Live Arts: Fritz Coleman On The 5 Things You Need To Create A Highly Successful Career in Broadway, Theater or Live Performance Art
…Be willing to start small. A lot of people dream of making it big right away, but that’s not how it works. LA is the second-largest media market in the country — most people don’t start here. I didn’t have to because I got my start in Armed Forces Television for three and a half years. But most people begin in smaller markets — Fresno, San Luis Obispo — places where you can figure out who you are without the pressure of a major city. You won’t make a lot of money at first, but that’s okay. You’ll make mistakes, and in those smaller markets, mistakes aren’t catastrophic. You’ll learn, grow, and work your way up…
I had the pleasure of talking with Fritz Coleman. Fritz is a veteran weathercaster, comedian, and entertainer whose career in broadcasting and stand-up comedy has spanned more than four decades. Best known for his time as the affable and witty weatherman on KNBC in Los Angeles, Coleman seamlessly combined meteorology with humor, becoming a beloved presence in Southern California households. His career has evolved beyond television, as he has delved into live performances, podcasting, and philanthropy.
Born on May 27, 1948, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Coleman grew up in the suburb of Radnor. His early years were marked by a search for purpose, a sentiment he later reflected upon with humor. After attending Temple University and Salem University, he found direction when he enlisted in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War era. There, he was assigned to Armed Forces Radio and Television, an experience that allowed him to develop his skills as a broadcaster. It was also during this period that he first dabbled in weather reporting, albeit with no formal meteorological training.
Following his military service, Coleman worked in radio as a disc jockey and talk show host on the East Coast. However, a passion for stand-up comedy led him to move to Los Angeles in 1980, hoping to build a career in entertainment. Performing at The Comedy Store and other local venues, he caught the attention of an NBC news director who saw his act and offered him an unexpected opportunity: a weekend weathercasting job at KNBC. Though he initially hesitated, citing his lack of meteorological expertise, the station saw in him a natural communicator who could bring warmth and personality to the nightly weather forecast.
By 1984, Coleman had become KNBC’s primary weekday weathercaster, a position he would hold for nearly 40 years. His engaging style, which mixed lighthearted humor with reliable forecasts, made him a fixture in Los Angeles media. Unlike the more formal approach of many meteorologists, Coleman used humor to make the often repetitive task of weather reporting engaging. His ability to improvise and ad-lib became especially useful during live broadcasts, where unexpected technical glitches or breaking news required quick thinking.
While his career at KNBC was defined by his on-air charisma, Coleman also ventured into comedy and theater, writing and performing multiple one-man shows. Productions such as It’s Me, Dad! and The Reception showcased his ability to blend humor with personal storytelling, a style he later carried into his stand-up specials. His comedic work earned him appearances on The Tonight Show, where he performed alongside Johnny Carson and Jay Leno, as well as opportunities to open for entertainers such as Ray Charles and Debbie Reynolds.
In June 2020, Coleman announced his retirement from KNBC, closing a chapter on a career that had made him one of Los Angeles’ most recognizable media figures. Retirement, however, did not mean stepping away from public life. He soon co-founded the Media Path Podcast with Louise Palanker, a show that explores media history and current events with guest interviews. The podcast allowed Coleman to continue engaging with audiences in a different format, discussing culture, news, and personal anecdotes.
He also returned to the stage, launching Unassisted Living, a comedy show centered on aging and life in one’s seventies. Hosted monthly at the El Portal Theatre in North Hollywood, the show has become the longest-running act at the venue, drawing audiences who appreciate Coleman’s observational humor about growing older. The success of Unassisted Living has extended to streaming, with a filmed special titled Unassisted Residency available on Tubi.
Beyond his career in entertainment, Coleman has remained an active member of the Los Angeles community. He has served as the honorary mayor of Toluca Lake for nearly three decades, a largely ceremonial role that he has embraced with humor. His contributions to public service have earned him accolades, including a Humanitarian Award from the U.S. House of Representatives and recognition as a “Treasure of Los Angeles.” His philanthropic efforts include supporting wildfire recovery initiatives and environmental causes, reflecting his belief in using his platform to give back.
