How To Kill A Weatherman

You know that weatherman? The one they call “Doppler Dan”. You remember the day he started working at Channel 4 News. The other anchors at the station seemed to enjoy his quirky jokes but when you watched him you saw something else. Something you just didn’t like.

​There’s another news broadcast you can watch on a different channel, but the news isn’t as good. The anchorwomen aren’t nearly as pretty and the quality of news isn’t nearly as well delivered. You’ve been loyal to Channel 4 since you started watching the news and you knew in your heart of hearts that Doppler Dan wouldn’t be able to stick it out for the long haul.  He just didn’t fit in. 

The other folks in town seemed to enjoy Doppler Dan though.  People thought he was handsome and charming and you’d roll your eyes when the pretty women spoke of his stylish baby blue chino pants that he’d pair with a navy blue sportscoat. You didn’t agree with his decision to make himself the only news anchor in all of television that seemed to have something against the idea of wearing a tie to work. 

He was tall and skinny, and his voice annoyed you. You hated the way that string of thick saliva connected from his top to bottom lip in front of his yellow chain smoker’s teeth. You watched in disgust waiting for his spit string to break. It never did.  That wasn’t the worst of it. His weather forecast had always seemed to be wrong, especially when it came to rain. He’s been promising rain nearly everyday recently and it seems to never come.  You realize that he has a tag line he often uses after giving his weather report, “…but as you well know, Louisiana weather can turn on a dime.” 

Remember that time Channel 4’s rival, Channel 2, reported that Doppler Dan had gotten pulled over in his red Cadillac Escalade after a night of drinking and ended up being charged with a DWI? You weren’t surprised because you knew he liked to drink. You’d seen him at Sam’s Saloon a few times, shaking men’s hands and flirting with the ladies.  You like that bar because of the pretty red headed waitress named Ginger. She has the most beautiful green eyes. Dan likes the bar because of the attention he gets, and because he’s a drunk.  

You had thought that night would have been the end of that old wino weatherman. You’d thought your favorite news station might finally end up with a new weatherman, or perhaps a lady, who had actually known when the rain would come, but you were wrong. The judge slapped Doppler Dan on his wrist and the station kept him around. Wonderful.     

You’d been waiting for rain, and for good reason. Summertime is sweltering in Louisiana. You know that when it does rain it provides at least a moment of relief from the heat. The air is always more thick and humid after a good rain but you’re willing to risk that in order to get a break from the insanity inducing inferno of the summertime swamp. 

You planted a garden in your backyard. Nothing major, just some things you like to eat like lettuce, tomato, bell peppers, and cucumber. You’ve always liked the idea of having your own garden. Picking produce from your own backyard seems to be a much better idea than going to the grocery store where you’ll probably have to hear someone talk about how much of a hoot that old Doppler Dan is. Even worse, you might run into the man himself. You’d seen him around town before. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind but he’d always been surrounded by a crowd of fans who couldn’t wait to shake his hand. Some folks would even ask him for his autograph. Seriously, who the hell asks the local weatherman for his autograph?

Your garden isn’t growing. You know its because of the lack or rain that he keeps promising and failing to deliver. You have no idea what a Doppler Radar is, or why Dan nicknamed himself after one, but you wish you could get a hold of one to smash over his head the next time you see him flirting with the pretty girls in town. 

One day you wake up and realize the air conditioner in your home has stopped working. It blows air but it’s hot. You call your repair guy and sit on your porch in the shade until he arrives hours later. He tells you that your coils need to be replaced but you cant afford it for at least another two weeks. You’re going to have to keep your windows opened and run your box fans until then. It wont help much. Your neighbor suggests sleeping under a damp sheet. You try this and it doesn’t help. You wonder how people survived in Louisiana before air conditioning was invented. 

After a few days you decide to park your truck under the shade of a Persian silk tree and run it’s AC on full blast. This provides some relief, especially when the sun goes down, but now you’re wasting gas. Some days you drive to the nearest grocery store where you walk around for a few hours to give yourself a break from the heat. You feel yourself going crazy. You’d heard an old Civil War song once that had a lyric about something called “southern fever.” Apparently it had been a killer of Yankee soldiers. You aren’t entirely sure what southern fever is but you feel like you have it. Doppler Dan is to blame. That old drunk. 

