One of my favorite shows as a kid was “Batman the Animated Series.”

There was this one particular episode I remember where Batman is fighting Clayface, a man who is genetically transformed so that he can shapeshift himself into whatever he desires. In that episode Clayface loses control of his abilities and begins to rapidly shapeshift. Within five seconds, he transforms into about 15 different characters: a cowboy, an astronaut, a soldier, a vampire, a pirate, a boxer, a knight then a doctor.

He ultimately collapses because his body can’t decide what it wants to be.

Western Washington weather is just like Clayface.

Eastern Washington long ago settled into its identity as a dry aired, scalding hot summer and frigid winter climate like the golden child it is.

But when it comes to weather, Western Washington is like the 28-year-old guy who’s on his 10th year of college, and keeps switching his major from communications to biology to engineering to dental hygiene because he can’t come to terms with his identity.

For tourists visiting this area at any point of the year is like playing roulette with their vacation in terms of time and money.

This morning (Thursday) was a prime example of this: I woke up with rays of sun piercing through my blinds. As I left for work there was a sudden downpour of rain.

Then, as I drove down Interstate 90, there was an apocalyptic skyline, half-blue and half-murky. Driving between Squak and Tiger Mountain, I saw the remnants of recent snowfall.

In other words, within a 40 minute commute, I experienced what life is like in Ireland, Germany and Middle Earth during Sauron’s invasion.

This might be fun if it were a ride at Disneyland, but when you’re trying to get dressed for the day, it’s helpful to know what to expect.

As an Eagle Scout, I know I’m supposed to “Be Prepared,” but in my defense, Baden Powell, the founder of Boy Scouts, lived in England, where it’s always foggy at seven o’ clock in the morning and rainy. To be prepared there, all you needed was an umbrella.

My friend loves to watch a show called “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.” Aside from the moral depravity and nihilism of the characters in it, I am quite fond of the title.

If we were to create a similar show here, however, the title couldn’t fit on the screen, because it would have to read, “It’s Always Rainy in Seattle….oh, wait, it’s snowing….never mind, it’s melting now….okay, now it’s really raining….oh, look, a sun break!”

In fact, Western Washington weather reminds me of Dug the dog from the Pixar film “Up!”

Incidentally, if our weather could talk, its dialogue would be eerily the same.

“Hello Washingtonians, it looks like it might actually be sunny to-rain!”

To be honest, the rain doesn’t bother me that much. Yes, it would be preferable to confine it exclusively to the springtime. That’s all we ask or want. Just some regularity.

To quote the King of Swamp Castle from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “It’s quite simple.”

In a perfect world, it would rain a generous amount only during the spring. In the summer, there would be a tad bit of rain or cloud cover, but mostly long days of mild to warm temperatures.

Then in the fall it would start to cool, but remains sunny, followed by winter, which would be cold and contain a tolerable amount of snow.

But it doesn’t and this has slowly affected our natural dispositions.

It’s why we’re automatically suspicious of anyone who claims to actually enjoy the musical “I’m Singing in the Rain.”

We don’t sing in rain here. We brood until we’ve finished drinking our $10 cups of coffee and allow the caffeine to distract us from the fact that the weather outside of our office is changing faster than the dictator of a banana republic.

When Christmas time comes around, we consider the song “Let it snow” to be a hex and a jinx, because technically it will eventually snow, just until after the yuletide season has long passed and the Mariners are back playing in the Safeco Field.