The weather guys love jargon and too-cute phrases almost as much as their colleagues on the sports desk (I once swore that if I had to read the phrase "three-peat" one more time, someone was going to get a "peat-down"). I confess to enjoying those broadcast weather-thons on a stormy evening, with talk of supercells and wall clouds. I can curl up on the couch and catch up with static-filled updates from weather spotters and junior staffers at obscure places I suspect they make up on the spot.
"We've got butter-bean size hail here in Trailerton, where Co. XYZ crosses U.S. 747, at the Pig Trot Truck Stop and Barbecue."
If it weren't for hail and the odd tornado, no one would ever hear about Trailerton. Apparently in Alabama, where two or three are gathered together, there a town shall be, also.