From The Rearview Mirror

Crazy Train

2012-01-21T11:21:00.005-06:00

1979

In a galaxy long ago and far away, I used to be someone.
In another lifetime ago, I was the guy you listened to on the radio as you went to or from work.
Or, if you were in high school or college, I was the bright good evening face that was heard but rarely seen while you were doing your homework. I was with you washing your car, playing frisbee in the park or sometimes yes, even while you were having sex(that thought always turned me on for some reason). Sometimes, we woke up together, sometimes we got really stoned together and I played a song that made you go..."oh,wow".

kfmh muscatine just turned new years day 1978

If you liked (classic) rock, I was the guy who played the new Zeppelin, or AC/DC or the new Stones record on the local powerhouse rock radio station. Whether it was Muscatine, the Quad Cities, Kansas City, Denver or St. Louis, I somehow talked my way on to great legendary rock stations that had a built in great loyal fan base. All I had to do on my gig was to not fuck it up. This was a time when radio mattered and 40 shares were not uncommon.

1979-1985

I have always defined luck as the crossroads of talent and opportunity. In my case, luck was just dumb luck. It was lucky that a tape of mine landed on Max Floyd's desk right when he was looking to fill a night time opening at KY 102 in Kansas City. Jumping from market 100 (Quad Cities) to market 25 (Kansas City) was not something that a lot of people did. At the time, a person would have to stop in market 44 Nashville or Indy first.

Luck. Just dumb blind luck.

Anyway, as I said, I was king of the world at 23. I tried to never take what I had for granted, I always accepted the opportunity to go out and meet the people. Many years ago, a wise program director told me, "Randy, in radio, you are ALWAYS running for election. Every chance you get, shake hands, kiss babies, one man cuming goes a long way in establishing a relationship with your listeners. If they've met you and like you, they'll tell their friends, who'll tell their friends and so on..."

Sage advice.

Anyway, back to my point and my point being I used to be somebody on the radio that mattered.
I got to interview a number of people, some I liked (Bob Seger, Robin Trower), some I loathed (George Thorogood, John Entwhistle) and some I loved and couldn't wait to see again. When we would have someone on that mattered to the people, I made sure they knew in advance who, what and when. There were interviews I've done that the subject and I hit it off we became acquaintances (Alice Cooper, Steve Perry, Yoko) and one where there was a fist fight in the studio (John McEnroe).

My favorite guy to interview by far was Ozzy.

Ozzy got it. He understood the role radio played in his career and he was very appreciative. The first time I talked to Ozzy was 1981 on the heels of the just released "Blizzard of Oz". It hadn't quite taken off yet but the buzz was building. This "Crazy Train" song was getting a lot of requests and he was just right on the cusp of this thing taking off and being huge. We announced he was coming on that night at KY. "Hey, if you have any questions you'd like me to ask Ozzy, he'll be here about 6:40 or so, give me a call at 5767-102..."
The station was situated in the same building as 61 country and WDAF TV at the time. The back doors were hardly ever locked at night because people came and went throughout the night. Some high school kids got wind to just walk in the back door, met no resistance and informed their friends that Ozzy was coming and filled the halls upstairs.
Not good.
Ozzy shows up in what looked like a feather boa, spandex tights and a tutu. He hangs and parties with them in the hall, takes pictures, signs stuff and proceeded to do a killer interview, talking about how confident he was on this and thought he had the best band in rock history behind him.
I interviewed him again in 1984 and then again at the KSHE studios on April 2nd 1986.

How do I know the date?...let me explain.

The previous day was April Fools day. In my radio career, I've had a few indiscretions on the radio in which, later on, having given it more thought, I probably wouldn't have done.
This was one of those days.

max weinberg 4/1/86

Earlier on that April Fools day, Max Weinberg had stopped by the studio. He was out promoting his new book and he was great, the show had some great momentum and I somehow wanted to keep that momentum going.
Realizing what day it was, I asked Abigail, our promotions gal at the time to assist me with a big April fools joke. At this time, we were in a pissing match with the Libyans. We shot down one of their planes or something so I played off that. We set up the ruse that played out like this...

Abigail, while I was on the air, walked into the studio and said "this just came across the wire..."
So I stopped what I was doing, ruffled some papers and said..."this just in, Libyans jets, based in Cuba have just now bombed the entire southern coastline of Florida and are working their way up the eastern coast as we speak, more details as we get them..."

The phones went nuts and I didn't answer them. Every line rang, even the office lines (it was after six).

EVERY line rang. How cool.

One more time for good measure, I said that the jets were heading this way and were coming after KSHE for being the best rock station on Earth, April Fools and good night.

My phone rang at 7 the next morning.
It was Rick Balis, the program director.
He doesn't usually call me at that time. He doesn't usually call me at all.
"You have 20 minutes to get into my office and tell me what happened yesterday afternoon. If you're not here in 20 minutes, you're fired." Shit, he knew it took me 25 minutes to get there.
He didn't think it was funny.
At all.
"I should fire you right here." He started smoking up a storm and that wasn't a good sign. When he finishes a smoke in about three minutes, he's not happy.
At all.
I was pretty humbled and showed great remorse.
Damn, I just got here ten months ago, I was starting to get comfortable and now....way to go Randy.
He cooled down and ordered me to answer every call that came in about the incident (and there were a LOT of pissed off people that day including members of my own staff), then go on the air and apologize every time I opened the microphone. Every time.

Enter Mr. Osbourne.
Ozzy arrived that day in fine form. He was pretty lucid and fun. He actually remembered the incident in the hallways of the old KY building. "Is that the time the fucking cops came and fucking wanted me autograph?"
Yes it was.
Yes, our own TV station called the cops on their sister radio station.
So, after every time Ozzy and I chat on the air, I say something like "..I was a real ass yesterday and didn't mean to scare anyone, it was a bad April Fools joke...blah blah blah..."
So after a couple of these, off mike Ozzy leans over and says
"So what the fuck didja do, man?"
I told him and he laughed hysterically. "That's fucking rich and you got in trouble for THAT? Fucking pussies HAHAHAHA"

and before the wise cracks of "porn stache" start, this is how we dressed back then. mullet included. 4/2/86

The fun part with Ozzy was trying to get him to read liners promoting the station. With most acts, you'll give them a script and they'd roll through it..."Hi, this is Jeff Carlisi of 38 special and you're listening to real rock radio KSHE 95 in St. Louis" and they'd be done.
Not Ozzy.
Twenty minutes later and he's still going at it "K..H...S...E. rockin real radio"
"No, Ozzy, it's KSHE Real rock radio..."
"Oh, OK.. Hi this is Ozzy Osbourne and I'm listening to HSKE ...really rocks"

No Ozzy. uh..Sharon?

Stagefright

2012-01-17T21:31:00.001-06:00

I spent the latter part of my adolescence in the Quad Cities, and after having been really removed from the music scene in Ava, MO it was nice to live in a place where performers came to once in a while. While the Quads were not Chicago or St. Louis when it came to destinaton cities, there were acts who came through regularly. I saw REO at the Racetrack with Queen opening for $1.50, stuff like that. My first concert was in 1972, when Rare Earth, Sugarloaf along with Flo and Eddie appeared at the Rock Island Armory. I took my at the time girlfriend and we sat way the hell up and way the hell away from the stage. It seemed the sound bounced all over the place and then finally nestled into my feedback laden ears. After that, it was Rare Earth again I think with a very young, very young skinny three piece band named Rush opening. I remember because they had a sonng called "Working Man" that was deafening. I then started to attend shows on a regular basis, and each show was usually opened by a goon who would come out, introduce himself and then read a list upcoming shows. He would normally end his spiel with something like...."you guys fucking ROCK!"

My friend Jay "Stoneman" Stone being THAT guy.

The crowd would go wild for a nano second and he would exit stage left.
I always wanted to be THAT guy.

You don't have to ask me why I remember the very first time I did this. It was at "the Ranch" in Port Byron Illinois in 1977. Doucette ("Mama Let Him Play") was the headliner.
This was also the very first time I ever did cocaine, maybe that's why I remember it so much.
Doucette was Jerry Doucette, a very talented guitarist who had a minor hit in the midwest with a song "Mama Let Him Play"...featured here..

I was working at 99+ in Muscatine (this show was about 60 miles from there but we were they only station within 75 miles playing the song), plus my Mom and Dad lived right down the road, so I could crash and then get up the next day. Since this is my first time doing this, I get the premise but I'm not sure on the procedure yet, so I go digging around and I end up backstage with Jerry and his band.

