Rainy, Sunny, Sweeney [Part One] 

"Sun, fog, rain? Will it be muddy at the pumpkin patch? I'll be right back with this weekend's weather and the five day forecast."

(Fade to a Suburu ad. )

Dave Sweeney. He was my weatherman of choice. I couldn't decide exactly why I liked him. I tuned in to his forecast every day at exactly 6:17 PM. I couldn't figure out if he wore a toupee. I was pretty sure he did. You could kind of see it if he turned his head 85 degrees either way.  There was some kind of line there demarcating real hair and hair threaded strand by strand into a yarmulke style cap by some Indonesian eleven year-old. It wasn't super obvious, but it was there.

(Three, two, we're live again.) 

"And the system that's above us, it's going to swoop down," Dave says with his shoulders, arms, and hands swooping down, his whole body becoming the low pressure system that's now "hovering", hands flat, outstretched, and waving -- Dave becomes the active form of the verb "to hover" -- he's mixing see through finger paint on a make believe kindergarten easel -- all  over unseasonably frigid Sothwestern Canada.

He loved the weather. He loved telling us about the hi's and the lo's, all the record breaking stats. But he had a human side, too. One of my favorite Dave moments was when he was broadcasting live from the Linn County Fair. Dave was wearing a cowboy outfit with leather chaps and a cute baby lamb was down on the ground before him. He bent down on one knee while holding a giant milk bottle and looked strait into the camera. The lamb kept bleating -- bahhhh, bahahahhhaa, bahhhh while Dave was talking. Then suddenly the lamb got frustrated and nipped at Dave's crotch. "Hey little guy!" Dave yells while live on the air. "Is this the nipple ya want?" And he held the bottle down a little more and the lamb sucked ravenously.

(Fade to an ad for Viox.)

[Part 2 coming soon]