Coleman’s enduring appeal lies in his ability to connect with audiences, whether through television, comedy, or community work. His career has been defined not just by longevity but by an adaptability that has allowed him to navigate different forms of media while staying true to his affable and comedic voice. At a time when broadcast journalism has grown increasingly fast-paced and digital, Coleman’s legacy is a reminder of the power of personality and authenticity in media.
Yitzi: Before we dive in deep, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share the story of your childhood and how you grew up?
Fritz: Sure. I grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in the western suburbs of the city. Then I went to Temple University for two years and another college for two years. I was just drifting. I had no idea why I was walking around on the planet. You know how it is when you’re in your late teens and early 20s — you’re clueless about your purpose.
This was during the time of the draft, in the late ’60s and early ’70s. If your college GPA dropped below a certain point, you lost your student deferment. Well, I fell well below that window. So I got a notice from the Defense Department: “Please come and see us for a physical. We’re considering you for employment.”
I went down to North Broad Street in Philadelphia for my physical, and I had this premonition about what my life would be. This was the peak of the Vietnam War, the last third of it, and anyone drafted into the Army was almost certain to be sent to Vietnam. Now, I had no problem serving my country — I was proud to — but I just knew I wanted to do it in a non-gun-oriented capacity. So I immediately enlisted in the Navy.
In the Navy, I wanted to work in media, so I got assigned to Armed Forces Radio and Television. I was on a ship for three and a half years — the USS John F. Kennedy out of Norfolk, Virginia. That opportunity taught me so much. I did the news, I hosted a four-hour radio show, and I even did the weather — despite knowing absolutely nothing about it. They didn’t care if you were a meteorologist; they just wanted someone who could communicate the information.
When I got out of the Navy, I had already started dabbling in stand-up comedy. Since I was in radio, I got invited to work at nightclubs as a host. I started writing material just to be an entertaining emcee, but I quickly became hooked on getting laughs on stage. So in 1980, I moved to California to pursue a career in stand-up comedy.
Now, I promise this story has a point. In 1982, I was working as a staff performer at The Comedy Store on Sunset Boulevard — a very famous comedy club out here. One night, a friend of mine who worked at NBC brought his boss and his boss’s wife to see my show. On stage, I told a story about how I had been forced to do the weather in the Navy without knowing a thing about meteorology, but the Navy didn’t seem to care. They just wanted someone to deliver the forecast.
After my set, I went backstage to meet this guy. Turns out, he was the news director at NBC in Los Angeles. He said, “This is a weird question, but do you have any interest in doing some vacation relief weather casting for me at Channel 4? I need help on weekends. My main weather guy hasn’t had a vacation in a year, and I really need someone to fill in.”
I laughed and said, “You did hear me say that I did the weather but don’t actually know anything about it, right?”
He said, “Perfect. There’s no weather in Southern California — this will be great.”
At the time, I was making $25 a night at The Comedy Store, so I thought, “Oh my God, when do I start?” I auditioned, got the job, and became the fill-in guy for two years. Then, when the main weatherman left, I got bumped up to the weekday evening weather job. I did the 5, 6, and 11 o’clock news for 40 years.
I retired four years ago, and now I’m back to doing stand-up and having a great time. So, in a way, comedy got me my job in weather, and now I’ve come full circle.
That was a long story — sorry! But I had to get all the facts in there.
Yitzi: It’s an amazing story. So really, your story begs the question — why can’t every weatherman do what you did? Why is it necessary to have a meteorology background?
Fritz: Well, you know what? I’ll tell you — if I had to apply for the job now, I wouldn’t get it. Weather has become so competitive, especially because of climate change. Plus, when I was on the air in LA, there were only three stations — ABC, NBC, and CBS. Now, there are five to nine stations doing news at the same time. It’s immensely competitive, and you really have to know what you’re talking about because of the changing climate conditions.
I don’t have a degree in meteorology. I went to school for radio, television, and film, so I wouldn’t even be considered today. The only thing I brought to the table at the beginning of my career was good timing and a little luck.
I now live in the San Fernando Valley, in the Toluca Lake area. I’ve actually been the honorary mayor of this town for 28 years. I have yet to be given any responsibilities — which, honestly, is the best kind of mayor to be. It’s a lot of fun!
Yitzi: Is everyone safe from the fires?