They had just arrived and were feeling pretty ok. I asked him how he wanted to handle the whole thing as far as time and that. He looked at me and asked right out loud if had ever done cocaine.
Now, let's put this in context...in 1977, cocaine was GOOD for you. It helped you focus, it filled you with energy and it wasn't addicting.
"Sure", I said, "lots of times."
"Cool, this is really good stuff so don't waste anything, but for building me up on stage I'll share..."
I had never even seeen cocaine before, but I knew this would be no problem and I couldn't wait.
He promptly took a professional looking kit out and lined up some very "healthy" lines.
"You good?' he asked,
"I'm cool" was my reply.
I proceded to lean down ever so low over the "healthy" line and so not knowing what I was doing snorted it in for about a nano second before everything came back up through my nose and all over everywhere with a gusto. Once the coke got to the inner workings of my nose, it rejected it all over the "healthy" lines, completely obliterating all traces of blow that was on the mirror.
Nice move.
I thought I was dead, my short radio career over for having wa$ted a lot of blow from the headliner.
I looked at him in horror and he back at me with disgust.
"Rookie. Now, let me show you how to do this."
So, he did.
Let's cupple this with the adrenaline rush of getting up on stage for the first time ever to be THAT guy in front of a rowdy crowd of about 300 people approximately 20 minutes later.
Yikes.
All I remember from that night was the manager of the bar telling me to "clean up my act", Jerry Doucette breaking into "Hey Jude" during the solo in "Mama Let Him Play" and me playing the announcer on "Live Bullett"' by getting up on stage and yelling "DO YOU WANT HEAR SOME MORE YOU FUCKERS? COME ON NOW DO YA?" when he was clearly out of material.
He asked me to "get off the fucking stage."
By the way, I drove all the way back to Muscatine that night and was ready to go for my on air duties at 5am. Probably had a killer show.

I've introduced some epic shows. I did announcements at two "Summer Jams" in Kansas City in front of at least 50,000 people. I've had the pleasure to say ..."ladies and gentlemen, the Allman Brothers Band". I also came full circle as I've introduced Rush at Kemper Arena, Rare Earth at the Uptown. I was there Shooting Star in Denver and the Moody Blues at Red Rocks. Robin Trower, Robin Williams. I always volunteered for that duty. That guy.

So, if you're going to be THAT guy, the guy who does stage announcements, keep this in mind...don't give an audience a chance to boo you. They will. I did the announcements at a Judas Priest/Molly Hatchet show early in my career that went like this..."Hey everybody thanks for coming, my name is Randy Raley from KY 102......" The boos started rolling in from the back of the arena to the front and I wasn't quite sure what was happening. Then I was. It was a Judas Priest, Molly Hatchet show for God's sakes. I quickly got off the stage.

Better way..."Hey everybody, I'm Randy Raley from KY 102...you guys FUCKING ROCK!"

Only Sixteen

2012-01-15T12:10:00.011-06:00

(in keeping with naming blogs after songs)

Someone on facebook posted a picture of the WLS Music Survey from pretty much this date in 1972.
I have always marked my days in high school not by the calendar date (who could remember?) but with what was on the radio at that time.

What a trip looking at the different genres represented.

On the survey, Al Green was next to Led Zeppelin, who was next to Betty Wright and The Osmonds. What a glorious time to be musically aware.

I also remember what my life was like at the time. The previous September, I went back to the East Moline Illinois School District after having spent the previous four years on a farm four miles outside of Ava, Mo. When I say farm, I mean the whole deal. Horses, pigs, cows, sheep tomatoes, corn, you name it, we farmed it. I was pretty isolated from the world and living there was about to drive me insane. At that age, the whole world was spinning around and I wasn't on it, I could only watch from a distance in that isolation. There was a certain magic about it though, looking at it from this age. Not sure what my life would have been without the discipline knowing a job must be done every day, rain, snow, heat or shine.

I had attended the EM school district in my early years (I went to McKinley grade school which was certainly on the wrong side of the tracks in a town that was situated on the wrong side of the tracks). East Moline was probably the least glamorous of the Quad Cities. East Moline was where all the "shops" were located. International Harvester, John Deere and their spin off shops had plants working 24/7 365. East Moline and Silvis were populated by factory families, not neccessarily crude but having a certain toughness about them. Certainly middle class and back then, we had it pretty good, but East Moline had a certain stigma. Don't fuck with us, we will fuck with you back. When Campbell's Island (see previous posts) is part of your city limits, it's pretty certain you're not going to be invited to be another country's sister city. I think Moline was pretty indignant they had to share the same name. In fact, I've stated it before that East Moline is now NOT a part of the four cities that make up the Quad Cities, it's been replaced by Bettendorf. An entire city has been banished for bad behavior. With us, it's a badge of honor.

My graduating class in Ava was 68. My graduating class at United Township High School was easily ten times that. And then some. In those four years removed from civilization, I apparently gained a southern accent which was so not cool with the multi cultured student population at UT. "Randy from Mayberry" and "Buck" were pretty common. After having my ass handed to me a couple of times, I realized the first thing I needed to do was lose the accent and fast. Adjusting from an all white rural school to a student populaton with the last names of Soliz, Allejo, Ramirez along with dudes who were quite proud of the length of their afros was quite challenging.

At the time of this survey, I was beginning my second semester of adjusting and I've decided to just get along with everyone who'll get along with me. I got high for the first time the previous Thanksgiving weekend with my cousin who was at that time doing heroin on a pretty regular basis. I was so NOT into that, but I saw no harm in smoking weed. Weed at that time wasn't very plentiful (or very good) and while I enjoyed it, it wasn't something I did a lot of because I didn't have time or the money.

I was working just about all of the time. My job with the drive in theatre ended the previous October and my mother was now the "manager" of a local diner named "Harvey's". Harvey's was at the corner of 34th st. and 5th avenue in Moline(now way long gone). It was located right down by the shops and business was almost always brisk. Harvey was Harvey Mathwig, who constantly hit on my mom. I thought he has a creep and an ass. Harvey had a heart attack in November 71 and my mom took over the regular operations of the restaurant. Harvey's was open 24/7 365 and served "hearty" food as most diners did back then. We were one of the only places in town where you could get Henny Penny chicken that was deep fried under pressure and quite popular. God help you if you ran out of chicken. It was that good. To this day I have a weakness for the smell of freshly fried chicken. It takes me straight back there.

In December of 71, I (prodded by mom) decided it would be a real good idea if I helped her at the restaurant and learn how to do whatever needed to be done. So...here we are, January of 1972.

I went to school from 7:40 to 2:10, took the bus home, rode to work and back with my mother by 3 and work until 11 pm. On Friday and Saturday nights, I worked from 11pm until 7am. Sometimes from 3pm the previous day to 7am the next , a "double" as we liked to call them. You could really make some money those days and at that age, I was pretty much invincible. I must admit, I had a few white cross stoked doubles. Hey, you did what you had to do. I cooked, bussed tables, washed the dishes, waited on tables, was the janitor, ran the steam table, cooked the chicken, manned the prep table...you name it, I did it. Sunday night was my only night off. My mom made me a deal that if I would spend at least an hour sometime during the evening to do my homework, she'd cover for me and pay me to do so.

Again, Harvey's was open all night every night. This was the first place my mother ingrained into my DNA the importance of service. You try cooking to a restaurant full of drunk assholes at 3 am on a Saturday morning when the place is so jammed you cannot breathe. "Bite your tongue and smile" my mom would say. So I did. However, when stuff was directed at my mother, I did not have much patience. There were a certain group of regulars who loved my mother. My mother was one hell of a waitress. She took pride in it. You were honored to be served by her. She made you feel you were the only customer she had. I would stand back and marvel at her way with people. I learned so much from how she went about her business. One night about this time, there was a gentleman who was getting a bit rude. Now, you must first realize that my mother could kick the shit out of just about anyone and took no garbage from anyone either. This guy, however, in the wee hours of a drunken evening, went one step too far. I walked over to his table, stood in front of him with a steak knife in my hand and said..."no one in this resaurant eats until you apologize to my mother." "Fuck your mother" was the reply and bang, right front of his hand went the steak knife. In a split second, four guys from the table behind him surrounded him, pulled him from the table, drug him outside and returned about ten minutes later having dealt him a bit of regular customer justice.

Pretty heady stuff for someone who wasn't even sixteen.

One thing about Harvey's though was the radio. It was always on. No matter what hour of the day, day or night 24/7, the radio was on. While the maturation process of this fifteen year old was going on, these were the songs that make up the soundtrack of those hours spent at the restaurant, learning to be responsible, accountable and knowing the satisfaction of working hard and establishing the work ethic pattern that has been passed to me from my mom and on to my son and daughters. I bought my own car, my own stereo, paid for my own clothes and all the records I wanted.

The station that was on back the was KSTT in Davenport. KSTT was a"feeder station" for those talents on their way to bigger and better markets and at that time, I was so lucky to listen to guys who went on and made it to bigger markets while honing their craft entertaining me. Bobby Rich, Jeff Pidgeon, JJ Jeffries, Chuck Hamilton, David Bradley (David Craig), Steve Bridges and so on. I didn't watch TV much, but I could tell you when the guys on the radio changed shifts. While I was toiling in the restaurant, they were the guys who told funny jokes over the intros of the songs and would once in a while surprise me with a great song I hadn't heard before. That's about the time I decided I really needed a plan if I wanted to do that. It wasn't long after that I went over to the local radio school and chatted with the owner (who happened to be Chuck Hamilton). That's another story for down the road.

The great thing about this radio survey? For each and every person who looks at it, it will be a completely different set of circumstrances. For me, it meant being a part of something that, while it was happening, completely sucked at the time. I had no free time to play much. I guess I made up for that later on, but when these songs were on the radio, the basic foundation of my entire life was being etched in stone. Times were good, everyone in my family was alive and young and my biggest worries were making sure the paper was turned in on time or making sure the eggs were done the same time as the bacon, potatoes and toast.

