I am earnestly awaiting Ernesto.

I know that sounds terrible, but I am afforded this selfish indulgence because I am a surfer. For us East Coast watermen, storms, depressions and hurricanes mean the rare prospect of something more than the typical ankle-slap waves that show up on our shores. To date, I have only stood inside the tube of one East Coast Wave in the last 10 years - her name was Isabel.

Having just left a totally devastated Hurricane region, I am feeling particularly guilty waiting on Ernesto to make it to North Carolina. But thanks to my profession - not my hobby - I take some solace in being able to say that my motives aren’t entirely evil.

Have we so over hyped Tropical Depression Ernesto with wall-to-wall coverage that we may become the "Boy Who Cried Wolf" the next time the "Big One" really does come? A local news station here in DC led their 11p newscast last night with a panic-stricken meteorologist. Apparently, no one bothered to inform him that Washington isn’t a coastal city.

It’s never a bad thing to alert people to be prepared for a storm. But scaring the pants off of everybody isn’t a good thing either. Oh well - I guess if you see a live shot from the Outer Banks of N.C. this weekend… look for me in the background!

Adios!