In Their Elements : Weathercasters do it with Maps, Meteorology, Good Looks and Comedy

How do you like your weather?

Early in the day or late at night? Straight up, or with a splash of humor? In a three-piece suit or a dress? In front of a weather map or on a beach in Cannes? These days, you can get your weather almost any way you please. Current prevailing taste, however, seems to be a variation on “weather lite”: good information imparted by a good-looking person in a good mood.

It wasn’t always that way. In the beginning, recalls KCBS’ Maclovio Perez, “weathercasters were these retired Air Force and Army guys. Then it was bimbettes in hot pants. Then it was a minority slot, which made a visual point but wasn’t too threatening to the general population; it was kind of a half-step forward. Then it was broadcast meteorologists, and when that didn’t work it became comics: guys with funny bow ties.”

Today, many weathercasters are also working comedians--and KNBC’s Fritz Coleman makes no apologies for his dual status. “My comedy background makes me a better communicator; I can think on my feet,” says Coleman, whose reports are done ad lib. “I have the latitude to be fun, and have fun with what I’m doing. But even if I have fabulous jokes, I have to be conscious of the context I’m in--say I’m following a crash story--sensitive to that mood. There are nights when it would be inappropriate to be light about anything.”

“The Today Show’s” Willard Scott, who describes himself as a “p.r. weatherman,” got his start reading weather bulletins during the Vietnam War, and remembers the necessity for comic diversion. “People expected me to be silly,” says Scott, a former Ronald McDonald famous for his dress-ups and folksy birthday greetings. “It was a black period in history. When I came on, I was a buffoon, silly--but not a smart-aleck, not disrespectful, harsh or vulgar. The worst thing I did was make an ass of myself.”

The result, of course, is that a weathercaster’s popularity ultimately comes down to personality. Viewers have to like this person.

“Everyone knows the weather I give is the same as someone else’s,” reminds Scott. And Coleman, the subject of a long-running publicity campaign with sportscaster Fred Roggin, admits “the way I present the news is what makes me different. You have to stand out. And it can’t be a clip-on tie or a dumb smile.”

KCAL’s Dianne Barone acknowledges that gender can also factor into popularity. “I’m glad to be a female in a male-dominated area,” she says bluntly, “because it separates me from the rest.”

Although their numbers hardly reflect it now, women do have a history in weathercasting. Local anchors Kelly Lange and Ann Martin started out doing the weather, at a time when it was perceived as a career steppingstone.

“It’s the pendulum theory,” says Barone. “What flies one year becomes stagnant and boring--then it swings back. At one time, the weathercaster was typically feminine, the nicest-looking woman in the newsroom--like set decoration. We called her the weather bunny. That lasted awhile. Then women began to be offended and want to prove themselves as writers, producers, reporters, anchors.”

The current crop of weathercasters--most thirty- to fortysomething--invariably is trained in communications of some kind. A few have science backgrounds; most do not. Many learned on the job.

“Good Morning America’s” Spencer Christian was a general news reporter, and made his weather entry when he filled in for a local station’s newly quit weatherman. “It didn’t take long to gain the knowledge,” he says lightly. “Weather is not the most difficult science.”

Morning-show weathercasters Christian, Scott, and CBS’ “This Morning’s’ ” Mark McEwen do not compile their own stats; each show has a meteorologist who comes in around midnight and begins assessing the data. Christian arrives at 4:50 a.m. for a 30-minute briefing, then does “World News This Morning” at 5:30. McEwen, who calls himself a “weather presenter,” logs in with his meteorologist at 4:45. Virginia resident Scott eschews New York and broadcasts from NBC’s Washington news bureau.

Locally, the weathercasters’ level of scientific training differs from station to station.

KABC hails Dallas Raines as its “award-winning meteorologist,” and the distinction does set him apart. Raines (“I have no problem admitting they hired me for my looks and personality, to be this Southern California-looking guy”) got his bachelor’s degree in earth science at Florida State and taught a course in meteorology last semester at Cal State L.A. “It’s definitely an anomaly in Los Angeles,” he says of his science degree, “but I think it works to my advantage.”