I miss you mom, thanks for your valuable lesson.
I didn't know at the time how valuable it was.
A lot of these songs still remind me of you.

To the tune of the 40 most popular songs on this date 40 years ago....

click on picture to make it more clear

Had To Cry Today

2011-12-06T21:17:00.002-06:00

* in my continuing effort to be clever, I am naming blog posts after songs. This one was done by Blind Faith in 1969

It still boggles my mind the power and effect on my life music has.

There have been certain songs in my life...I'll call them mile posts...that have come into not only my sense of hearing but have captured my soul. There have been some that, at a later date, have no longer been appealing to me. There are some songs I can listen to and cry every time I hear them because they have connected with some strange musical umbilicord chord.

Even though some of my friends hate the song, "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg resonates with me. Mainly because of who I was with at the time, but most importantly, I've lived that song.
In my life.

Music rescuced me at various points in my youth but really from all of the white noise of my high school years. From the countless nights spent alone as those nights marched on through my adolescence holed up in my room, to working the over night shift at a restaurant and becoming good friends with the overnight DJ at KSTT in Davenport because I wanted to be like him.

The one constant has been music. All kinds of music, from Hank to Hendrix, Motown, to Yes and Led Zeppelin (don't forget the Beatles), music has been the one constant to mark where I've been and what I've been doing in my life.

I cried today when I found out Dobie Gray died. Probably a silly thing to do, I didn't know him. How can I put into words the magic I found in three minutes and fifty five seconds of his contribution to the soundtrack of my life? "Drift Away", when it was released in March of 1973 was like a light in the darkness. It reached out of the radio, went through my ears, past my head and captured my heart and soul. Don't ask why. I've learned not to do that. Especially with me,It's usually a complicated answer.
The power, mystery and mastery of music.

Most of us stumbled and bumbled our way through high school. I tried to just survive. So, when something, anything grabs your attention, and makes you feel better, it usually means something. This did. A lifelong friendship.

"Day after day, I'm more confused... yet I look for the light through the pourin' rain...
you know that's a game that I hate to loose..and I'm feelin' the strain...ain't it a shame?"

Holy crap! What a song, what a voice. Go on...

"Beginnin' to think that I'm wastin' time...I don't understand the things I do
The world outside looks so unkind...now I'm countin' on you, to carry me through"

Oh man, am I digging this, my question to Dobie was, how did you get so inside my head? Not only was this song getting to my head...but also my heart

"And when my mind is free, you know a melody can move me.
And when I'm feelin' blue, the guitar's comin' through...to soothe me.
Thanks for the joy that you've given me....I want you to know I believe in your song,
and rhythm and rhyme and harmony...you help me along...makin' me strong"

Right about at this point this 17 year old realized that no matter the resistance, no matter all the macho I could muster, I was a quivering bowl of jello. I had found a lifetime friend in this song and when things were not what I had hoped through my life I could always call on a friend for a sweet refrain...

"Yea, give me the beat boys and free my soul...I wanna get lost in your rock n roll..and drift away..."

And I did drift away, to free my soul and I got lost in my rock and roll.

This song will be played at my memorial service...right up there with "Born to Run" and "Into the Mystic".

One of the people I regret not being able to meet.

I think I would have said thanks...thanks very much.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dobie_Gray

Happy Anniversary

2011-10-05T22:05:00.000-05:00

Hey bro,
You'd be 63 today.
Really?
I guess that's one nice thing about leaving this world early, no one knows what you look like when you get old. It's been 18 long years, bro. I sometimes wonder how on Earth you could leave me here. But, I know you are in a far better place....playing cards with people who know how to play euchre...and pitch.
Like I always told you...always count on your partner to get at least one.

It's your 63rd birthday. 18 years too late.

Goodbye Again

2011-10-05T21:58:00.000-05:00

"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on." -- Steve Jobs

Things Goin On'

2011-09-30T11:05:00.000-05:00

Lynyrd Skynyrd 1973 (I'm trying to name blog posts after songs).

I have a very good friend who has a completely different take on everything. He is interesting, witty and he will challenge you to think. We usually discuss our "theories" in the sauna. Sometimes we'll get talking so much that the next thing we know, we're almost passed out. We had a very interesting discussion about religion the other day and his postulation was this...

We're a very young planet,comparatively. Our sun is a "new" sun, not an old one. So, if there is indeed a planet out there who has evolved way past us, they have the answers we've been seeking. Everything we know is wrong, starting with the theory of relativity. We can go faster than the speed of light, other "species" have done it and have visited us in the past.

He thinks that we are one big experiment. When this planet was much more sparsely populated, a being from another world was put here to teach people how to live their lives. His name was Jesus. He came with the message of peace and love and taking care of each other. He was proven to have created miracles just to show the world that he was the one to follow.

Yes, he said, the words of the bible are true.

The experiment went like this...we'll put this being on this very young planet and see how many people will follow him and his word. We'll set him up where he has a physical presence but he also knew that in order for the Earth to follow him, he must show that there is a place where there is everlasting life and that for the people on this earth, you must be like he was in deed and actions.

He died, went "home" and returned to spread the word that, indeed, there is such a place in the sky. Those who do believe and live their lives as he taught them will, when they die, have their spirit transported to this far off planet ("heaven"), and those who don't...won't.

We also discussed "Pascal's Wager". This was put forth by the mathematician in the middle ages who threw something like this out for people to think about....while the presence of God has not been proven, if indeed, there is a God, I couldn't imagine facing him and saying..."I didn't believe in you."

So, whether or not you believe in God is your opinion, I, for one, will not take that chance.

Now, about the first part, I can't totally discount him. If Jesus did come from a far and away more developed civilization to come here and try and save the world, that's not too far off from his message. Is heaven another dimension that we know nothing about? It hasn't been proven. But, then again, we're disproving just about everything we know now.

We know so little. We don't know 1% of what we don't know. I know that I'll live my life believing in God and his Son.

I look forward to the day I can look the Father in his eyes and say, "through everything that's happened to me on this Earth, I never lost my faith in you."

I'll probably puff my chest out a bit, too.

Wanderlust

2011-09-28T13:58:00.000-05:00

..is a song by Paul McCartney on his "Tug of War" release, so the record is still intact.

Every once in a while, I'll go to http://www.allaccess.com/ website which is for radio people. I'll take a look at the job postings and wonder... Today, I saw a posting for a General manager in Palm Springs CA. I then went to mapquest and looked at where it was and then daydreamed about a place far away....

I'm needed here. Maybe this is what God put me here for.

At this time, I'm not sure I have any answers for anything. And time goes by slowly but surely. Tuesday is the day.

I can tell you right now that even without all of this, October sucks.

My dad, mother, brother and mother in law have all died in October.

I wish I could sleep for a month. Who am I kidding, I just wish I could sleep.

Maybe this time, the law of averages catches up with me and October is a good month? Not feeling it.

If you are reading this blog and are a believer...I can use all the help I can get.

"Lost and lonely child..."

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." . . . You must do the thing you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt

Hey KSHE

2011-09-06T16:17:00.000-05:00

What the hell was that over the three day weekend?

You guys sounded great. The "Now That's What I Call KSHE" had me listening a lot this weekend.

So, what happened?

You're back today playing the same shitty 500 songs over and over again. Why did you do that this past weekend where there was NO playlist? To show your audience you could? What are they saying now? I think you guys took a classic dump on your fans this morning when you flipped the station back to Bob and Tom and the same 500 songs. What you've told your listeners is "screw you".

You had them program the station all weekend and now it sounds considerably different today. "Ha Ha, we have all of these songs, but you don't get to hear them...suckers. We'll only play them when we have a special weekend." And now you guys wonder why no one is listening.

KSHE, you have a thousand times as many listeners as I do and it's nice to see that you have come around to my way of thinking when it comes to programming a station that wants to make a splash on the weekend. But, I would NEVER do that to my listeners.

I would never tell them to program the station and then in another move tell them that their music isn't good enough and our consultants know more than you, the faithful KSHE 40 year listener. We're back to the songs you've told us you're tired of cause very few of them made it on the air this weekend.

A once proud heritage radio station has to resort to tricks to get their PPM meters glowing.

If I was a faithful listener, I would wonder what message they are sending. Hey! We looooove you listeners and will give you a chnce to play whatever you want. But, on Tuesday, we were just kidding.

Nice to see that you guys are acknowledging and are aware of planetradio. I never thought you guys would be reacting to me and my little tiny media outfit. But, planetradio broadcasts 24/7 the songs that you haven't heard in awhile. In fact, KSHE sounded just like us over the weekend except for two things. I didn't have to play 14-15 minutes of commercials every hour. And my playlist today is the same one that was played yesterday and tomorrow and so on. I had 126 people listening on Saturday which, in itself is a drop in the bucket, but planet radio listeners came from somewhere.

And people wonder why I left.

I remember when The Rock! came on. I said something to Rick Balis about The Rock! while I was at KSHE and his comment was .."no one can hear this station and the songs they play don't test well. No one wants to hear these dead songs."

