All You Need is Love

Love Comes To Everyone.. 

happy Anniversary Baby

 

December 1 1969, the United States military institutes the first draft lottery since WWII.

This lottery produced no winners.

Merry Christmas kids.

Thanksgiving 1979

The house in Waldo. I shared this house with the two guys who ran the local haunted house. One of the very first remotes I ever did in KC was Friday night at the Main Street morgue. 

I made friends with John Peruca and Steve Koppel right off the bat. I was absolutely flabbergasted how many people were waiting in line to go through the house. I moved to KC in mid September so, I was very new to the place. I was living in a very nice but very drab apartment on JC Nichols Parkway. I got that apartment where I did, due to the gas shortage. It was right on the bus line and if necessary I could take the bus to work. The first remote in the big city at the haunted house was stunning. I showed up early as I normally do. It was such a mind fuck as I was immediately hailed as some hero. "The new guy, the new guy..." they kept shouting. This wasn't Moline anymore, kiddo. 

After a couple of Friday nights at the Morgue, we became friends and they were looking to get a place together. These guys worked their ass off from August to November and would make enough cash to not have to work the rest of the year. We chatted about it and decided we would all move in together. Oh boy.  The house in Waldo was right next door to the two houses. I mean RIGHT next door and that house was right next door etc.

Things were going well, the guys were working, I did their remotes and the drugs flowed freely. The most pure cocaine I've ever done happened at that house. It was so pure, it floated down to the mirror. Incredible. There came to a point where the guys shut down the haunted house, did some traveling and then returned to do basically nothing except more drugs.

I came home one Friday night to a house that was overflowing with people and a fight happening in the front yard. Jesus, what the hell is this? While I was on the air, it seems a bunch of friends descended on the house and declared it the evening's destination. I literally could not open the front door due to having too many people in the house. Fuck, this was some serious shit. I decided to go to my room. Lock the door from the inside and just hibernate, knowing it will be any minute now the cops will be called. 

It wasn't even a minute and apparently, it was their second visit of the night. As I opened the door to my room, someone had decided to use my bed as a "love connection." I turned on the light and said to the guy, "if you're not out of here in 5 seconds, I keep the girl and fuck her until she screams." "Too late," I said, I grabbed her and started to unbuckle my pants. They moved quickly. I was there from October to April and the last few weeks were pretty bizarre. I had my first revenge and anger fuck when I was there. One of Steve's girlfriends was very angry with him and I happened to be down the hall. I always liked her and thought she was too good for Steve, as Steve turned into being a dick due to an over abundance of drugs.

She knocked on the door and asked if I was busy, I was not then she just came out and said she was very mad at Steve and needed to take it out on someone. I was very flattered and I fulfilled her request. I was recently in touch with her and after all this time, I wanted to confirm we did have that night, as sometimes I look back thinking it was a dream, but no she did confirm we had a very nice time.

I thought so.

The end came right after the party. I may have been a night time rock and roll DJ on the most listened to radio station, but my mom did teach me some couth as we would say. I moved about six block away where a good guy record rep lived. He had a lot of house and just one guy. I took the one half of the house, he took the other.

The picture is of me...with a very prophetic Tshirt on. I really wasn't THAT high that night as it was Thanksgiving. Well, maybe. 

Also in the picture is John Perucca, a good guy who has battled demons all his life and now seems to be winning. In addition is one of my favorite human beings ever. Nobody sweeter than Hattie. She was in high school when this picture was taken, but she had more common sense than all of us guys out together and I'd point out that she still does. Unfortunately, Steve took his life about 15 years ago. 

That experience was like my cocaine experience. It stated out fun and stimulating and became a horror show. But, there were some fun times that happened there. Friends I still have today.

I told my stylist I wanted hair like Peter Frampton. I think she swung and missed. 

Sure would like that waist line back

Stephen Byes

In 1985, i was pretty excited to move to St. Louis. My life was very good in KC. I was in love with a beautiful woman, my air shift was only three hours long. I got off in time to catch The Royals on most nights. There was only one radio station I would leave KC for an that was KSHE 95.

I will tell the story later, but suffice to say that my arrival in St. Louis was met with underwhelming response.

In fact, one of the DJs at KSHE‘s first words to me were “why the hell do we need somebody from Kansas City to come in when I have St. Louis friends that are out of work. You’d better be good.”

Thanks for the warm welcome.