Fritz: Yes, but in Southern California, everyone knows someone who has been affected — whether it’s an acquaintance or a peripheral connection. Even for those of us who are used to dealing with brush fires every year and an expanding fire season, it’s still hard to wrap our heads around the destruction. The human cost, the physical devastation — it’s just unbelievable.
But I’ll tell you what’s been inspiring, and it actually ties into what your previous guest was talking about. In times like these, our greatest human qualities tend to emerge. We look out for one another, we treat others the way we’d want to be treated if we were the ones suffering. This town has been incredible in its outpouring of support — money, affection, and a sense of community. It’s been really moving to see.
And on that note, I have a residency at a theater in North Hollywood called the El Portal Theater. I do a show there once a month called Unassisted Living. It’s geared toward people of a certain age. For our January show, we decided to donate 100% of the proceeds to the Wildfire Recovery Fund, which is part of the California Community Foundation. The fund helps people find housing, navigate insurance and medical issues, and get mental health support if they need it.
We were so lucky — the public response was overwhelming. The January show did so well that we decided to do it again in February, and we sold out. That show is happening on February 23rd. And now, we’re going to do it again in March. So for three months straight, we’re donating 100% of our profits to the Wildfire Recovery Fund.
It’s a small theater, so we’re not putting anyone back in a million-dollar home in Pacific Palisades, but that’s not the point. People want to feel empowered to help, and this is a way they can do it.
Yitzi: That’s so beautiful. Were there moments on live television when your comedic experience and instincts took over while delivering the weather?
Fritz: Yes, absolutely. The thing about working in comedy clubs is that you’re often performing at one o’clock in the morning to a room full of drunks. So after that, there’s really nothing that can be thrown at you that you can’t fight your way out of.
On TV, we’d have computer issues at least once or twice a week — something would go wrong, and you had to respond quickly, be reactive, and ad-lib your way through it. I loved those moments. Everybody else would be freaking out — the main anchors would panic — but I thrived on it because that’s when you got a real, unscripted moment. And honestly, those are often the moments people remember the most. Two weeks later, someone in a grocery store will say, “I loved that thing where the glass fell in the studio and crashed,” or whatever unexpected thing happened.
So to answer your question — yes, my comedy background absolutely gave me the confidence to handle any situation that went sideways on live TV.
And as the weatherman at a TV station, my job was a little different from the rest of the news team. From April to November — before climate change really started shifting things — the forecast in Los Angeles was basically the same every day: “Morning clouds and fog, hazy afternoon sun, highs in the low 70s.” My challenge was to find new ways to say that same phrase every day and deliver it with enthusiasm like I’d never said it before.
I always used to say that my job as the weatherman was to be the palate cleanser between the tragedy at the top of the show and the sports segment. You come into people’s living rooms every night, and you become part of their lives. Since the weather was so predictable for long stretches of time, I had room to be funny, lighthearted, or at least add a little humor. I always believed that weather should be the least threatening part of the newscast — on a nice day, at least. So if I could give people a momentary escape from the stresses of their day, that was the real joy of the job for me.
Yitzi: That’s great. So, can you give us a few examples of how you would say “morning clouds and fog” in different ways?
Fritz: Well, yes. On Monday, I’d say, “Morning clouds and fog, hazy afternoon sun.” Then on Tuesday, I might say, “Remember how it was yesterday? We’re going to do that again today.” And by Wednesday, I’d say, “If you’d like to know the weather, just look out the window — nothing’s changed.” You know, that kind of thing.
Yitzi: So, how is it different now? Why is it more difficult? Is it because the weather is always changing?
Fritz: Yes. Our recent fires are a perfect example of these unexpected shifts in weather. We have what are called Santa Ana winds. In the Rockies, they’re known as Chinook winds. These are really strong, gusty winds that come out of the mountains, and as they move downward, they get warmer and drier.
Here in Southern California, the Santa Ana winds come down from the mountains toward the coast, and they can be incredibly volatile. During the last fire outbreak, we had 80, 90, even 100-mile-an-hour winds that lasted for weeks. Combine that with 5 to 10% relative humidity — most places in the U.S. can’t even imagine humidity that low. It means the air is completely devoid of moisture.
