Despite the fact that master weatherman Bill Meck only forecasted 20% chance of showers this past Thursday evening, a storm system moved in across the Bluegrass leaving Meck, who was knee deep in burgers & dogs, no choice but to personally suspend the storms long enough for him to grill out on his back patio.

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened”, said Meck, “that dumb ol’ Doppler thought the system was gonna zig and well, it decided to zag. What are you gonna do? It’s weather. I’m out there grilling away, listening to my CCR tapes so I’m just as shocked as anyone.”

However, the all-too-powerful Bill Meck wasn’t about to let the evening’s untimely weather get in his way.  As Meck began to step out of his home onto an uncovered patio, he simply pointed upwards, and began to move clouds around the sky as if he was moving an app around on his smartphone. “No, when I saw those cumulonimbus clouds rolling in, I knew things were about to get cirrus”, joked the meteorologist as he later pointed out to us in a follow-up email that made sure we knew to type it as ‘cirrus’ and not ‘serious’ so that the joke would work in print format.

“I had just thrown the burgers on so I decided it was best to go ahead and pump the brakes on the showers while I cooked those bad boys up.” On a few occassions, Meck would simply tap his shoulders, signaling to the weather that he only needed a 30 second timeout to flip the burgers, which he would report a few hours later on the 11 o’clock news as “off and on showers.”

Meck also made a point however, to defend the storm, pointing out that the humidity is in fact ‘God’s marinade’. “Oh yeah, a little rain never hurt a barbeque in the Meck household. In fact, the limestone in Lexington’s water is not only great for distilling bourbon but it’s also amazing for making hot dogs” he quipped, while dipping a stainless steel pot into his artisan rain barrel.

Meck finished cooking the most delicious smelling meal you’ve ever smelled and began to head back inside.  Just as he opened the screen door to his home, the rain turned from light misting to torrential downpour.  He closed the door behind him as he said, “You know what they say about Kentucky weather?  If you don’t like it, just wait… until Bill Meck has to do something outside.”