Sam Champion, the Man, the Band

There is little room to doubt that if Sam Champion, the sunshine boy of weather forecasting, were part of my life, everything would be perfect. He'd take me bowling, fishing, we'd climb trees and play harmonicas together. We'd choreograph numbers making great use of umbrellas.

Something tells me, it's not going to happen. It's not so bad though, it seems fate has deemed that Sam Champion in another form does beam sunbeams at me. It all started when one of my daughter's nursery school teachers left because of school, to be replaced by a very friendly man you'd be totally justified in calling a dude, whose talent with a hand drum gets all the three year olds hopping around in a breath-taking display of controlled chaos. Whose astonishing bobble headed chin motions belie a keen sense of syncopation.

Once they told me he was in a band called Sam Champion, I looked really surprised and said I love him. Then I forgot. Then I asked him what band he was in and he said Sam Champion. And I said, I love him. He said they were playing at Union Hall that night, and on June 27 at 7pm, at the Bandshell in the Park. Hot dog! Now I've actually become familiar with one of the acts that will be playing this summer. Apart from Isaac Hayes and Deerhoof, Spoon and Feist, I knew none of them. Well, I knew of Gilberto Gil but he dropped out of the lineup to play elsewhere. That was unpleasant.

I listened briefly to Sam Champion the band tonight on their myspace page, where they are self-described as "wooly." Um, yeah. They sounded great to me, like a comfortable sweater, and I hope to hear them again soon. So there you have it, my bewildered encounter with a man who's an angelic preschool teacher by day, a rocker by night, in a band named after the grooviest weather man ever. I hope I'll remember to bring binoculars when we go to the concert, so the wee one can see her teacher behind the drum kit.