So when you have powerful winds, no humidity, and dry trees and brush — because we’re always in a semi-drought situation — one spark from a downed power line or an exploded propane tank, and suddenly, it’s off to the races.
It used to be that we had specific seasons for these winds — October and November. But now, because of climate change, we have the potential for them year-round. All bets are off.
There are plenty of debates about climate change — how much of it is man-made and so on. But weathermen don’t focus on that. Their job is simply to predict what’s going to happen tomorrow. And in my entire career, I’ve never seen such extremes in temperature, wind speeds, hurricanes, tornadoes — the sheer number and strength of these events — like I have in just the last year. It’s been unbelievable.
Yitzi: Can you share one or two favorite stories that stand out in your mind from your career on television?
Felix: Well, as a comedian, my greatest experience was doing The Johnny Carson Show. When you’re a young comic and you get a chance to perform on Carson, I always say that’s like your comedy bar mitzvah. It means you’ve arrived — you’re considered a professional. I did The Tonight Show eight times with Johnny Carson, Joan Rivers, Gary Shandling, and Jay Leno. Those are the moments that fill my heart the most.
As for my weather job, my greatest experiences were years ago, maybe 15 years or more. Back then, they would send our entire news team to the Olympics. NBC had the rights to the Olympics for many years, and they used to send around 100 people to cover the news for three weeks at whichever Olympic venue it was. I got to do that for two Olympics — one in Seoul, Korea, and the other in Atlanta.
Being there, in the middle of all the excitement, surrounded by athletes and people from 165 countries, all getting along, all peaceful, was incredible. Many of them spoke English, and I had some amazing conversations. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.
Now, the Atlanta Olympics were a little different. I don’t know if people remember or even care, but Atlanta had this venue called Olympic Park. It was a big circular area where all the family-oriented events took place. We broadcasted from there every day, doing the weather and news for Los Angeles, which was three hours behind Atlanta time.
The setup was interesting — there were fiber optic boxes placed around the park, so our cameraman could plug into different locations and go live from various spots. One night, I was doing the weather near the stage where performances were held. I had just finished the weather for the 11:00 PM news in LA, which meant it was around 2:15 AM in Atlanta. I walked back to our little Quonset hut, and right then, a huge explosion went off — exactly where I had just been standing. That was the Olympic Park bombing.
I don’t know if you remember that, but it was terrifying. Several people were killed, 200 were injured, and the attack was carried out by a radical extremist protesting Planned Parenthood. It took a long time to track him down, and in the meantime, one of the security guards at the park was falsely accused. It was unbelievable. But the thought that the bomb went off just 15 feet from where I had been standing — it shook us to our core.
We were up for two nights straight, covering the news. During that time, we met people from all over the world — Ethiopia, Ghana, Jamaica. I remember asking them, “Aren’t you scared after what just happened? This bone-shattering bomb went off, people were killed…” And their response shocked me. They said, “You Americans are so spoiled. We deal with things like this every day, every week. We get over it quickly.”
That was an eye-opener. We weren’t used to that kind of terrorism, and it left us terrified. But for them, it was just another day. It was unbelievable.
Yitzi: Okay, so please tell us a bit about your one-man show Unassisted Living and how it started.
Felix: I’ve been doing stand-up for almost 50 years now. About 25 years ago, I discovered a new format for myself, and I even made up a name for it — I call it a “single-topic monologue.” Basically, I take one idea and write a full hour-and-a-half show about it.
My first one was called It’s Me, Dad, which was about being a divorced father. Then I did The Reception, which was about what happens during divorce. After that, I did Tonight at 11, a show about the news. Then I did my first show about aging called Defying Gravity, which was all about that moment of, “Oh my God, I’m getting old — what’s going to happen to me?”
Now, this show, Unassisted Living, is about, “I’m old, and I can’t do anything about it.” I spend an hour and a half describing the common experience of aging — what it’s like to be a grandparent, what it was like having your grandkids home during the pandemic, all the changes that happen to your body, your mind, and your family life.
This residency I have at the El Portal Theatre is for Unassisted Living. We’ve been performing there for over a year, selling out shows once a month, and we’re going to keep going indefinitely. We’re having an absolute blast.
