San Diego’s Look of ‘Today’: Baby Goats, Jane and Bryant, and Willard Scott on a Bike

The scene: a circle of NBC production trailers in the Embarcadero Marina Park, next to Seaport Village, with the official “Today” show catamaran anchored nearby and a blimp floating overhead. Members of a roller skating troupe in black tights limber up. Sandra Bartosh, a financial planner dressed as an orangutan--the Official Media Hostess for the Convention & Visitors Bureau--walks around, acting sort of orangutanish. Two baby Nubian ibex, on loan from the San Diego Zoo, nervously stand by the main stage, looking confused, apparently wondering why they weren’t given any breakfast this morning.

The “Today” show has come to town.

More important, Willard Scott is here.

The few hundred spectators gathered in the park screamed when the paunchy, balding weatherman arrived. He worked the crowd like a master, slapping backs and signing autographs.

“He’s the best schmoozer I’ve ever seen,” KNSD-TV (Channel 39) General Manager Neil Derrough said.

Scott jumped on a miniature bicycle and donned a Coast Guard cap as the adoring crowd gathered ‘round. Nearby, Mayor Maureen O’Connor, Union-Tribune Publisher Helen Copley and Padres owner Joan Kroc shared insights with each other.

The three were guests on the show, taped Thursday afternoon for airing Friday morning, along with the ibex, the roller skaters and a few other things the show’s producers consider unique to San Diego.

Periodically, “Today” hits the road, bringing the show to the people, giving the program a fresh look and making kissy face with the local network affiliates. The San Diego stop was the last on a weeklong West Coast tour. Channel 39, the local NBC affiliate, had been making a big deal of giving away tickets to the broadcast.

“It focuses a lot of attention on the affiliates,” Channel 39 Program Director Penny Martin said.

Uninterested in the relationship between a major network and its affiliates, the crowd was mainly on hand to see Willard.

“I don’t like (‘Today’ co-host) Bryant Gumbel,” said Anna Martinez of Yuma, Ariz., who was ready with video camera in hand an hour and a half before the taping was set to begin. “From watching the show, I don’t like his attitude. Willard seems really down to earth.”

The producers acknowledge that a major reason for taking the show on the road is to get Scott out among the people.

“I belong out here,” Scott said, shortly after signing an autograph for Channel 39 reporter Susan Farrell’s mother.

A few feet away, in a tiny mobile home, show co-host Jane Pauley ate lunch and studied her script. She has to do a little extra homework for the road editions of the show--they don’t use a TelePrompter on location.

“This is like a field trip,” she said. “Like going to Washington, D.C., when you’re in high school.”

That morning, a local radio show had called her hotel room at 6 a.m. She hung up on them. At first, she said, she felt guilty about hanging up. But later she decided she didn’t care.

She glanced at the script, but didn’t seem too worried about it. She was more interested in a card from a La Jolla man who claimed to be a distant relative.

“The show is less dependent on my performance on the road,” she said. “Most important is Willard. He’s at least 50% of the show. Nobody works a crowd like Willard.”

Just a few minutes before the taping was set to begin, the production crew members, who were on the site at 5:30 a.m.--a relatively late start for them--were lounging around, looking rather disinterested. Except for a few sagging stages, which might cause cameras to jiggle, there have been few problems.

The crew’s one concern was getting Willard Scott to Sea World in time for his first weather report. But they were not extremely worried. This was not Real Time. It was on tape. Scott was doing tomorrow’s weather today.

“The other day, in San Francisco, he was supposed to get a cable car, and he didn’t make it,” Executive Producer Marty Ryan said. “We just put it in later. We go hard, but it’s not quite the pressure of a live broadcast.”

Members of the audio crew milling about the stage were simply thankful that they had solved a pre-production noise problem. During technical rehearsals two weeks ago, there was a periodic blast of static from an unknown source.

“I’ve done concerts, World Series and never seen anything like it,” engineer Bruce Bodor said.

The noise “hits” were caused by radar from passing Navy ships, it turned out. That solved, many of the 50 crew members were talking about where to party in San Diego.

A few minutes before taping was to begin, Gumbel emerged from his trailer. He waved at a few fans, deflected attempts at conversation with a short “After work,” and quickly made his way to one of several areas roped off for the taping. The San Diego Symphony was setting up a few feet away.

The main stage had two small sets--one for two people to sit, the other for four people--with the bay and gleaming Marriott hotel in the background. A row of lights and cameras almost obscured the program’s stars from the audience, who were left to view the taping on monitors set up around the area.

Gumbel and Pauley took their positions to a round of applause. It was 1 p.m. on a sunny Thursday afternoon, but it was 7 a.m. on Friday as far as the production staff was concerned.

Gumbel was cued to open the show.

“We’re about as far south as we can go,” he said.