I was bullied for quite some time.

One of the very first people to reach out to me in St. Louis and tell me that I was doing a great job was one Stephen Byes.

I got to see him today after a very long time. It was wonderful to give him a big bear hug.

Dude, the white looks good on you.

Radio Ga Ga

While I hated the term Radio Ga Ga, this was their tribute to all of us who played their music day after day...

In 1985, they were done...finished...but for one day...one set...they redeemed themselves and made themselves relevant again....

Radio Ga Ga Live Aid 

I'd sit alone and watch your light

My only friend through teenage life

And ev'rything I need to know

I heard it on my radio

You gave them all those old time stars

Through wars of worlds - invaded by Mars

You made us laugh - you made us cry

You made us feel like we could fly

So don't become some background noise

A backdrop for the girls and boys

Who just don't know and just don't care

And just complain when you're not there

You have the time you have the power

You've yet to have your finest hour

Radio (Radio)

What's That You Say?

It gets louder as you get older....

 

The Greatest What If?

 Mrs. Dunsmore was the principal and she seemed to be a real bitch. It seemed she was devoid of any emotion. "Drink your milk" was her big advice “it’s only a pint.”

In the afternoon, she came on the loudspeaker at Hillcrest Elementary in East Moline and her voice was cracking when she spoke. "School will be dismissed as soon as the buses get here." She couldn't get out the rest of it.

"The president has been killed."

No one spoke, we put our books away and left our rooms. I remember I just had to get home. Walking through the halls to get to the buses, no one said anything but I remember hearing teachers crying, some wailing. Man, I was scared, I thought the world was ending.

We had just been through the Cuban missile crisis, and that was the very first time I ever saw my parents be scared.

No one spoke on the bus, the bus driver never said a word. I got off the bus, ran home and saw my mother with her head buried in her hands.

"This country will never be the same" she said. How correct she was.

My father cried when he watched the funeral. He NEVER cried.

I knew it was bad.

I remember it so vividly.

Parsley and Sage Advice

6 life-changing lessons from the biggest studies on human happiness

Sick of chasing happiness, instead of enjoying it? You may be stuck on what psychologists call the hedonic treadmill. Here's how you can step off it.

If you are of a certain age and you're wondering how to disrupt the routine without getting disrupted, here's some sage words of advice for you.

I practice this as much as I can. I  spend quality time with me when I want and need to.

https://www.sciencefocus.com/the-human-body/hedonic-treadmill

Current State

 

Brush With Greatness 167

 Kerry Livgren. 

This was taken 14 years ago, when Shooting Star was being inducted into the Kansas Music Hall of Fame. Kerry was previously inducted with Kansas, of course, but came to the Shooting Star gala. 

We didn't talk too much and I tried hard not to be a fan boy. I did tell him what his music meant to me and I thanked him for that.

He said thank you back and gave me a real nice warm handshake.

The First Time

There was a post on Facebook, some radio thread and the post was about your very first time on the air. 

 I remember it vividly. 

 It was March of 1971. 

I hung around with two other guys in Ava. 

Ava was smack dab between Springfield and West Plains in the southern central part of Missouri. Population was 2,502 and my graduating class would have been 68.

I hung around with two or three guys  from 7th through 10th grade. One was Tom Gunter and the other was Steve Faszholz. They were from complete different backgrounds. Tom didn't have a pot to piss in and Steve's family lived in the "rich" part of town. I was somewhere in the middle.

 

Steve's older brother Chuck somehow got on the local radio station. 

KSOA (Keeping Southern Ozarks Alerted) was on the south side of the square and up the stairs. The local station was staffed by local people and somehow, Chuck, while still in high school, got the afternoon drive job. I was pretty amazed at that since I wanted to be on the radio for as long as I could remember. I hounded Steve until Chuck would allow me to come up and see him on the air. I just wanted to watch. I remember walking up the stairs to the story that had a lot of activity going on. In the front of the office was the receptionist and a number of other people. They seemed to be busy.

I had spent a great deal of the time in the Faszholz residence. Chuck and I knew each other pretty well.

He was kind of a dick at times, but I think that was more big brother than anything else. He never really messed with me. I thought he was a good guy. And me, being in a radio station for the first time after having practiced this in my bedroom over and over again with only me hearing my greatness, this was almost outer worldly. I talked to the receptionist and she went to see Chuck. Man, I could see him through the windows talking on the mic!

