Not to create an atomspheric river on your parade, but . . .

Years ago – before the Internet – the Daily Republic had a  service where readers could phone in and hear a recording with winning lottery numbers, local sports scores, weather reports and more.

It was (kind of) interactive and it was the responsibility of those of us who worked on the news and sports copy desks to update the recordings every night before we went home.

I was the sports editor, but I often persuaded the copy desk folks to let me report the weather. I would do a parody of a TV newscaster or morning drive-time radio host, using a fake voice and breaking out neighborhood-specific references while making chatty references ("if you live out in Green Valley, it's not quite time to put away the umbrella. We expect a few spatterings of showers starting around the evening drive time Thursday. And of course it should get a little nippy again Friday morning up in Allendale . . .").

Here's what I wish I knew then: The term "atmospheric river."

That is, if you don't know, the weather term du jour for rain.

Read any newspaper or Internet article about rainstorms and you likely get to hear that "an atmospheric river will soak the Bay Area  Thursday . . ."

It's dreadful.

It's fantastic.

The phrase might be appropriate if it were only used for crazy storms. Perhaps "atmospheric river" would be an appropriate description for a series of storms that result in flooding and loss of property. But that's not how it's used. If we have a looming storm that will bring a half-inch of rain,  the weather people want to talk about an atmospheric river.

I love it, because it's colorful. Phrases that create a mental picture are the best: Cauliflower ears. A gullywasher. Hand caught in the cookie jar.

An atmospheric river.

But I hate the phrase because it is an exaggeration. Atmospheric river means that it's going to rain.

I guess I'd be OK if we just decided to describe all weather phenomena in the same way. A snowstorm would be an atmospheric avalanche. A windy day would be an atmospheric vacuum. A hot day would be an atmospheric oven. Summer would be an atmospheric desert.

In that way, I could justify – maybe – the use of atmospheric river.

But now? This is just a silly phrase. This the weather equivalent of "at the end of the day" or "if you build it, they will come" (a phrase I banned from the Daily Republic when I was a sports editor, because I had already used it about five times. Nobody else could do the same).

Whether "atmospheric river" will open the door to a series of imaginative weather descriptors or will be banished to the trash heap of  history remains to be seen, but I love it.

And I hate it.

However . . . I know how I would feel if I could go back in time and record more local weather reports on the Daily Republic phone service. I would be all in.

That's because I  understand it might get a little chilly over toward Elmira, so keep the scarves available. And don't be surprised if you see a little bit of frost on the windshield when you head out to work in the morning. And be ready for the evening commute, because it looks like we'll have an atmospheric river coming our way!

Man, I miss those recordings.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.