Yesterday morning I delivered a presentation on storm chasing for the residents of Covenant Village, a retirement community on the west side of Grand Rapids. The event was my baptism as a public speaker, and it went very well. The positive comments I received encouraged me that I did a good job for a greenhorn. But then, I had a compelling topic and plenty of material to make up for my lack of experience behind the podium.

I spent most of the previous day organizing my notes and photographs. By the time I was finished, sometime around midnight, I had a collection 37 images, including two radar screens. I also had seven pages of notes that covered

• who storm chasers are, what they do, and why they do it; and my own growth as a storm chaser;

• severe weather in Michigan, using this year’s May 29 straight-line wind event in Battle Creek as an example;

• basics of a tornadic supercell, tracking the June 5, 2010, Elmdale, Illinois, storm from initiation to tornadogenesis to impact on a small community;

• and finally, my most intense personal experience to date, that being May 22, 2010,  in “The Field” near Roscoe, South Dakota.

Inviting my audience to interject with questions made for more organic, interesting communication. A number of  people responded with some excellent questions, and I liked how those freed me from the tyranny of my notes. I really don’t like to getting my nose stuck in a pile of notes–they interrupt my flow. Hopefully I’ll get more speaking opportunities, and those will help me to internalize my material, at which point I’ll be able to jettison the notes entirely.

At the request of organizer Linda Kirpes, I concluded my talk with a rendition of “Stormy Weather” on my saxophone, followed by my theme song, “Amazing Grace.” Probably most speakers don’t cap their presentations in such fashion, but it suited me, and I’ll do it again if I get the chance. The storm and the horn of “Stormhorn” go together, after all.