by Kerry Dougherty

You would think that the 2024 hurricane season, which just set a record for the longest stretch in more than 50 years without a single late-summer cyclone, would be a cause of celebration.

Until this week there wasn’t a named storm since August.

Those of us who live along the coast are delighted that our roofs are still intact, we aren’t doing the backstroke in our living rooms and Jim Cantore, the Weather Channel’s “Hurricane Hunk,” hasn’t lashed himself to a lamppost on Atlantic Avenue.

You know who isn’t celebrating?

Climate alarmists. You know, those unwashed sourpusses who cheer for violent and especially deadly storms so they can point fingers at those of us who drive gas-powered cars to work. It’s all our fault. There were never hurricanes or tornadoes until the invention of the combustion engine.

Oh, and one other group is mopey: hurricane hustlers.

You know, those soothsayers who publish scary predictions every year about how many Category 5 ‘canes will be buzz-sawing through our towns. Read the whole thing.