There were a few inches of powdery snow on the ground already, and according to the weather report, another foot was going to fall from the sky. It was our first storm of the winter. Chuck and I braced ourselves against an icy gust as we stepped out of the radio station, then made our way across the parking lot, past a few other buildings, and down to where the parabolic transmitter dish sat, surrounded by a tall chain link fence. Chuck pointed to a ragged, snow-covered broom, calling it our “dusting instrument.” He showed me the protocol for preventing snow from deadening our radio station’s signal: pick up the broom, whack it against the dish, which had already accumulated an inch or two since he’d made his last trip outside an hour ago...