My husband Kurt has held a grudge against one of our local meteorologists since February 21, 2001. Every time he would see her on television, he’d mumble under his breath, “$%*&@# Cindy Preszler.”
Kurt proposed to me on our three year dating anniversary. He had an elaborate day planned for me, starting with him surprising me at my house early that morning, telling me that he had arranged for me to have a day off of work. He was whisking me away to Chicago. Guys, it was like the stuff movies are made of. But being a control freak, surprises can make me a little uneasy, so he wanted to demonstrate how well he had planned this out so I could relax and have fun. As we were parking at the airport, he told me that he even made sure he was prepared for whatever weather Chicago was having (it must have been before you could just google this stuff). He had called one of our local news channels and was shocked when he was connected to one of the actual on-air meteorologists, Cindy Preszler. He relayed the story to me:
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