How did that work out for ya Rick? We handed you your ass until finally, after almost two years, you brought in a consultant that said..."just play the same stuff they do and you'll beat them." All of a sudden you started playing "those songs that no one wanted to hear." And your signal beat ours. So, now, that's twice, guys.

Twice I've been right while you flounder in your mediocrity.

Oh, and by the way, I was flipping the dial today and found that you even play the same songs as KHITS. Where's the variety? Two stations playing the same 500 song playlist?

Rick Balis (program director at KSHE forever)was quoted in the June issue of St. Louis Magazine as saying this..."we have a sophisticated music program that we spend an inordinate amount of time setting up...there are lots of types of songs we don't want to play too close together...female vocalists...jocks aren't computers and that's why we have computers..." And that's one of the reasons you aren't the force that you once were. My comment in that magazine about the current offerings in local classic rock radio..."tragic".

To this day, when I meet someone and I tell them who I am, invariably they will say,.."aren't you the guy..." and I'll say yes, that was me. And usually the next thing out of their mouths is ..."what happened to them?"

Stuff like taking their listeners for granted maybe?

On The Road Again

2011-08-08T12:45:00.002-05:00

Travels and trevails take me on the road again this week. Heading to Rogers, AR to make a huge presentation to a very important regional client. With a stop in Springfield, it's a down home trip. From Rogers to Dalton Georgia to see an old student get married. Dang, do I feel old. Love the opportunity to hit the blue highways and drive my troubles away.
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P90x is evil. Brutal. Sadistic. Cruel. But, now after about 6 weeks in, I've lost three inches in the waist and have gained three inches on my arms. Yikes. Down 16 pounds and sore in places I have never been sore before. It almost feels like I'm sore under the muscles. Since it's all about the core muscle group, I'm not surprised. Lighter and faster on the basketball court and now, if I can get back into shape, I'll be a happy boy.
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Saw Collective Soul at the Franklin County Fair on Friday night. To let you know where I was, there's a flagpole that displays the Aemerican flag. There was a cross on top of that flagpole. Rural America, baby. Had a 16 kid step in and play the lead guitarists part. What a very fine band. Collective Soul came 20 years too late. If they had been around in the 70s, they would have been HUGE. But, they were between the generations when they came out in 1993.
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Here is an email I received in my in box at work.

Dear “Fan”, I would like for you to know that of all the tributes to Dan that we have read; and there have been many, yours was very close to being the most moving and comforting to my family and me. Thank you for your article.
Incidentally, my son, David thinks he remembers you from an earlier time in your career. This is what he wrote:
“Wow!! I wonder if that is the same Randy Raley who is the radio personality from KSHE 94.7 and other stations in St. Louis??? I spent a better part of my St. Louis years listening to that guy. Maybe he retired and settled in Farmington?”
Regards,
Milton Peek (Dan's dad)

RETIRED AND SETTLED? He does not know me well. I'll never be able to retire and I'm far from being settled. But after sending my last tuition check last semester, I'm looking at waterfront properties in this area. Dad's time. Woo Hoo!

Miss ya Boo

Lady Jane

2011-08-06T15:18:00.003-05:00

Boy, how do I do this? How do I put down in words the love, goodliness (which is not a word, but it should be), kindness and reverence one person can have? Are there words?

Word comes from my cousin that my Aunt Jane is off to meet her maker very soon and also to hold the hand of her beloved Martin. She's missed him desperately for the last 13 years.

My Aunt Jane burst into our lives in 1969 when my uncle Martin lost his first wife, Bette, who was my father's sister. I hated that woman. Profane, mean, nasty, smoked and drank and cussed with the men. I so totally despised her that the disgust toward her almost negated the love I had for uncle Martin.

Uncle Martin was Dean Martin.

Good looking, dark, wavy hair, smoked and drank and probably had an affair with my mother. We're pretty sure something happened in 1965 to split up my mom and dad and signs from myself and others in the family think it happened with Martin. I couldn't blame either of them actually, their lives must have been pretty empty.

He never gave it up. Ever.

Before Bette died, she had Jane's number in a Bible or something. After Bette's passing, Martin and Jane got together and she transformed him from a smoking, drinking party guy to a down to Earth religious man. He found Christ through her.

One life saved.

She came with Martin to the farm in Ava to meet our part of the family. It was 1969 and she could not have made a better impression on this young man. Being 13, she was exactly what the doctor ordered for Martin. I had never ever seen him so calm and cool. She was a cinch.

My mother was an alcoholic throughout my life and there were times she was just not there. Aunt Jane always was. She never had kids, which is a shame. But she knew what to say to me. Whether it was telling me I was lazy or slapping me on the back for a job well done. Don't ask Jane a question you couldn't handle the answer to. She told you the truth as she saw it which was usually the way it was.

When I moved away from the Quad Cities in 1979, one of the toughest to leave was Martin and Jane. I'll never forget what she said to me..."what are you crying for? Don't you understand this is what you've been waiting for all your life. Don't let the enormity of the situation cloud your common sense, son. Go. Don't look back. We'll be here when you get back. Let me know how it is."

Perfect.

She was my mother when my mother couldn't handle the job.
When my dear mother died, I was pretty emotional about it and she said, "I hope you're crying for how much you're going to miss her. Don't cry for her, for she is about to be set free from her chains and demons and for the first time know no pain."

Perfect.

As they got older they took pride in working in the ravine behind their house. That ravine was so full of flowers, shrubs, and gardening that the strongest among us couldn't handle, but there was Martin and Jane, every day out in the hot sun, working all day. "Working keeps you young." A favorite saying of hers.
Of course as the years rolled on, Martin and Jane slowed down and she lost her beloved Martin at the age of 84 in 1998.

Devastation isn't a powerful enough word.

Looking back, her world was over at that time. Being away, I didn't get a chance to see her as much as I'd like. I regret that now. Jane kept treading water, she kept her life together as well as she could, but after having to quit driving at 86, she went downhill slowly but surely. The family entered her into an assisted living facility not long after.

Everytime I got that way, I went to see her, she always knew me, but sometimes it took a bit. Then her eyes would get big and she'd say "Randy" and smile. I'll never forget the look.

One day, about three years ago, I went to see her and she was feeling exceptionally well. "I'd like to go for a ride." she said. "Where to?" I asked. "My youth", she replied. So, we got into my car and went to the neighborhood where she lived as a young girl. It was right on the Moline Rock Island border. She pointed out all of the local landmarks, where she walked to school, where she stood waiting for the bus, etc. "My father built that house...and that garage...and that's the house I grew up in." Her eyes filled with tears as we drove around the neighborhood over and over. "That's the house I grew up in...and my dad built that..." What a blessed afternoon I spent with her. I knew more about her in three hours than I did in the previous 40 years.

She moved to a home in Rockford to be closer to her family and I saw her a couple of times. The first time, about a year ago, she was eating, perked up and said "Randy" with THAT look. We had a nice chat. I went up there about two months ago to see her. She was sitting in a wheel chair in the middle of the hallway, head in hand. My cousin Chuck was with me. We walked up to her and she didn't recognize either one of us. "I'll get the job done, but I'm slow, you know. I'll get it done, but it'll be a while. I don't like mistakes, so I'm real slow and careful. I can do the job, I really can, but it takes me awhile to do it. I like to make sure the job is done right, so I'm slow..." And on and on.

I'm hoping that the end comes quickly and peacefully. She needs to see her Martin. She needs to go home.

I love you so much Lady Jane. You shined a bright light into my life and you've helped save my life on more occasions than you know.

That's two lives saved.

"Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force."
YODA

Lady Jane passed this morning, 8/11/11
God has recruited another angel.

Dan Peek

2011-08-01T11:26:00.001-05:00

I spent part of the morning doing something I don’t think I have ever done before. I paid respect to someone I did not know. Well, I guess I knew part of him. He seemed to know me, anyway, as a 16 year old pimple faced young man whose face was horribly adorned by glasses and braces. He actually seemed to express parts of my awkward adolescent life and the things I was feeling at that time. He expressed it so magnificently through his music.

I am the type of person who isn’t big on dates but if you were to ever do a soundtrack to my life, I could tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing by the song that was playing on the radio at the time. And at the time I was listening to the radio a lot, he caught my ear.

The first time I heard him, it was a song about horses and deserts and such and since I was in a very singer/songwriter stage in my life, I immediately liked the song even though the words were very weird. “…in the desert you can remember your name..”

Ok, then.

But it was the next hit song of theirs that really grabbed my attention. It went like this…”and now you're gone, I guess I'll carry on, and make the best of what you've left to me.” But wait, how did he know that he hit an emotional grand slam home run with a lonely teenager who’s girlfriend just broke up with him in, of all places, East Moline, Illinois? How did he know how I felt?

And thus became my love affair with Dan Peek’s music. I have been in Farmington almost two years and I had no idea he lived here. I don’t know what I would have done if I had known, I don’t think I would have walked up to his house and bothered him to say thanks, but just knowing some one who has affected my life so much lived in the same community just blew my mind.

It seemed that Dan wrote for the disenfranchised, the ones who weren’t the most popular kids in school and his message was always, don’t worry, it’ll all work out. I wonder how he knew that. Because, somehow through the years of this pot marked, scarred life, it did. Like all great composers and songwriters, he had a gift to get below the surface and make a listener feel that Dan knew them and what they were going through.