He turned off the microphone, the light above the door went out and he motioned for me to come in. 

Oh my God. I was in an on air studio, where the whole thing comes from. It was totally outer worldly. He showed me what everything did, I got to see him at work, getting the carts ready, cueing up songs, preparing to speak, the whole nine yards!

This was one of the greatest days in my life!

He left the studio for a minute, went to the studio next door, grabbed a real long sheet of paper, tore it off and brought it back. He handed it to me and said "do you want to practice reading that?" I said, "sure, why?" He wanted me to just sit in studio, read it and he'll record it for me. "Sure," I said.

So I sat in the room and read the news stories over and over. He came in and said "when I point to you, I want you to read it just like that."

OK.

So, about five minutes later, the light went on in my studio, I read the newscast and nailed it. No mispronounced words and he told me to read it with a "steady pace." Geez, how did  Chuck know what to do so well? I look up and Chuck is playing a song and getting ready for the next break. He gestured to come in  and he handed me a cassette tape. There was my recording he promised me but with this addition. "Congratulations. My news guy was going to be late, so you just did my four o'clock news."

There, in my hand was a monumental recording. My very first time ever on the air anywhere. Just turned 15, I was beyond ecstatic. I went home and immediately played that tape over and over. I kept it with me for years and somewhere along the line of the countless moves I've made, it has disappeared.

I went back to the station with the tape to see if I could get hired. Chuck gave me a good recommendation. But as it went along, my parents announced we would be heading back to the Quad Cities due to my father's health. The closest hospital from Ava was an hour away and my father almost died en route after he had a heart attack at the farm. I was thrilled to be moving back to civilization, but damn the luck.

It was thisclose. 

That was the very first time. Late April 1971, KSOA Ava, Mo.

The station is now KKOZ AM/FM and it's syndicated 24/7 365. There might be people who sell time there, but every time I've been there in the last 15 years, there's no one live.

Fast forward a year and a half and phase two of Randy living a dream takes place

True Love

In September 1979, the week I left for Kansas City, President and Mrs. Carter took a paddle wheel trip down the Mississippi and stopped in Davenport at the radio building I had just given notice to. Pretty sure it was a campaign trip, but not certain. I remember the secret service being around the station for days and the day of his arrival it was a zoo. I did my show at 6am, so I was pretty much in the building and stayed there. The interview with the president was on the AM station, meanwhile Mrs. Carter could not have been any more kind sweet or gracious. It seemed she chatted with everyone and the term “southern belle” was invented for her. I also remember how pretty she was. Stunning woman I hung in the background as it wasn’t anything involving me. I just remember how cool it was to the in the same building as the President. When the interview was over, he shook every hand and gave that smile every time. He too was as gracious as could be. An impression I carry 44 years later as vivid as ever. If there was ever a first class one way ticket to heaven, she’s boarded, I’m afraid he’s about to. Married 77 years. Breathtaking.

Abe

Since I was a young boy of 5 or 6, I've had recurring dreams involving President Lincoln.

I have had probably over 100 dreams of him over the years.

He's very young in my dreams, early 20's or so.

We've been driving to the Florida keys together, that dream was so vivid, that I could feel myself getting queasy driving on all that water.

We were jumping rope one time, and I was amazed how good he was for being so tall.

We were in the park playing catch, and since he's pretty muscular, he's got one hell of a fastball.

We were sitting in the candle light, writing,

We've been to In and Out Burger together eating, etc. and they have all been very vivid and memorable.

We've has conversations together, he has a bit of a nasally sound to him

I have also seen him get shot a few times.

My father was born in the same town so maybe that's it, I don't know, maybe a weird spiritual line from then

Of all of the people, living or dead, there's a weird deal there. I haven't dreamed about him in awhile, either I'm due, or I have grown out of it. It would be too bad if I did.

Hide In Your Shell

 Mr. Hodgson, I presume?

