The Weather Man

The weatherman’s life is always cloudy. He wakes up, brushes his teeth everyday so they look perfect on T.V., and fixes his hair to look just perfect. Once he gets to work, he doesn’t feel as perfect as he looks. The weatherman thinks of how he can just get through the day.

Knowledge of the weather is not what the weatherman has. All he does is look at the cue cards and point to a a green curtain that drops behind him. If you think about it, the weatherman is like the green screen. He portrays an image that he isn’t to the audience just to get through the day, just to make life work. After he finishes, he heads home to what isn’t an american dream. He arrives at a home filled with a wife that doesn’t love him, a son who needs a dad but won’t accept one, and too much time to think.

The weatherman, when he’s alone, shouts to life, begging, pleading for another one where he can have it better. And one day, when he was by himself, life took pity, and when he woke up the next day, he wasn’t in the same house; he didn’t have the same son or wife. Instead, he woke up to clouds, something he was familiar with.