincoat forgotten, a warm hat left hanging on the rack unused. These people could freeze to death, could be delayed and inconvenienced by minutes, hours, days.
Get NASA on the phone, he said.
Ok, said the boss.
Hello, this is NASA. Who is this?
My name doesn’t matter.
Uh, it matters to me – who is calling?
I’m just a man with a great responsibility who needs a consult on a difficult problem.
What is your name, sir?
I am the wind, I am the turbulent seas, I am tomorrow’s power outage and yesterday’s storm clean up.
What name does it list on your driver’s license, sir?
I am the traffic due to a commuter slipping off the road. I am anxious to prove myself and my abilities.
You know, we do a lot of things here at NASA. Are you trying to go to space?
My mission is earthbound, but my vision is cosmic.
The line disconnected.
You should have just said your name, said the boss.
My name isn’t important. It’s my work that defines me.
Not anymore, said the boss.