I was 14 years old, it was a rainy Saturday, and I was already gloomy. I went down to visit my father (CBS RMT writer Bob Juhren) in his den. 
"David,how are you this morning," he asked.
"I'm feeling kind'a blah," I responded, flopping into one of the den's comfortable armchairs.
"Maybe this rainy day has you down," he suggested with a smile.
"Nah, I think I was already down."

After a minute or so, I asked...

"Dad, wouldn't it be funny if the day was all rainy and dark because I was feeling blah, instead of the other way around?"

He chuckled for a second, and then his face glazed over. His brows knitted, he grabbed a blank sheet of paper, which he tossed into his typewriter, and started pecking away in a fury. I quietly left, having learned early as a child of a writer that inspiration prefers solitude.

That gloomy Saturday morning conversation produced my father's script "Tomorrow, Cloudy and Cold."