“This is for all the lonely people, thinking that life has passed them by. Don’t give up until you drink from the silver cup and hide that highway in the sky.” There he goes again.

Dan has a place in the soundtrack of my life when music meant so much to me. His words and music reflect the feelings and emotions of a generation that grew up hanging on every word he and his band mates wrote. His spiritual, uplifting message cleverly hidden in the tapestry of his songs maybe, just maybe, saved a life or two by telling us, hey…”oz didn’t give anything to the tin man, that he didn’t already have.”

His music lives on through youtube and other outlets, but to my generation, we’ll remember him as a man who gave up the rock star life for his faith. We’ll remember him for being a part of our lives because in so many ways, whenever he was in our bedrooms with the headphones on and wherever we heard his music, we thought of him as a friend. And we heard his music a lot.

I got it, Dan, and thanks. It was my pleasure to stand in a room full of strangers and just say thanks. I introduced myself to your family as “just a fan”. I’m sorry I never got the chance to say that to you while you were alive.

If I had only known.

http://www.danpeek.com/

Sweet Music

2011-06-29T22:56:00.002-05:00

On this post, I give you song number two of the trinity.

The three (and a half) songs (records) that blew my mind in that 11th musically magical but emotionally difficult year. I lived in a closet with three other people. This house, (if it had 800 square feet we were lucky), was so small I actually for awhile had to share a bedroom with my father. Then I moved into a closet into bunk beds with my sister. Shit. At least I got the top bunk. The house was so small, I could hear the TV from my bedroom like it was up against my ear. I could also hear beer after beer being opened by my mom, (when she wasn't working).

We lived there from mid 66 to late 67 when we moved back to the farm. My only solaces were basketball and the radio, which exposed me to music. On a post about two down, I talked about the fall of 66 and the wonderful sound of the song "Cherish" and what it meant to my brother and myself, having fallen in love with the same song being some thousands of miles away from each other. I was a music geek who would chart the songs every Thursday night and cry foul when my song failed to move up the charts. At twelve.

One day in early November I think it was, my mother went "visiting" which she did frequently. I miss that. Going over to someone's house just to chat, smoke cigarettes and drink coffee. My mother "visited" with her mother a great deal. It was always an interesting dynamic to get a stubborn, tough mother daughter combo together in the same room. Add alcohol. Or, she would go "visiting" to a friend and, of course, my mother never liked baby sitters, so she'd drag us kids with her and back sometimes just in time to do homework and watch Carol Burnett tell us good night.

It was during one of these visits when I heard it the first time.
That sound.
See, the Beach Boys were big in my house. My brother was 8 years older to me and he was into girls, cars and music. So, vicariously and probably prematurely, so was I. The Beach Boys were The Beatles before The Beatles.
We were riding back home from one of the "visits" and the DJ said it was the new song from the Beach Boys. It was called "Good Vibrations" and from the very first moment of the song, I went on a musical acid trip from which I never returned. We reached home before the song was over and I begged my mom to keep the radio on, just for a second. This song sounded like nothing else on this planet, let alone another one. What a roller coaster...up, down, left, right, up, back, down, forward, stop, start. Whoa, what was THAT!? Holy cow. When it was over, that was as close to self gratification this 12 year ever got.

I heard it on a Thursday. On the following Saturday, I rode my bike to the record store (about 3 miles away) and they didn't have it yet. Shit. Never fear, the radio was playing it and that song glued my ear to my transistor for the next six weeks. When I finally did get the 45, I played it over and over and over until my dad would bang on the door.

This song opened my ears to listen to new and different things, to seek out good music and to be ready for what the Beatles were getting ready to do and King Crimson in about three years. It made me realize the value of good production and quality sound. Surprisingly though, I don't think I've ever heard the song in stereo.

To this very day, after hearing it, I feel like I'm a kid and I'm hearing for the first time. There are but a handful of songs I can say that about. "Good Vibrations" is about number two or three on that list. I guess it was about this time that Brian Wilson flipped out. Because it was his song and he's nowhere on this video.

So, who influenced who? I hear a lot of Beatles in this song, especially snippets of different songs put together. McCartney's biggest hits "Uncle Albert", "Band On The Run" are songs that contain snippets of other songs in them. Maybe he learned that from this. I think these guys propelled and compelled the Beatles to be better and this song was serious shit.

This is song number two in the trinity of "musical mileposts" that happened to me in 5th grade. The third part came out in March of the following year. There were two sides to the 45 and they both were mind altering blows that set me on my musical merry way.

Questions of My Childhood

2011-06-14T22:51:00.001-05:00

"Well I walk the road of life among the strong, among the weak
And I ask them for the shortcut to the answers that I seek
But it seems nobody understands what is and what will be
Oh, the questions of my childhood weave a web of mystery..." Kansas 1976

Lillian Webster Raley and young Guy 1908

Hard to believe my father would be 105 this year. I've decided to post a few things this father's day to rid myself of the stink I've put on him. I don't think my father liked kids much. The impression I get when I talk to my older brother (who is in his 80s) is that dad didn't like him much either. I know one thing, I didn't know him. At all.

I know for a fact however, how much my father loved the women of his sons. He adored my brothers wives and mine, too. I remember when I first decided to leave the factory and follow my dream to be a "DeeJay". It was something that my father couldn't understand. Follow your dream? I think my dad in his early life did what his dad told him to do. A lot. He expected the same in return and when he got me the job at the factory, I think he thought it was going to be a forever deal. But, I wanted to be on the radio and he was absolutely furious and when my wife and I split, I swear to God, he sided with her. "You're an idiot to walk away from this job. You could be retired in 30 years." I could also hate my fucking life for thirty years, too. "DJ?" "DJ?" "Stupid pipe dream" he said.

One day, somewhere around 1930, in the middle of the depression, my dad took off from Chicago to LA to "find himself" as my brother told me. He left behind a family(a wife and two kids) in Chicago. He never went back to them. My older brother, who I visited in Spokane a few years ago said his mom told him my dad left for Arizona because of his "allergies". My father was allergic to poison ivy and that was it. When I went out to visit my brother Adam, (who as a priest fell in love with a nun and they both received personal dispensation from the Pope), his first remark to me was, "I hope you're not here to learn about dad, because I didn't know him, either". Great.

My father 1937

As the story goes, my father was, according to who you talk to, a private detective in LA. I never figured my father for that kind of work, but I hear he was pretty good at it. He was also, in his spare time, one hell of a prize fighter in the circuit out there.
I found out how good he was when I was 17 and received one of the worst beat downs of my life over me working and not paying rent at the house. "You make enough money, you can start paying rent." "Bullshit" or something like that I said. I told him that I've been wanting to take him out for a long time but I'd feel bad about beating an old man. There wasn't much left after that. My mom said he hit me twice. I don't remember much after the first one. He caught me dead square on the jaw and that was it. I left home the next day, over the objections and the tears of my mother.

My father was one hell of a handyman. There wasn't much he couldn't fix. Each time we moved into a house, the routine was the same, he'd tear it down and build it back up from the inside to the outside WHILE we lived in the house. Then, he'd sell it and we'd move again. I wish he had the patience to have taught this inquisitive young boy how and what he did. He would just shoo me away.

My father and mother never showed any kind of affection. I never saw them kiss each other and never can remember them holding hands or dancing or...anything like that. The old guy was 50 when I was born and 53 when my sister arrived. Needless to say, we had very little in common. I think he deliberately chose the second shift because it kept him away from us. He never attended a sporting event that his kids were in, never went to a play, never showed much of an interest in anything that concerned his kids. I remember one little league game where I caused the winning run to score. I was crying about it when I got home and his response was ..."well, quit then, shit." So, I did. He never pushed me to be good in school, never inquired about my grades. I never got it.

Randy. William Guy sr, William Guy jr. 1958

I wonder if having kids so late in life caused him to be disinterested or what. I know for a fact that my mom cheated on him. We were cruising along one day and then, out of the blue, we move 500 miles away to a farm. And stay there. Something happened and my theory is this. My father got to an age where he couldn't perform. My mother, being 21 years younger than him, is not going to go the rest of her life without sex. She was a very sexual woman and even as a kid, I could sense that. I also think it was with a family member (by marriage) and my dad found out. So, we were sent away, which seemed to be the way my dad dealt with stuff. Just leave.

William sr, Randy, William jr 12 years later

The farm was myself, my sister, my mother, grandfather and grandmother. Four miles east of Ava, Mo off county road FF. My older brother was there for a short time, became small town restless and bored and got caught breaking and entering into the drug store in town. That's one early Saturday morning I'd like to forget. What to do? Dad's 500 miles away, so they make a plea deal where my brother went into the Army. Shit. Great. It's only friggin 1966. Viet Nam was getting to be a pretty popular name back then.
After three years where I become completely detached from everyone and learn to be alone, we moved to a 800 square foot house on Campbell's Island and while all four of us are there, he decided to remodel the whole thing. By himself. He always did that. He sold the house and we moved back to the farm, this time with him. Not long after he moved to the farm, he remolded the whole thing again, with us inside. He nearly died from a heart attack in 1970. With Springfield having the closest hospital 60 miles away, we decided to move back to East Moline. My father took it easy from that point on, only remodeling part of this new house on Oaklwan Ave.

