Here in Austin, Texas, where we have a minimum of six months of summer per year, the role of TV weatherman has assumed an importance far in excess of its actual value. We have a lot of well-respected meteorologists working for the various network affiliates and they've all been here since I was a kid. You know 'em: Murray, Spencer, Kimmel, Smith, et al. Now, these guys have been around long enough to be secure in their presentations and they only take a minimum of guff from the anchors, whose job it is to segue into and out of them with witty badinage. Not that they're so great at forecasting; they suck at that as much as the newest of the new. But, the point is that they are only somewhat less likely than the second tier of meteorological talent to give into the mindless whining that's sure to come with even the slightest indication of rain or cooler weather. It drives me insane when one of these people clucks and moans about how it's going to rain, as though the very thought might destroy all our plans and force us into gloomy, inhospitable shelters. Oh, just shut up! We haven't seen an inch of rain for almost two months and your impulse is to complain about how the kids might have to have an Easter egg hunt under umbrellas? What crap! Let it rain! Let it be cool! We've got six months of 90 degree-plus weather around the corner and humidity levels to match. So shut the hell up, already!!!