Hurricane Sandy Takes Its Time, Leaving TV News in an Endless Loop of Anticipation One of the blessings of Hurricane Sandy, if there are any, is its status as a very slow moving weather event. The lead time has given people in the affected area - a broad swath of the Northeast and the Mid-Atlantic - days to make way for what is set to be a very destructive visitor. But people who turned on their televisions in search of up-to-date information could not be blamed for thinking that they had tuned into a storm-themed sequel to "Groundhog Day," the film where a television weatherman, played by Bill Murray, wakes up to find the same day, running in replay, over and over. Since Friday, and even before that, all-news channels and local TV stations in the areas in the hurricane's path have had to find a different way to say the same thing over and over. The people in the studio do the toss to the reporters in the wind/rain/surf who say the storm is bad and getting worse, and then it is back to the studio, where the anchors repeat the following information: Sandy is dangerous; if you have been told to evacuate you should (this from media outlets whose reporters are standing in or near menacing waves); and once the storm arrives, it will wreak significant havoc. Poynter, the media news site, had seen enough clichés crashing onto the shore to make GIFs of the more ubiquitous ones - people stocking up on groceries, the God's-eye satellite map of the storm itself and, of course, the reporter standing in the elements. It can be a silly spectacle, while important at the same time, which makes it hard to look away, especially when you are finished with whatever preparations you can do for a storm and are locked down inside the house. Once that's done, you can read the parade of both earnest updates and storm snark on Twitter, play board games, or turn on your television. And the storm will find you on almost every click of the dial. Part of what is taking place is that Sandy is making landfall - very slowly - not just in one of the most populated places in the United States, but in one of the most thickly mediated places on the planet. The region is rife with national and local news outlets, all competing to be the go-to source for a captive audience. The endless coverage takes on an air of sameness, even though the implications are dire. A word cloud of Monday morning's coverage would include the word "again" in three-foot-high letters. Again, we have to remind again that this may be, again, one of the worst storms in the history, again, of this region. Again, we got that. "Worse than Irene" was trending on-air Monday, as was, "Get out now!" "Monster storm" is becoming a trademark of Sandy coverage, in part because it makes a natural event sound like a movie and partly owing to its size, duration and area of impact. Makes you wonder what will be left in the bank of hyperbole for tonight when Sandy actually makes landfall. One of the major building blocks of the storm coverage has come from the news conferences, daily and sometimes more frequently, from local politicians, who find both opportunity and responsibility in the task of leading the public through a crisis. Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg has been a steady and steadying presence at the mic, speaking both English and Spanish. And there is something vaguely hypnotic about the sign-language interpreter who is always at his side. Her ability to convey "over-topping," "storm surge" and "tunnel closure" in vivid, nonverbal terms is remarkable to behold. Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey is a natural - folksy and forthright - when it comes to telling people what to do. "If it looks stupid, it is stupid," he said at a news conference on Sunday afternoon, speaking of people's efforts at jury-rigged power sources. Speaking of people acting stupid, if news outlets want great video, they only have to head nearer to the ocean. And for the sake of the viewing audience, reporters need people who don't have the common sense of a bag of hammers. Just after noon on Monday, CNN's Suzanne Malveaux found the money shot in Lindenhurst, on Long Island, in a live shot with reporter Jason Carroll. He was standing knee-deep in water, natch, but he was far from alone. There was the family in a boat with a dog, finally persuaded to leave by the fact that, um, their house was flooding. While Mr. Carroll was talking to them, a guy tried to ride his bike through thigh-high water. Another guy chose a kayak, a wiser move, and great video to boot, given that they were filming on what had been a residential street. But next to him? A guy lying down in full scuba gear. Tanks, goggles, breathing apparatus, the whole nine. Mr. Carroll stepped up to the guy, whom we will call Aqualung. What might convince you it was time to leave? Mr. Carol asked. I dunno, maybe if they declared martial law? Mr. Aqualung said. Back to you, Suzanne.