I, for the most part, am glad I spent a great deal of time on a farm, it taught me that work goes on day after day, no matter the weather, no matter the circumstances. The basic principles of hard work were taught to me during that time.

By all accounts, my father was an honorable man, paid his bills on time, had great, long lasting friendships with people from the shop and the bowling league we went to every Sunday night. My dad worked hard, too.

He went to work every day, sick or well, and did the same job every night for 30 years at International Harvester in East Moline. My father's family hated my mother,too. She was a "floozy". She lacked the proper attributes for being a "lady". She did, however get along with my fathers mother, who, in her day was a stunning woman. Granny did not come from wealth but married into it. She could see the tough, scrappy person in my mother and maybe recognized her as being of a familiar ilk. I think my mom and my dad's mom were tough, stubborn southern broads who took no shit from anyone. I only remember her as being very old. She died in 1967 at the age of 88.

I also think my grandfather was extremely hard on my dad. I think grandpa (who died in 1953 of a heart at the age of 65) was a stern, serious man. There was very little humor in that household as each of my dad's siblings were dry as toast, except his sister,w ho was one of the most hateful, profane woman I have ever known. She showed outward disgust for us kids. She was a smoking, drinking, swearing almost evil person who was married to the person rumored to have been with my mom. Hell, I don't blame him. I hated Aunt Bette and dad's brothers were...old.

My father upper left. He was the short one. Damn.

My dad grew up on a hemp farm in central Kentucky. They grew, harvested and processed hemp for the most part on their own farm. I drove past the house one day when I was a kid and a had just learned what the word mansion meant. I would today say plantation. A very huge house with servants. There is a picture of my dad with a young black child. Dad called him Seymour. My dad came from the "monied" part of Hodginsville KY.

It seems all was well in the Raley house until one day, when my dad was in Calfornia, the US Government outlawed hemp. Thank God they saved their money, but really, it pretty much devastated the whole family and certainly cut into any (none) dollars that may have made it down this far on the genealogy tree. He immediately came back from California and went work to support the family. Apparently, my dad and his dad had a severe falling out also and were never close again.

My dad was a fair man although his definition of fair is still being debated. He had an underlying feeling that us kids were pretty much unable to be much. I think we were in the way. He didn't have much patience for the nuances of everyday fatherhood. He didn't understand the passion and love I had for a)radio and b)basketball, even though he had to have applied the same principles in boxing. He forced me to quit going to radio school when I was sixteen because he thought there were better ways to spend my money. I was even paying for it. I worked steadily and regularly through high school with sometimes three jobs going on at once. I got that from him. I've always worked hard and have his work ethic.

I never ever saw him look at my mother the way a husband should look. I never saw them go out to dinner. I never saw them do something fun together. I never saw them laugh. I never saw them connect. I never heard him tell her he loved her.

One thing my father gave me was toughness. I have walked through some of the more dangerous, more terrifying mine fields this life has to offer. I've been sick, I've lost everything and gained it back, I've broken hearts and had mine broken. I've lost just about everyone in my family. And I'm still here. So, while my father never really showed much emotion (the only two times I saw him cry was when he hugged his son goodbye on his way to Viet Nam the first time and when his 15 years old daughter told him she was pregnant), he seemed to have answers to everything. He could figure out a way to get something done and if thst didn't work, he woudl have a plan B set up.

One summer day as my dad was unloading plywood from his truck, he and my also ex-boxer uncle got into an altercation. My uncle, being 20 years his junior, was mouthing off and me being 13, didn't have much of a chance to do anything if this escalated. Bang! My uncle sucker punched the old man (he was 65 then) and down he went. As my uncle walked away, my dad grabbed his ankle, tripped him, and proceeded to beat the absolute hell out of him. And then just walked away. That was impressive.

My father, in the normal sense sucked as a father. But as a teacher, I learned toughness, how to be cool and calm under pressure, how to work hard and to always conduct yourself with a modicum of class and decency. Finally, one of the first I learned from him was what NOT to do when dealing with my kids. I love you is spoken freely and there's no question how much I love them. All three have graduated from college, something that wasn't important to my father so he never thought it would be important to me. I have been there to help pick up the pieces when they fall. But, like my father, I've allowed them to fail. So much I've had to unlearn, and so much I've carried from him that lies just below the surface.

He's given me my DNA and as I get older, he appears to me more and more when I look into the mirror. Physically, I'm becoming him. Mentally, emotionally and spiritually, he's not the man I am, but ironically, I wouldn't be this way without the not normal childhood I went through.

Funny thing about the radio deal. After it was all said and done and the pieces of my life were being picked up after having my wife leave me for choosing a radio career, my dad mellowed. After doing a shift on one of my very first radio jobs, I came over after and found him on the back porch with my country station on. That was odd, he didn't care for that kind of music. He was reading the paper and he said from behind it.."was that you on earlier today?" "Yes, that was me". At the time, I needed a "radio" name, so I called myself Randy Lee. "What's this Randy Lee shit? You ain't good enough to be known as my boy?" That was as close as I would ever get to getting a compliment from him and he seemed to be more at ease with it from then on.

There wasn't much of a "then on" as not too long in the future, he came into the extra bedroom while I was taking a nap, kicked the bed and said "get up, I'm having chest pains". Shit. It was 30 minutes to the hospital, we made it in 17. Maybe the ride to the hospital killed him, but he never came home. He died about two weeks later, after waiting for one of his kids to get to the hospital. For a person who didn't seem to care much about kids, we all knew he waited for Carole to get there before he said his goodbye.

Maybe the last picture taken of him. All but two of these people are dead.

While yes, he was a very cold person who really never said or did much, he was a man of great character and when my father gave you is word, it was done. While growing up was incredibly uneven and mostly disappointing time, the only thing I can do is filter out the bad stuff and keep the good. And while the bad was more than the good, hanging on to the good has blessed me with having walked through the minefield with three.
Jess is so tough and is such a great mother. She has faced the hardship of raising on infant while finishing college by herself. Her day is yet to come. Paul has the mental discipline to do anything, as fisrt diagnosed by his refusal to put the Nintendo game down until the enemy was destoyed. He's now building and designing satellites for the Defense Department. Emily has such an old kind soul but his her grandmothers "fuck you" attitude. When she finds here niche, she'll rule at it.

This exercise will hopefully eject the bad juju I have had for my father for years. Couple his aloofness and unemotion with my mother's alcoholism, and it was a very lonely place to be. But, I made it. Thanks, Dad.

And what I wouldn't give right now, this instant to say hello to you and ask you how I'm doing.
I'd only need a heartbeat to know.

Are you proud of me?

The kids?

Goin' to California

2011-05-23T17:50:00.017-05:00

With apologies to Led Zeppelin.
It has been a whirlwind of activity of late and a mixture of emotions and observations.
Saturday was graduation day. The third of my three children has now finished college and what a sprint to the finish line. It was the worst semester of her life with everything that went on. Perseverence pays as she finished as a member of the dean's list. Woot. That also means dad wrote last tuition payment this semester, too. What started as a failed mission to Dayton and a frantic phone call to come get her ended with a joyous, triumphant in the Mabee gym on the campus of Fontbonne College. I know how hard she worked and I'm incredibly proud. Incredibly. I did manage to hold it together on Saturday over the joy of knowing she's done with that part of her life. Saturday night was spent at Hacienda as it all came around in the "Circle Game". The girl has been going to Hacienda in utero and was joined by her lifetime friends to celebrate. Her order? Same as always. Always.

ali, the girl, kristen, dana

Sunday morning brings panic at the disco as we arrive early to an absolutely packed Terminal 2 at Lambert. Lines everywhere. Thank God we had the ability to print our boarding passes in advance. It saved us countless minutes. The flight to LAX was uneventful and the drive to the boy's house was familiar. At 4pm, we arrived at our getaway on Hermosa Beach. We were here last year in March, and while I would love to live here, I sometimes get the feeling I'm in a foreign country. It must be the beach. My past times here are spent walking up and down the beach figuring out which houses I'm going to buy when I win the lottery. I will post a picture of the winner tomorrow. A picture of the neighbors house. He's about 45, she's gorgeous and they have an old yellow lab. Not that I was looking or anything

the neighbors

The Green Store and The Bottle, a fine Italian restaurant

The sign board at Martha's mmmmm...Martha's

Martha's, a Hermosa tradition.

The front of our place for a week

the view out the patio door

Emily is here with her friend Kristen. These two are the original, meeting at age 3. Ali came a short time later and Dana maybe ten years later. So far, so good. Kristen's never been here, the girl's been here 4 times now. I think she likes it here but her only exposure has been Hermosa Beach, which would make anyone want to move here. Me included :) Last night was Italian night at Mama D's with the boy. He is the reason we are here as he gets commissioned as a captain in the USAF on Thursday. I had a great walk of about 2 1/2 hours today. it can be warm and chilly within seconds of each other on the beach. Tonight, it's smuggled turkey sandwiches as we hang in the abode, drink copious amounts of alcohol and make many trips to the mightiest ocearn of them all, one of the few things anymore than can fill me with awe in it's vastness. I feel this way on cruises when I am out in the middle of the ocean with NOTHING in sight. I'll be sure to post then.

