Read Online Let Me Off at the Top!: My Classy Life and Other Musings by Ron Burgundy - Free Book Online
Book: Let Me Off at the Top!: My Classy Life and Other Musings by Ron Burgundy
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Authors: Ron Burgundy
Tags: Humour
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We knew to really put us over the top we needed a great weatherman. It wasn’t going to be easy. A team is about chemistry and a bad weatherman can ruin the mix. I’ve seen it happen before. A weatherman named Len Front was added to the number one Channel 2 news team in Denver back in ’68. The team had been number one for at least ten years. Their longtime weatherman, Jerk Watson, was hit by lightning, which burned a red and blue mark across his face, making him virtually impossible to look at. I’m not going to hide my feelings when I say I never could forgive David Bowie for stealing the only thing Jerk had left, his red and blue streak, for his
Aladdin Sane
record. People would see poor Jerk Watson on the street where he sold wind-up toys and tease him about the terrible David Bowie impression. Jerk Watson was the first person with a red and blue streak through his face and he never saw a dime for it. Anyway, Len Front replaced him; the chemistry was wrong and the station dropped in the ratings faster than the Octomom drops babies. (NOTE TO SELF: Is there a better line for that? Probably not but give it some thought. Maybe put a clock on it. If you can’t get a better line in three hours, then just leave it. It’s really extremelyfunny but maybe a little too hip.) It wasn’t Len Front’s fault that the ratings dropped. He went on to become one of the great weathermen of all time over in Laramie but the chemistry was off in Denver and it tanked the whole operation. I don’t think the importance can be overstated: If a news team makes a mistake in its weatherman they might as well change their names and leave the country or face the consequences of a life of shame.
We canvassed the country for just the right guy. He had to know meteorology. He had to be nice—a little too nice and too happy. He had to be clean. Most important, he had to come across like a simpleton or a village idiot. A lot of guys came into the station, mostly overweight guys who had clowning skills and useless meteorology degrees from tech institutes and third-tier colleges. Guys with names like “Hap” and “Doc” and “Cappy” came through the door but none of them had the mettle for the kind of team I was putting together. I think we looked at well over a thousand laughing idiots. We were just about to give up when it hit me—we needed to be active in the search. Where do weather guys come from? How can you spot one? We all got in a room and came up with a scientific list of what to look for.
THE PERFECT WEATHERMAN
Must be nice.
Should carry lunch in a kid’s lunch box.
Should live with mother.
Remembers the birthday of everyone he’s met.
Listens to transistor radio at bus stop.
Likes watching softball games in park.
Enjoys petting rabbits.
Has rigid daily routine.
Should smile too much.
Will try any food.
Cannot resist waiting in lines.
Only has tighty-whitey underwear.
Buys shoes from nursing supply store.
Is best friends with old people.
Must have name tags sewn into his clothes with address and phone number in case of an emergency.
Someone in the room then asked about meteorological understanding but I said no. It was important but not vital, not like these other qualities on the list. A guy could be whip-smart with meteorology skills but what’s that got to do with being a weatherman? It’s a little like saying a smart news reporter makes a great anchorman. Let’s also consider the very real possibility that meteorology is nothing less than wizardry handed down to us from Arthurian times. Was Merlin the first weatherman? I don’t think there’s enough evidence to point to the contrary. If that’s the case, then we have to assume that anyone who studies meteorology is really a wizard. I don’t know about you but I think having a wizard on staff is not very professional. Is it neat? Of course it’s way cool, but is it safe? Wizards are notorious for meddling in affairs they should not meddle in—using
Aladdin Sane
record. People would see poor Jerk Watson on the street where he sold wind-up toys and tease him about the terrible David Bowie impression. Jerk Watson was the first person with a red and blue streak through his face and he never saw a dime for it. Anyway, Len Front replaced him; the chemistry was wrong and the station dropped in the ratings faster than the Octomom drops babies. (NOTE TO SELF: Is there a better line for that? Probably not but give it some thought. Maybe put a clock on it. If you can’t get a better line in three hours, then just leave it. It’s really extremelyfunny but maybe a little too hip.) It wasn’t Len Front’s fault that the ratings dropped. He went on to become one of the great weathermen of all time over in Laramie but the chemistry was off in Denver and it tanked the whole operation. I don’t think the importance can be overstated: If a news team makes a mistake in its weatherman they might as well change their names and leave the country or face the consequences of a life of shame.
We canvassed the country for just the right guy. He had to know meteorology. He had to be nice—a little too nice and too happy. He had to be clean. Most important, he had to come across like a simpleton or a village idiot. A lot of guys came into the station, mostly overweight guys who had clowning skills and useless meteorology degrees from tech institutes and third-tier colleges. Guys with names like “Hap” and “Doc” and “Cappy” came through the door but none of them had the mettle for the kind of team I was putting together. I think we looked at well over a thousand laughing idiots. We were just about to give up when it hit me—we needed to be active in the search. Where do weather guys come from? How can you spot one? We all got in a room and came up with a scientific list of what to look for.
THE PERFECT WEATHERMAN
Must be nice.
Should carry lunch in a kid’s lunch box.
Should live with mother.
Remembers the birthday of everyone he’s met.
Listens to transistor radio at bus stop.
Likes watching softball games in park.
Enjoys petting rabbits.
Has rigid daily routine.
Should smile too much.
Will try any food.
Cannot resist waiting in lines.
Only has tighty-whitey underwear.
Buys shoes from nursing supply store.
Is best friends with old people.
Must have name tags sewn into his clothes with address and phone number in case of an emergency.
Someone in the room then asked about meteorological understanding but I said no. It was important but not vital, not like these other qualities on the list. A guy could be whip-smart with meteorology skills but what’s that got to do with being a weatherman? It’s a little like saying a smart news reporter makes a great anchorman. Let’s also consider the very real possibility that meteorology is nothing less than wizardry handed down to us from Arthurian times. Was Merlin the first weatherman? I don’t think there’s enough evidence to point to the contrary. If that’s the case, then we have to assume that anyone who studies meteorology is really a wizard. I don’t know about you but I think having a wizard on staff is not very professional. Is it neat? Of course it’s way cool, but is it safe? Wizards are notorious for meddling in affairs they should not meddle in—using
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