His way isn't halfway

If Scott Weaver sets out to do something big, chances are fairly good it'll make the news.

The myriad-talented supermarket produce manager was on national TV a few days ago, showing off what he's done to his Rohnert Park home -- now hidden behind hundreds of plywood cut-outs of exquisitely crafted cartoon and comics characters that between now and Christmas will draw huge crowds of spectators to Cielo Circle.

Indoors, a goodly chunk of the living room is taken up by the stunning, towering toothpick sculpture of San Francisco scenes that the 48-year-old Weaver took decades to create, and that last summer was the surprise people-pleaser at the Sonoma County Fair.

"My wife," he said as he gazed up at his 9-foot-tall toothpick masterpiece, "would love to get it out of here."

Weaver took up skateboarding as a teenager -- and went professional. A decade ago, he earned world-class status in Freestyle Frisbee competition. He loves to run and swim but isn't content with solitary laps; instead he he competes -- and well -- in triathlons and Alcatraz swims.

He doesn't do anything small. Three of the four amiable dogs that roam his home are Great Danes, and the fourth is so big it might as well be.

Back when Weaver was drinking, he didn't do that half-way, either. When he was a kid, his mostly absentee father was an alcoholic and he followed the old man to the bottle.

"There's a lot alcoholism in the family," said Weaver, who admits that before he got a grip on the addiction he was arrested three times for DUI. He displayed his mettle after the last arrest 10 years ago.

"That night was the last drink I had," Weaver said.

He's an ingenious and driven man, most grateful for three aspects of his abundant life: his 17-year-old son, Tyler; his wife, Rochelle; and his decade of sobriety.

"I wouldn't be doing this right now if I were drinking," he said during a tour of the handmade dreamland in his front yard.

Forever seeking new ways to test his abilities and to thrill and delight an audience, he'd love to try his hand as a fine artist. Spend a few minutes examining his pencil sketches or the studio-quality Aladdin characters, Dalmatians and other pieces out in his Christmas display, and his talent becomes clear.

But at this point, "I don't feel my work is valuable enough to sell," Weaver said.

So he spends hundreds of hours building over-the-top Christmas decorations and toothpick structures, and he invites the public to enjoy them for free.

People stand in awe before his imposing, elaborate, time-consuming creations and ask what compels him to produce them. He doesn't exactly know.

"Some psychotherapist would have a field day with me," he mused.

He does like to blame his age for his child-like fascination with giant toothpick sculptures and plywood Christmas characters taller than the house.

"I just turned 12 last year," he said. It's a leap year thing. He was born Feb. 29, 1960, and has an actual birthday only every four years.

"People tell me I act I my age," he said. He also knows this about himself: "I love creating something that's unique or different than what most people do."

"I just like to make people happy," he added. "I've always been the person who likes to make people happy."

Weaver grew up in Marin County and began drawing about the time he could hold a pencil. He first delighted the public with his artwork when word traveled at Terra Linda High (he was in the Class of 1978) that he was great at drawing fanciful caricatures of cars.

"High school friends used to bring their cars by and I'd draw them, except I'd put big tires on them, and pipes coming out of the engines," Weaver recalled.

"I'd make them look like cartoon hot-rods."

His chosen profession doesn't allow for a great deal of creative expression -- he's worked 30 years for Lucky supermarkets and currently manages the produce department at the Novato store.

But all his life he has drawn and painted and painstakingly glued toothpicks into fantastic shapes.

The sensational Christmas display that attracted a "Good Morning America" crew to his house started humbly in 1994, the year he remarked to Rochelle, "Hey, I can make my own snowman and a couple of candy canes."

Fourteen years later, people around the world are watching an ABC video (abcnews.go.com/GMA) of the 200-plus custom characters and 15,000 lights in Weaver's Winter Wonderland. And already he's dreaming up ways to ratchet up the wow factor next Christmas.

When wide-eyes folks behold what he's made, said the restless artist, "It's all worth it."