We are shocked to hear about what happened in Joplin. I came thisclose to taking a job there. I've been through there many times. So many tornadoes...what's going on? Always connected to reality I guess. It's 3pm here,which means it's 5 pm in St. Louis, time for a fruity libation. Lots of limes, I'm sure.

the beach front at hermosa

one of my top five favorite beach houses. think of the view here

love the stately archtecture.

nice block

Ahhh, margaritas and the beach. They go together so well. The previous pictures are shots of houses along the strand. Just imagine the view from your place. Some of these homes are unthinkable and unimaginable to me. If I ever win the lottery, one of these babies would be mine.

A pelican is not necessarily news in Los Angeles but I don't get to see one everyday. One the building right across from us

Out by himself this morning, it wasn't really warm. Off for a nice bike ride.

Songs of Our Youth

2011-05-07T13:32:00.002-05:00

For the first few years of my life, my mother and older brother were the foundation of things that would ultimately decide who I was. When it came to things like attitude, eating, sports, spirituality, communication and other things like music.

I lived in a house filled with music. My mother LOVED country music and had a great regard for big band music. She had a lovely singing voice and would routinely sing me to sleep. "Pardon me boys, it's that the Chattanooga Choo Choo...track 29?" "See the pyramids along the Nile...watch the sun rise on a tropic isle...but just remember, darling, all the while...you belong to me." Those were the lullabies of my childhood and oh how it formed my psyche. Music really did soothe this savage beast.

My father never really showed an interest at really anything artsy. He never went to the movies or do I remember him listening to music. In the car, he would get frustrated and reach over to the knob and turn down that "awful crap" I listened to. At his advanced age, I'm sure my Blue Oyster Cult sounded like German jets and their blitzkrieg of London.

My brother, on the other hand was all about Buddy Holly (he wore glasses), Bobby Darin, the Four Seasons, eventually the Beach Boys, and then the holy grail of The Beatles. He was in the room THAT night in 1964.

I'm not sure what the chemical reaction to music is inside your brain.

What causes us to really like certain things and dismiss what the critics like or hate? What chemical reaction is it when the guitar solo from Blue Oyster Cult's "Then Came the Last Days of May" makes the hair on your neck stand out? Or, embracing songs that no one has ever heard? Potliquor, Love Sculpture, The Pousette Dart Band, Blondel and Wishbone Ash have made such great contributions to my musical journey but any "casual fan" of music would scratch their heads at such artists. Having an older cousin who was a junkie helped turn me on to many of those artists listed and others, but I think it was the fact that I grew up appreciating what music can do.

My mother would put on the song "Talk Back Trembling Lips" by Johnny Tillotson and cry. Which, in turn, would make me cry. ""You'll understand someday." I do. I really do. I can tear up at Dan Fogelberg in a heartbeat.

In the fall of 1966, I was ten, I lived on "Campbell's Island" an island that was on the wrong side of the tracks past the poor section of East Moline into an even poorer part of town surrounded by the Mississippi. It was called "Cannibal's Island" by my school mates. I was going to a school that ended up closing down. McKinley grade school never won a game in football or basketball the two years I went there and there was usually a fight or two just about every day. The closest we ever got was losing by 3 points in basketball. My brother was off to the service and I was stuck. Stuck living a house that was built for one person instead of the four that were living there. I couldn't breathe. My room was a closet.I excelled in basketball and football, but there was really no one else on the team that really much cared. It was not an easy place to grow up. The older neighborhood boys were tough and mean. They would beat you for looking at them wrong and then beat you again for fighting back. There were always treasures to find on the Island, but our Saturdays were usually spent riding bikes over God's great Earth or in the winter, playing football in the snow, or rain, or whatever. I just couldn't stay in that claustrophobic house for a long period of time.I had to get out and usually the river was my destination.

My solace, as it has been frequently in my life was the music and the guys on the radio. KSTT was the AM top 40 champion of the Quad Cities. While WQUA had a few good songs, they're music was bit sleepy, so KSTT was the station that played all the its, all the songs that mattered. In was in this element and this school year that the tri-fecta of songs that shaped my musical taste were released. In that year of school, there were three...OK, four recordings that launched my passion for music and what it could do to a person's musical standards.

The first song I heard not too long after I started school that year because the song reminds me of a girl I was interested in as the school year began. I was in my room doing my homework when the DJ announced a new song taking the country by storm by the Association. I liked them. They had "Along Comes Mary" and "Windy" as a part of their repertoire. But this song was absolute love at first listen.

"Cherish" was released in September of 1966 and it zoomed up the charts. I know it did, because a part of my Thursday night routine was to chart each song as the new "surveys" were debuted on the radio that night of every week. In between figuring out my English or Math homework, I would chart each song as it was kept by KSTT. "Cherish" entered the charts at 32 of 40 or something like that. It went to 14, 4 and number one faster than just about ANY other song I had tracked.

There was something about this song that got me from a guttural perspective. The harmonies, the musical prgression, the bells, the words, the structure, the dynamics and passion of pining for another person. The key change right in the middle that makes you know he's getting serious and I'd better listen now. Then in the last verse they're all in, it's serious and they are all declaring their love for someone. Golden. And at the age of ten, a wonder. I "felt" this song and couldn't wait for it to come on the radio again and again. I would reach my parent's limit whenever that song came on as I would sing it at the top of my lungs. And, I still do.

It was the first of three "epiphany songs" to come out that school year for me. I'll write about the other two in a very short time.

The Association didn't last much longer. I thought their music was done with great style and class. When my brother returned from Vietnam, he brought us a brand new technology called a "cassette tape". One of the cassettes had "Cherish' on it.

He later told me his passionate love for that one song and how he would get "lost" in the music in Vietnam. That one song was his lifeline home and he could never figure out why. Two brothers, worlds away and eight years apart absolutely loving that one song. Music is genetic, maybe? From the guy who turned me on to "Telstar" by The Tornadoes and "Have I The Right" by The Honeycombs, it was high praise indeed. How nice we both felt the same way about it.


my brother and me just about that time

Song number two of the "trinity" was released in October, just about the time the love for "Cherish" was cooling off. This song literally set my world on fire.

In The Real World * another song reference

2011-04-29T21:33:00.004-05:00

I was chatting with a friend today about The Beatles. He was wondering what the tattoo meant on my calf. The tattoo reads "in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make." It was a tattoo that I got with my daughter over Christmas and thought it was an ample example of what the Beatles meant and a wonderful way to say good bye. And then we got to chatting about the legacy of The Beatles.

In January of 1994, while at KSHE, I had the extreme pleasure of having Alan Parsons give me a tour of Abbey Road Studios. Yes, those Abbey Road studios and yes, THAT Alan Parsons. I sat at the piano Paul sat at during Let It Be, went to pee in the bathroom where they peed. It was pretty incredible.

For some reason in your life, there are people you hit it off. Whatever it is, there is a something that makes personalities mingle instead of clash. And for some weird reason, Alan Parsons and I hit it off. It could have been he loved KSHE for the previous air play, or maybe he was impressed with the wife, whatever, but after the tour he asked us if we'd like to go down the street for " a bit of tea." It was about noon on Saturday and it was a bit chilly in London, so a brisk walk felt pretty good. Alan is about 6' 5" tall and people know who he is. We were greeted warmly by the owner of the coffee shop, "any friend of Alan's is a friend of ours." We proceeded to grab a table, order a hot beverage and he pretty much answered just about any question we had about The Beatles, Pink Floyd, himself or whatever.

We found out that his son and David Gilmour's son played "football" together in school. One of the things I wanted to know was about the end of the Beatles and what really happened. His response was something like this. Let It Be was done and ready to go. It portrayed the Beatles in an awful light. Pissy, and pretty edgy through out the whole process. It was pretty evident that the writing was on the wall and it was obvious the band got pretty tired of each other and was on "life support". He said he couldn't remember if John called Paul or Paul called John, but the conversation was ...'how many songs do you have?" The thought was, if they were going to go out, it shouldn't be with "Let It Be". Each one knew George had a couple of tunes (boy did he) and they figured out something for Ringo to do. With the songs in hand, away they went and the whole thing was done quickly and painlessly. So, in Alan Parsons's words as well as I remember them, is what happened. While indeed, Let It Be was released after Abbey Road, Abbey Road IS the end. According to him, anyway.

Maybe that's why Abbey Road is my favorite by them. It's goodbye, the coda, the swan song, the end. Thank you and good night.

We sat and chatted for about an hour and he also let me a bit behind the scenes of the epic Waters/Gilmour struggle. Apparently, during "The Wall" sessions, it got real bad with physical altercations between the two. I think he was in the Gilmour camp more than Waters. I also asked him how he ended up where he did. "It was my turn" he said when I asked him how did he get to be on the technical end of The Beatles. " All of the engineers were on the rotating system in the studio, we were assigned whatever project was next." "Lucky for me, I got The Beatles and more importantly, I saw George Martin in action." Wow. He was next on the list. Heavenly intervention. He was/is a lovely man. He is very cordial and very warm and spent an hour or two putting up with "Randy from KSHE". One of the chances I've had in this life to do something no one else has done. Listen to and watch Alan Parsons at home in Abbey Road. We had to sign in when we got there, so somewhere, there's my name at Abbey Road.

