LOS ANGELES -- Don't tell Fritz Coleman it's no fun getting old.

Coleman spent almost four decades as NBC4's whimsical weatherman, a key player in what was arguably the most veteran broadcast news team in Los Angeles. More than five years after retiring as one of TV's most recognizable and distinctive personalities, he has transitioned to riffing on weathering the ravages of aging.

He will mark the second anniversary of his residency at North Hollywood's El Portal Theatre Sunday by performing his one-man show "Unassisted Living."

"This show is about all the relatable stuff that people go through when they reach a certain age," Coleman, 77, said recently inside the Monroe Forum auditorium where he performs.

The monthly matinee ("The show starts at 3 p.m. so the baby boomers don't have to drive home in the dark") is a full-circle moment for the former weatherman, returning him to his stand-up roots. He had little knowledge of weather when he was first hired by the station to do weather reports as a fill-in. What started as a temporary job eventually turned into a full-time stint, and although he's not on storm watch anymore, "Unassisted Living" is Coleman's response to a different kind of storm.

"The beauty of this show is that there are no politics, and people appreciate that so much," he said. "I don't remind people of the darkness outside the building. I just talk about the things that bring us together as an aging population. Some have described it as a baby boomer support group. If you have a Medicare card, you need to come see this show."

Among his observations are the shock of discovery, particularly when it comes to the body. "You know you're getting old when various parts of your body decide to make changes without notifying you ahead of time," Coleman said. He also riffs on sex in the golden years. "Men in the audience love it. The women are embarrassed but they also love it."

He also welcomes younger audiences: "I say 40- to 50-year-old people will laugh just as hard. They can use this show as a cautionary tale. If you make it to a certain age, this is what you will experience."

Sitting at one of the theater's small tables, Coleman, with his slim build, silver hair and round glasses, looked much the same as he did when he said farewell in 2020. Because of the pandemic, he had spent much of the year doing his reports from his Toluca Lake home instead of NBC4's Burbank studio.

Although he loved his job and his connection to viewers, he was ready to say goodbye: "Even if you love what you do, 40 years is long enough."

Before his retirement, Coleman had what he called a "couple of minor scares" — none of them life-threatening.

"I have grandchildren, and I want to be healthy enough to do all the other things in life I want to do," he said. "I'm on the board of three nonprofits. And I can spend more time writing and performing."

Coleman finds continual inspiration for his comedy, and he feels fortunate that he "found this niche totally by accident — the common experience of getting old. People appreciate that rather than talk about what separates us, which is the topical and current events comedy of the day, like the Bill Mahers and others.

"I love them. They're so bright at what they do," he added. "But it's a separationist sort of act — us and them. Mine is not about that."

Coleman said his monologue is continually updated."I spend about an hour or two each day writing, and with every show I'm adding new material. I sit on my couch with a legal pad and pencil and just put down my thoughts. In my living room, I'm hysterical."

The new focus leaves Coleman with little time to be nostalgic about his former days as a top TV weatherman and working alongside co-anchors Colleen Williams and Chuck Henry, and sports anchor Fred Roggin.

"I don't miss the job," he said. "But I miss the people. We had a great news team — we were like the longest-running news team in town."

Since Coleman's departure, Henry and Roggin have also left NBC4, leaving only Williams, who still anchors evening newscasts.

With his schedule, Coleman does not often tune in to local news. "I watch it very little, unless there is something of consequence," he said.

But he has watched enough to see a shift in how stations cover the news.

"I was hired for my personality, but that has all changed," Coleman said. "Before, the evening newscasts were like what the morning news is now, informal and more casual. Viewers related to the anchors, and everyone was like family. I would get five minutes to do the weather. I described my job as being a palette cleanser between 'the world is going to end' and 'here's what the Dodgers did today.'

"The business is so different now," he added. "There are up to eight newscasts all running simultaneously. There's so much more competition now. And there's also America's short attention span."

In addition, Coleman is acutely aware that he would not be able to skirt qualifications for a TV weatherman job as he had previously when former NBC4 news director Steve Antonetti hired him, impressed by his demeanor after seeing him perform at Santa Monica's Horn nightclub. Coleman's routine included a block about doing weather reports for Armed Forces Radio when he served in the Navy.

"I would not get that job today till I had the American Meteorological Society seal or a degree in meteorology or atmospheric sciences," Coleman said. "It's a big deal. I could not get by being Mr. Fun Guy everyday."

While retirement has not dulled the inviting warmth that Coleman displayed in his daily reports, he became more irritated when asked about the Trump administration's continual attacks on climate change, calling it a hoax.

"Denying that climate change is real is an irresponsible ploy," he said. "Every scientist worth his or her salt on the planet understands it is real, and it's inhumane to call it a hoax. It affects me because it's the one part of the big lie that I've experienced in my career."

He feels fortunate that he has his comedy stint to focus on, and he hopes it will continue long into the future.

"I've never been happier in my life than I am right now, and as long as we sell tickets, we will keep the show going," Coleman said. "Or we'll keep it going until I have to stop the show twice for pee breaks."

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

©2025 Los Angeles Times. Visit latimes.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC. ©2025 Los Angeles Times. Visit at latimes.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.