Because we felt it was a worthy cause and wanted to bring people together, we decided to donate 100% of our profits for the last two months — and now March as well — to people suffering from the fires. The response has been unbelievable.
Yitzi: Amazing. This is our signature question — can you share five things you need to create a successful career in live arts, whether in comedy or Broadway, or theater?
Felix: That’s a great question.
Okay, number one: Don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t do it. If this is your passion, if you know in your soul that you were meant to do this, then nobody can tell you otherwise. Do not be dissuaded.
Number two: Do all the prep work. Study the greats. I studied the writing styles, performing styles, and presentations of many comics. Then, you just have to get out there and do it. You only get better by doing it. Comedy isn’t just an art form — it’s a craft. You have to learn how to work on stage and, more importantly, how to find your true voice.
Number three: Figure out who you are. In comedy, in the news business, in entertainment in general, you will spend the first part of your career figuring out what makes you unique. What do you do best? What is it about you that makes you appealing to an audience? Once you find that, lean into it. Write to it. Build on it.
Number four: Be willing to start small. A lot of people dream of making it big right away, but that’s not how it works. LA is the second-largest media market in the country — most people don’t start here. I didn’t have to because I got my start in Armed Forces Television for three and a half years. But most people begin in smaller markets — Fresno, San Luis Obispo — places where you can figure out who you are without the pressure of a major city. You won’t make a lot of money at first, but that’s okay. You’ll make mistakes, and in those smaller markets, mistakes aren’t catastrophic. You’ll learn, grow, and work your way up.
And finally, number five: Take care of yourself — physically and spiritually. This is a long game. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. If you take care of yourself, stay committed, and keep pushing forward, you’ll have a fantastic career.
Yitzi: Because of your great work and the platform you’ve built, you’re a person of enormous influence. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the most good to the most people, what would that be?
Felix: That’s a great question. It’s a big question. I don’t know that I have one specific answer, but I’ll tell you what I try to teach my children. Some of them are more driven by making a big paycheck than others, but I always tell them — regardless of what you do for a living, regardless of how much money you make, your greatest satisfaction in life will come from sharing yourself with others.
If you do things for other people, if you step outside of yourself and work to make others’ lives better, then you’re fulfilling your purpose as a human being — and that will bring you real happiness. No amount of money can give you that same feeling.
I think we’re at a time now where we’re really seeing this play out. The fires are just one example, but the deep political divide in our country is an even bigger one. We just have to love one another and make our neighbors feel like they belong on this planet too. I know that might sound grandiose, but it’s truly how I feel. And I’ve never felt it more strongly than I have over the last couple of years.
Yitzi: So important, and I couldn’t agree more. So, Felix, how can our readers watch your show? How can they support your work?
Felix: Well, that’s very kind of you to ask. I have a special airing on Tubi called Unassisted Living. Tubi is a free streaming platform — you just have to watch a few commercials.
But if you’re in the Los Angeles area, I’d love to see you at the live show! We perform every month at the El Portal Theatre on Lankershim Boulevard in North Hollywood. It’s a spectacular historic theater that originally started as a vaudeville house — Bob Hope and Red Buttons performed there. Later, it became a movie palace, and stars like Debbie Reynolds would ride their bikes there as kids to watch movies. She even performed there throughout her life, and they eventually named a stage after her — the Debbie Reynolds Stage.
We do our show in the 100-seat theater there, and we’d love to have you. I’ll tell you this — there’s no politics in my show. Nothing designed to irritate the audience. I believe comedians have a responsibility today to give people a break from the chaos of the world. My goal is to help people escape for an hour, to focus on what we all have in common. That’s what my whole show is about — the shared experiences of aging, both good and bad. You’ll have a great time.
And if you come in March, 100% of the proceeds will go to the wildfire recovery fund. You can find tickets at elportaltheatre.com.
Yitzi: Thank you so much for this amazing interview.
Felix: Thank you for giving me the chance to talk about it. I appreciate it. You did a great job.
Yitzi: That means a lot. Really means a lot coming from you. I hope we can do this again next year.
Felix: Anytime.
Live Arts: Fritz Coleman On The 5 Things You Need To Create A Highly Successful Career in Broadway… was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.