So there we were, Kim and I, having a nice evening together, going to our favorite Tex-Mex haunt, Mattito’s, and it’s pretty crowded, but the weather outside is nice, not too warm, not too cool, and so Kim asks if there is any immediate seating outside, and there was, so we were led out to our table, and who is sitting at a table for 6 across from us but WFAA weather man Pete Delkus.

I have a strange history with members of the WFAA news team. Way back, when I was about 17 or so there was a guy on WFAA that did the news named Quin Mathews. One day I saw him at a CD shop, so, being the curious sort, I followed him around and would casually try to see what he was going to buy. I think it was jazz. Then I would see him at Blockbuster with a female. They both picked a video, his pick lost that night.

Then Gary Cogill and I exchanged some emails about film criticism and we even saw each other at a press screening for a Kevin Kline film that was pretty terrible. And I saw Troy Dungan in college at a Parent’s Weekend function at Baylor. But it had been a loooooooooong time since I’d seen any current WFAA team players…until Friday evening.

White shirt, pink tie. Hair looking perfect, as usual. Looked like an iced tea in a beer mug. In fact, the whole family had drinks in mugs. Three kids, two other women. The strange thing? There wasn’t a lot of talking at the table for so many people being there. Seemed kind of strange for a party of six.

The other thing that I noticed almost immediately is that the waiter that everyone else on the patio had was not attending to Delkus, party of six. They had Martin, who is one of the old timers there. He’s good. He paid attention to the Delkus party while we were waiting for refills, Delkus, party of six had refills immediately, thanks to Martin.

I guess it pays to be weather royalty in this town. Now if only us little people could get our refills in a timely manner, too.

Kim and I met Charo at the Dallas Museum of Art several years ago when she came there to hock some new salsa or something for Pace. They had a car outside decorated up by some artist or something and she spoke and played her guitar for a few minutes before a crowd of about one hundred people. Afterwards she took questions, of all things, doing that “Cuchi-cuchi” thing she says every once in awhile. It was goofy and surreal at the same time, knowing that this was that strange unintelligible Spanish woman I’d seen on The Love Boat when I was a kid.

Kim, never one to shirk from making a comment, had the guts to pipe up when she said that she lived on the Hawaiian island of Kauai.

“We had our honeymoon there!”

It kind of threw Charo ¹ off, but hen became excited. She was bonding with the audience, you know. “Oh, did you love it? Where did you stay?”

“South side of the island at a B&B.”

“The B&B’s on Kauai are wonderful, aren’t they?”

“Yes!!!” Kim was so excited.

What was even cooler was she even took a picture with us. She was wearing a red sequined minidress and was completely falling out the thing. We were going to use the picture for our Christmas card (“Merry Christmas from Kim, Glenn and Charo”) but Kim was laughing when the picture was taken and her smile was Joker-esque, so we didn’t use it, but, you know, it’s still a great story.

It was Parent’s Weekend at Baylor, probably around 1993. The big hullabaloo was going on over at Founders Mall – parents meeting teachers, kids introducing their moms and dads to Professor So-And-So, and there I was just ambling through without my parents, who hadn’t come this time around. If you’d seen me then on that warm early October day, you’d probably have said, “Why is that dirty hippie walking through here?” I was not the clean cut person I became later. That’s the trouble with people; they change.

And so that dirty hippie was loping through the hordes, probably going somewhere in a slow and “keep on truckin’” kinda way, when I saw him. He was the weatherman that I’d grown up with, and I knew his daughter was attending his alma mater at the same time that I was. His trademark bow ties were legendary around Dallas from the first time I remember him and he wore them every newscast, no matter what. He’d always been short, you could tell that by comparing him to the other news anchors on the channel 8 sound stage, but I didn’t know he’d be that short. I’m talking like Danny Devito height, no kidding, the man was SHORT. Like 5′ 2″ or something.

As I brushed by him (literally) he seemed startled. I mumbled, “Hi there.” He didn’t say anything, just sorta glared.

I thought, “Man, what a jerk.”

And that was my close encounter of the weather kind with Troy Dungan. He’d started working for WFAA on July 19, 1976, and he’s retiring tomorrow, July 18, 2007. From what his collegues say he’s a swell guy. I’m sure he is and was just probably scared of that dirty hippie kid way back when. So long, Troy. Happy trails.