For a few years before the Pandemic, Roger Hodgson would schedule two dates a year in St. Louis. They would sell out immediately. He did two dates a year for three years straight and I saw five of the six shows. To say he was great would be an understatement. When he walked out on stage, he would get a standing ovation. When he would finish each song, he would get a standing ovation. His band was sooo tight and his Supertramp songs were performed note for note. Even he would be surprised at the response to each tune he played. I think that's why he loved playing in St. Louis. KSHE sure helped fill those seat as they were very early believers in Supertramp. "Sister Moonshine," one of the "throwaway" songs of Supertramp was played regularly here. He was a very charming chap when I met him. Great conversationalist and a really good guy. This was taken November 13, 2016.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

“There is no question that when they broke up, Paul missed John and John missed Paul. I actually think Paul would like to write material today like he used to write. But there is no one alive now that can give him that spur.... Yet, don't forget, as a twosome they wrote nearly 300 great songs. That's more than Cole Porter or Irving Berlin or Jerome Kern ever did. That's certainly more than enough for one lifetime.'' – George Martin

Fortress of Solitude

When I was a young man and things troubled me, I would head to the comfort and security of my bedroom. Growing up as the son of an alcoholic left a number of scars. 

One of them was the feeling of abandonment.

My mother was a special person. She was kind, sweet, very giving and very funny. The McNew side of the family has always tried to "outfunny" each other. My uncles had great senses of humor and by DNA or whatever that trait was passed on to my mom.

She was also an alcoholic. I remember being in Kansas City, calling home and when she picked up the phone, I knew she was hammered. I threatened to never come home until she quit drinking. She hung up on me. It got worse as life went on. She started with Miller High Life and graduated to whiskey. She would drive like that. This was the time when an officer caught you drinking, you were given a ride home. She would be embarrassed but it would not stop her. More than a few time, the police would knock on the door and one of us had to ride with the cop and bring the car home.

I adored her. I still do and admire her knowing what kind of life she was exposed to as a child. I know she was physically abused and probably sexually abused, too. She had demons from her youth she just couldn't overcome. Smoking and drinking killed her at 62. I'm surprised she lasted that long. A very flawed but wonderful woman.

Growing up, she was there as much as possible, but coming home from school and trying to discuss my day, she would look at me and she just wasn't there. It just got to the point where I could tell whether I should talk to her that day or not right away. If not, I'd swallow whatever I had to say and head to my bedroom. It was at that time, my fortress of solitude. A place where I could go and find solace in music. I'd close the door and play DJ on my little cassette recorder or just listen to the radio while doing my homework, reading comic books or just listening to music. I'd burn some incense. At first, mom thought it was pot :)

It was comfortable and reassuring. I know then I would dream my bedroom was my house and no one could get me there. I was safe from the outside world. Sometimes, the outside world was cold and mean and unforgiving to a lonely high school kid.

Not in my bedroom. It was safe.

I have the same set up now. The house is the Fortress of Solitude, but in my room now, I'm safe and secure. No one can hurt me here. I have the same brand of incense and I'm even listening to the same music. It's comforting and soothing.

So, here I am, with Poutchuli and Musk incense, listening to Elton John and knowing for now, I'm alright. I can't say how 'll be when I leave here, but for right now, I'm safe.

 

Our House is a very fine house

Joni Mitchell and Graham Nash at Peter Tork's house on August 7th 1969 less than 2 weeks before Woodstock. Joni was supposed to go to Woodstock but didn't on the advice of her manger David Geffen because she had to appear on the Dick Cavett Show.

While in NYC she watched it on TV and ended up writing the song of her generation called "Woodstock". Tork who had been a member of 'The Monkees', left the group in 1969 and later moved to Marin County, California. David Crosby and Stephen Stills were also there at Tork's house that same day that this picture was taken. Joni was painting a watercolor portrait of Graham Nash outside on the terrace. Peter Tork didn't live in Laurel Canyon per se' but just north of the Canyon in Studio City.

Black and White

 At one time, I was mediocre at taking pictures.

Good Times

 

There's No Substitute For Red

The way we played yesterday will not get us past Buffalo.

Four sacks, no D line rushing, gotta be better than this, boys, but still undefeated

Electric Blue

What would I like for people to say after I'm dead?

"He was a good man."

I have many miles to go. Or maube not, 69 is coming soon.

Carl Sagan was a good man. It's his birthday.

He wrote our mission statement on this pale blue dot.

Today is the the anniversary of Carl Sagan's birth in 1934 and the day we celebrate his life, teachings and wisdom.

The image mentioned is The Pale Blue Dot. It is a photograph of Earth taken Feb. 14, 1990, by NASA’s Voyager 1 at a distance of 3.7 billion miles. Mr. Sagan shared his thoughts about this image in his book, The Pale Blue Dot. His words are timeless but also seem particularly relevant at this point in time.