Barone, too, is a member of the American Meteorological Society. Locally born, she “grew up watching Dr. George (Fischbeck)”; later, working as a page at KABC, she met Fischbeck, who gave her an assistant job. She followed up with climatology and meteorology classes, and worked as a weathercaster in Washington and Texas. “I’m not using my weather spot to get a talk show or another gig,” she stresses. “I really like weather.”

Most weathercasters had other careers in mind.

McEwen was a successful disc jockey when CBS hired him in 1987; before that, he’d tried his hand at stand-up comedy (in Los Angeles and Chicago) and did a slew of national commercials, including for Campbell’s Soup, Federal Express and McDonald’s. Fox’s Mark Thompson also trained in radio (although he studied science and psychology at Colgate University and Oxford College), and got his on-the-job tutorial in Buffalo and Denver--where he did the weather outdoors.

KNBC’s Christopher Nance, who has reported the weather in San Francisco and Monterey, minored in science at Penn State; planning to be an attorney, he majored in political science. KCBS’ Perez began broadcasting at a Texas radio station (owned by Lyndon B. Johnson) at 16 and got his science training in two summers at Texas A&M; his credits amount to “half a minor.” “I have enough training to know what I can talk about,” he says. “If I don’t know something, I’ll tell you I don’t know.”

Most of the local weathercasters emphasize that gauging the Southland weather is not usually a daunting proposition; the typical sunny-light haze outlook does not require extensive investigative or scientific knowledge. But when what Coleman calls an “all meat-no fluff” story does arise--as with the recent Hurricanes Andrew and Iniki--it gives the weathercaster a heightened visibility and status.

“Sometimes I miss working a hurricane or a storm, using my expertise,” says Raines, who grew up amid the erratic weathers of Florida and Georgia. Adds Thompson, “You see me at a bake sale, the happy-talk guy, and that’s one element. But with the hurricane, I get a chance to show I know what I’m talking about.” Stresses ABC’s Christian, “No one likes to see that kind of destruction. But it does make me a more important person on the show for a couple of days.”

Not that the weathercaster’s everyday perks aren’t nice.

“Talk about dying and going to heaven,” crows McEwen. “I got to shoot baskets with Bill Walton, pitch against Orel Hershiser.”

Travelwise, McEwen’s favorite excursions include broadcasting the weather from the top of the Tower of Piza, hang-gliding in North Carolina and parasailing in the Bahamas. Yet the most gratifying thing, says Christian, “is when people come up and say, ‘You brighten my day; you make me feel good.’ ”

Of course, some viewers hold them responsible for bad weather, accosting them with an accusatory “You screwed up my weekend.”

There are other downsides. McEwen, Christian and Scott all complain about the early hours and travel attached to their jobs--especially during the ratings sweeps.” Says Christian, “You never get used to getting up at 3:40.” Even the ever-cheerful Scott, 58, admits, “It’s getting to me now. Every bed is a strange bed anymore. Even my own bed is a strange bed, because I stay in it so seldom. Let’s be honest: You get tired. And I’m a little old.”

Some are already looking at their careers beyond the weather.

McEwen, who is also the music editor on “This Morning,” recently contributed an Elvis segment on CBS’ “48 Hours” and does promotional spots for the network. “I wouldn’t mind doing a sitcom,” he muses, “and I like interviewing, getting people to talk about themselves.” While Raines says he’s nixed several game show offers, Christian is hosting “Triple Threat,” a new game show on cable’s Black Entertainment Television (BET) he describes as a combination of “Name That Tune” and “Family Feud.”

Many weathercasters cite the educational aspects of their work.

“I aim at the lowest level: kids,” says Nance, who often speaks at local schools. “If you tap into them, you’ve got them for a long time.” Raines admits receiving a lot of romantic mail, but adds that much of the correspondence includes earnest scientific inquiries. “I think the average person says, ‘Just give me the facts,’ ” says Perez. “It’s hard to do a credible two minutes, be personable, informative and do schtick. So I try to put the information in front of personality.”

Coleman, whose deal with NBC allows him to produce his own comedy specials, courts his popularity unabashedly: “You gild your own style, play to your strengths. I happen to be science disadvantaged; my degree from Temple is in communications. Science is notoriously boring on television--and weather is science. So I hope to make it palatable and human.”

Willard Scott’s secret for success? “I love people. Also, I’m big and loud; most TV people are quiet. And of course, I’m a sex symbol.”