He promised rain again last night. He said there would be scattered thunderstorms throughout the next morning but also warned again that the weather could “turn on a dime.” Today you woke up excited for rain. You laid under your warm damp sheet covered in sweat as you rolled over and peeked out of your blinds. You realized that your pillow had been completely soaked. You also realized there had not been a single cloud in the sky.  

You took a cold shower and went out to your truck in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. Your garden was nothing but potting soil. You started your truck and turned the AC to full blast. The air came out hot. It’s okay. It usually takes a minute to start blowing cool. 10 minutes later it still blew hot. 20 minutes. Still hot. 30 minutes passed and you realized the humid air outside was cooler than the AC in your truck. You became furious and directed all of your anger at Doppler Dan. 

Two broken air conditioners. No garden. No rain. Only heat. 

Tonight is the night, you thought to yourself. Doppler Dan is going to be at the bar having a drink and you’re going to show up and give him a piece of your mind. You wont do it in the bar though. Not in front of his fan club. You’re going to wait until he stumbles out to make his way to his Cadillac to do some more drunk driving.  You’re not going to let him do that, are you?  You go to your garage and grab your hammer.     

​ You watch the news before you go to the bar.

​​“We’ll, good folks,” Doppler Dan says, “it appears we’re in for light thunderstorms tonight.”​

​​“Yeah right.”

​​“But as you well know,” he says, as you begin to speak in unison with him, “Louisiana weather can turn on a dime.” 

​You roll your eyes and get up to leave as the anchorwoman takes over to give the last segment before signing off. You take your hammer and drive to the bar. You keep your eye on the sky and see not a single rain cloud. You guessed it. Doppler Dan is wrong again.

​You sit in the bar and after two beers and about 45 minutes Dan walks through the door.  You touch your hip to feel the hammer that you stuffed into your waist band before you walked in. Ginger, the red headed waitress, asks you if you’ll have another beer and you say yes. She sees Dan and quickly walks over to sit him down.  After a short conversation she goes to the bar and asks the bartender for something. The bartender hands her a tall glass of something and she takes it to Dan. She forgets about your beer.

​After a few minutes you ask Ginger for that beer and she apologizes. She returns and you ask her to send Dan a drink too. You want him to leave good and drunk but Ginger tells you that the weatherman isn’t drinking alcohol. In fact, he’s only ordered Coca Cola since the night of his DWI. Not a drunk after all, you think to yourself. No matter. He’s still horrible at predicting the weather and you’ve convinced yourself that you need to do something about it. 

​You sit in the bar for another hour watching Doppler Dan laugh and shake hands with just about everyone else there. You become disgusted when Ginger goes to him and asks him to sign a napkin. He smiles and agrees and you watch as she bites her bottom lip and looks him up and down with her pretty green eyes. That’s enough. You’ve been pushed over the edge. 

​When you notice Doppler Dan is getting ready to leave, saying his goodbyes to everyone, you decide to go outside and wait for him. You stand to the left of the entrance and remove the hammer from your pants. You think about what to do after you whack him one good time. Maybe you should take him to the swamp and let the alligators have their way with him. Maybe you should just leave him laying there in front of Sam’s Saloon. As you try to decide Dan exits the bar and turns right toward the parking lot where his red Escalade is parked. You slowly and quietly walk behind him. You raise your hammer and just as you’re about to ring his bell you feel a cold raindrop hit the back of your neck. You look up to the sky and feel another rain drop hit you in the corner of your eye. Another. Then another.  You lower your hammer. You see lightning and hear the loud crash of thunder as you become soaked by greatest thunderstorm you’ve ever seen. 

​You begin to laugh before you notice Doppler Dan has turned around to look at you. 

​​“Rain!” he says. 

​​“I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t think it would.”

​​“We’ll you know, my friend…” he begins.

​​“Louisiana weather,” you say. 

​​“It can turn on a dime.”