“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. 𝙏𝙤 𝙢𝙚, 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣.”

― Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space

"Certified" Picker

 

https://acousticguitar.com/chet-atkins-certified-guitar-players/

Warriors

 

Five Years Ago Today

 

Iconic.

Legend.

Hall of Fame.

Kris Kristofferson.

In an incredibly subdued and classic performance, I was taken for a ride through many years of songwriting excellence. Backed by Merle Haggard's band, he made me laugh and cry. Many times.

His humorous take on "Okie From Muskogee" was very funny and caught the crowd by surprise.

At 80, I hope to be not drooling on someone. At 80, he was as smooth as ever.

A word to the wise. The show starts promptly at 8 and he gets a lot of his bigger stuff out of the way early.

"Me and Bobby McGee" was about three songs into his first set.

"Here Comes That Rainbow Again", "For the Good Times", "Help Me Make It Through the Night", "Sunday Morning Coming Down", "Why Me Lord?" "Now till Forever"...etc etc.

Incredible. Just words and music backed by a stripped down band of veterans.

This was one best behaved crowds too. No talking because he sings so softly.

His book of songs is mind blowing..

Thanks to Scott Mackey for the picture.

The Uptown Theatre Kansas City, Mo.

Welcome Back

It looks like this is where I'm going to park my stuff for the time being. 

For some reason, people keep wanting me to write a book. This is probably the closest thing to it I will get. Here's the thought on not writing a book. I know I have a lot of friends, but I honestly don't think there are enough of them to even begin.

The publishers would want a large pre order. When I thought about putting together a podcast while working for Cumulus, I was told I had to have at least 5,000 followers.

That's about as far as the conversation went.

So, I will post here my thoughts and feelings about what's happening in my head and at this point, my head is NOT right. Since Tuesday, I have felt this overwhelming dread of the future. I know what's in store and the people who voted for Trump are thinking what he does will not affect them. What he does will affect everyone. His tariffs will raise prices on EVRYTHING. I find it so overwhelming we voted in a person who doesn't understand what tariffs do. He is the dumbest man ever to run for President. 

For some reason, I feel I must apologize to my ancestors and thank them for saving us from fascism. They only delayed it by 70 or so years, but I appreciate the sacrifice they put in to fight a war against Hitler and Japan. If war break out in Europe (Trump had given Putin the green light), I'm afraid we will be fighting with the fascists and not against them

I love history, it's what I studied in high school and college. Somewhere in the last 40 years or so, the basic tenets of government were not taught. I feel this started with Ronald Reagan. Whatever the reason, we have the dumbest electorate making decisions for the rest of us. Now, instead of people working in Washington to lift us up, we know have people in place to blow the whole democracy to shreds.

I can't go any further though but to thank Rush Limbaugh for his 30 years of calling liberals, "the greatest threat to democracy. " I believe his words were..."Russia and China are not our enemies. the true enemy of the people are liberals. They are the biggest threat to this country." So, after two generations of yelling fire in a crowded theatre (and no one doing anything about it,) here we are.

I have very little faith we will be free again in my lifetime. Trump and his cronies will jury rig the system and our elections will be the puppet Putin kind where we will know who won even before the vote. I always thought this country was better than that, but apparently, not so.

But here's one thing to consider, Trumps' bullshit will affect his supporters too. When the tariffs go into effect, jobs will be lost and wages will stagnate while the price of everything will skyrocket. It will effect them in ways they don't even know about.

Our attorney generals and law enforcement have let us down. Why was Trump not tried for the insurrection? Why wasn't a more vigorous pursuit made concerning the constant law breaking Trump did? Why did this country allow him to get away with it? Easy. We're lazy and dumb. He should not have been allowed to run, he should have been in jail.

It doesn't matter now. This democracy is no more. It's over. Almost 250 years and with one election...poof! Everything we worked hard for is gone. There are no rails into what Trump can do. I hope the damage spares you and me and the people we love. The next four years will be hell, and if Trump has his way, he will sow mass destruction. It's who he is. Everything Donald Trump touches dies. Every last one of them. Including, I'm afraid, this country.

So here we are, Steve Bannon warned of Roman justice where it is acceptable for one part of the country to rule over the others. He has basically said he wants to prosecute those who speak ill of him and Trump. You can be sure, they can and will.

Sorry for the bad vibes, but now they are out, I will try and find some more decent and nice things to talk about.

See ya next time.