The other morning I got a chance to sit in for Kitty Dunn while she was on vacation.  I read the news and sports and, of course, the weather.  I really like doing the weather.  When I was a little kid I wanted to be a TV weatherman.  I had my own little weather station.  I clipped the weather maps from the newspaper.  Did my own forecasts.  I could tell all the different cloud types.  Cyrus.  Cumulus.  Stratus.  Surprisingly, I did not get beat up that much.  I had a growth spurt early on and I was the tallest kid in my St. Ignatius grade school class, which helped.  Also, the parish priest was my great uncle.  That also helped. 

 Anyway, I really enjoyed doing the show even beyond the weather.  It's amazing how much preparation goes into it.  The producer Don Orlando is always running in and out with news updates and traffic reports.  Interns are scurrying around getting bagels and fresh fruit for you.  (I had one go out to get Perrier because I really didn't like the brand of bottled water I was given.)  What sounded like off the cuff banter between Jonathan and I was actually carefully scripted about four weeks ago from the writers in New York and negotiated with my agent to make sure I got 40% of the lines.  There are huge plasma TV's on every wall tuned to the major networks.  Clocks tell the time in New York, Paris, Beijing, Dayton.  It's like a nerve center.  It's like being at the very center of the entire universe. 

 Those callers who call in and sound like they're on the road driving in from Wyocena are actually actors in a remote studio someplace in Southern California.  But what really impressed me was the makeup and hair people.  I'm thinking to myself, 'this is radio so why do we need to look this good?'  Well, it's just something that Jonathan insists on to put everybody in the right mood so that we perform at our very best. 

Suttin himself is actually kind of a method host.  He doesn't talk at all while songs or commercials are playing.  Instead, he closes his eyes, goes into a lotus position and hums quietly.  He says he's getting in touch with the center of his being so that he can channel a spirit of oneness to his listeners that allows them a level of clarity which means they remember to stop at the dry cleaners on the way to work and other stuff like that.  All I can say is Wow. 

Ok, I'm lying.  Actually, it was just me and Jonathan.  There are no interns and they don't even give you a glass of water.  (I brought my own donuts.)  There's a crummy black and white TV on a file cabinet in the corner, which looks like something Kitty picked up in one of her dumpster dives.  When you go to the bathroom they have a radio on in there and it's an old, beat up portable model from about 1965 which someone has obviously used during a house painting project or two.  And I'm thinking this is a RADIO station and this is the radio they have. 

During the songs Jonathan and I talk about all kinds of stuff, but not much about what we're going to say next when the red light goes on.  That's a surprise to everybody, including us. 

There.  Now I've destroyed your carefully cultivated image of the Jonathan and Kitty Show.  It's not pretty but as your mayor, I thought you had a right to know.