Unfortunately, I have misplaced the pictures that were taken (they are in this house, I know, because I saw them about 5 years ago), but, do have this nugget....

it says.. "to Ann and Randy with best wishes on your visit to Abbey Road on 22.1.94. Alan Parsons"

About two years later, Alan came to St. Louis on a concert tour and we hooked up for a phone interview while he was in town. We chatted for a bit and off air, he said there were stage passes in my name at the box office. He allowed me to bring him on stage ( he canned his intro that night just for me) and afterward, we had a marvelous talk. He let me in on a secret. The Saturday we had the tour, Paul, Ringo and George were putting the final touches on the Anthology Works in the studio above us. "You could have run into one of them in the loo, that would have been fun, huh?" Talk about pissing all over yourself. Yeah, that would have been fun.

I have always been a fan of Alan Parsons' music. From "Tales of Mystery and Imagination" to "I, Robot" and on through, I thought his stuff was intelligent, well crafted, well produced and well done. Abbey Road (and the whole London experience) was the shit. It was an absolute incredible three days in London and those three hours in Abbey Road. It was hard to breathe, it was so cool.

I will find those pictures someday, I know it.

Dancing Days

2011-04-22T23:06:00.000-05:00

*continuing the tradition of naming blog posts after songs.....

I was on my one hour drive to work this morning and I got so lost, lost to where I am and how I got here. I was thinking about things that happened years ago, lost in a virtual sea of gray matter soaked with memories. I started by hearing something on the radio station and then transposing myself to the exact time I was in my life when that song meant something. The next thing I knew, without a second transpiring, I had traveled ten miles. I have often wondered if God, unhappy with my performance, after I die, would throw me headlong back into my life to life it again differently. I wonder what would have happened if I HAD become the teacher I thought I could have been. How much different my life would have turned out. I would probably be retired by now. But, then again, I would have never had the chance to drink a glass of wine with Bob Seger, play golf with Alice Cooper (he cheats), interview Yoko and Julian Lennon, Hayward and Lodge, have Lou Reed get pissed off and walk out on my interview, become great friends with Shooting Star, being kissed by Bonnie Bramlett or rock the Quad Cities, Kansas City and St. Louis...and...end up...here.In St. Louis. I would have loved to have been the teacher at either Ava High or United Township that retired after 397 years of quality service with a boat and a house on the river. All things considered, even though it's been more of a roller coaster ride than a merry go round, I wouldn't trade where I've been, who I am and what I became for anything. My brother had a transistor radio surgically implanted in his ear, and I followed suit in my own way. There was no question what I WANTED to be, but what I thought I would become was soooo different. When little Bobby and Billy wanted to be a fireman or a policeman, little Randy wanted to be "the guy on the radio". My first time was 1971, I was fifteen. I knew from that time, from then to high school, to the Academy of Radio and Televison, to WHBF, KFMH and onward....To everyone that listened, thank you. If I made any contact, I am humbled. I only wanted to pass on what I learned by the best in my craft. But, what a teacher of American History I could have been.... I sometimes introduce myself as ..."Randy Raley, you know, I used to be somebody, now, I'm just anybody and sometimes nobody."

Don't box with God, he's got a lightning fast right cross.

The Game

2011-04-02T12:49:00.001-05:00

This time of year takes me back 40 years when I had the cruelest of jokes played on me, the most ironically devastating thing that ever happened to me in sports or just about anything was foisted upon this fifteen year old's psyche.

It happened the night before Foreman beat Ali. The very night before. March 7, 1971.

Two shots, that's all. Made neither. FAIL.

I withdrew into a funk that took me months (and moving away) to cure. Just one would have tied it. Neither one went in. Didn't picking up a basketball with any regularity for 20 years. And to this day, haunts me like a ghost who is never there. I still lay awake at night thinking about it. Clank, clank, miss. Clank, bounce, bounce, miss. One to the right, one in the front. 83% from the line. Automatic.

I remember it was cold and the bus ride back was a manual on how literally fight a war in one's own mind. It was 5 horrible, long, lonely, bitter hours and to this day the longest ride I have ever been on, even if I've driven all day. I don't think anyone said anything to each other, I certainly know that no one said anything to me. I am not sure what I would have said back to them. Automatic.

When the foul was called, the shot had a chance to go in. The play was for John to set a back screen with my back to the out of bounds passer. As I moved around that screen, I sneaked around, face up to John, take the pass, use the previous screen to make room and set my shot. I had set my feet, squared up and launched one from what now is referred to as "the elbow", about 3 feet to the left of the free throw line, which was also my favorite place to shoot. I jumped straight up and had a nice rotation on the ball, it felt good as it left my hand.

Just an instant before I flicked my wrist, the guy guarding me (his name was Godsey and he was a smart mouth little prick, always chatting and talking trash, I hated those clowns) just ever so slightly nicked me on the hands. Whistle blows and I'm looking to see if it was as good as it felt. Good rotation, nice arc, but he hit me just enough to cause the ball to be just short of the rim. Clank on the front of the rim, it rolls around and off the other side. Automatic.

If anyone was to be shooting at the end of a game, it should be me. If anyone was fouled at the end of the game, then it should be me. It wasn't just any game though, it was a chance for my high school basketball team to go from 6-19 the year before to the final four tournament in Columbia. We were 24-6, with most of those six losses coming early in the year, we were ranked 8th in the state and we had won 16 in a row. It was the first year that freshmen were allowed to play on the varsity and our team featured two of them, me and my buddy Steve, two sophomores and a senior. I was leading the conference in scoring at 25.3. It was a grueling but awesome year that had come down to this.

My team is down by one with 1.8 seconds left and automatic on the line. Each practice, I made it a point to shoot 100 free throws and keep track of how well I did every day. I would constantly get in a groove and nail 29 or 30 in a row, I usually finished a session shooting 80 -90 percent and that carried over into the season, where some nights I'd get more than half my points from the line. The most I ever scored that season was 37. If there had been a three point line back then, I would have had Pete Maravich numbers. The night I scored 37, anything I threw up there went in. Between my legs, behind my head, hook shots, jump shots, but I do remember missing a lay up that night. Funny.

Time out called, and the other coach wants to "ice" me. That's fine, bring it on. I was a freshman. I had just turned 15 last month, but basketball was all I ever knew, that and music. I had a radio where ever we went. I was the music guy. Just like my older brother, I had a radio with me constantly. We could get WLS on the bus most nights unless it was really stormy. The music and the friendly voice got us through those long bus rides home.

Buzzer sounds and as I'm walking to the free throw line I try to go through the free throw motions. I remember saying to myself..."no big thing, you'd done this a thousand times before...bend your knees...exhale". The basketball goal in the back yard came into view, it was dark and I'm out there still shooting. Heck, in the summertime, I can still be shooting at 9:30. I'd quit only because I couldn't see the basket anymore.

Off to the left...clank clank miss. All the air just went out of my body. Pressure's on now. As I stand at the line awaiting the ball back from the referee, I can hear the people now and I can see the look on my team mates faces. What was once joy has turned into a silent concern. I look at the coach. His eyes meet mine and he clenches his fist. "Just one to tie" he said. The referee hands me the ball, holds up one finger, "one shot" he says. I look up at the rim and the old basketball rim in the backyard is gone. Wait, why do I hear the people now? Stop it. The old rim has been replaced with the new rim, the same rim I thought was tight and small tonight. I only had 17 points and maybe I was the reason we were struggling with a team we knew we should be destroying. The ritual repeats..."bend your knees..catapult...you've been doing this since you six, just one more...clear your mind.." As the motion begins, I like the way the ball feels in my hand..I release it and it feels good. Release..check...rotation...check...arc...check...splash...oh no. It's too short, I have to go follow my shot.

Clank, bounce once off the rim, and then twice then off of the front of the rim. That second bounce was the bounce that threw my timing off and caused me, as I was jumping to get the rebound, to knock the ball off of a team mates hands out of bounds. What just happened? That was my first thought. Our ball? No. It was over. Automatic.

It was a death march to shake hands with the opposing players, especially effing Godsey. I felt nothing. I heard nothing. I wished for a time machine that could take me back and replay the last 30 minutes. I couldn't look anyone in the eye. I had failed them. I had failed myself. I had failed the coach, who I adored. I was barely 15.

The shower was cold, so was the mood of the team. As we got on the bus for the dreaded five hour drive that awaited us, I felt bad for my mom who had to get up in the middle of the chilly night, drive into town, wait for the bus and then have to pick up my pieces. I wasn't about to cry in front of the team but this was a major malfunction of nuclear proportions. Automatic.

Not anymore and not "innocent" anymore. Go ahead, tell me that "the team wouldn't be there without me" one more time. I dare you. The radio ran out of batteries on the way home, so the last two hours were in silence. As it should be. From hero to goat in 1.8 seconds. It was two am when the bus pulled up to the gas station (the price of a gallon of gas was 37.9 cents) and there was my mom, sitting in the warm truck and I know I needed that right then more than anything. I didn't even get the door open before it hit me like a wall of bricks. I couldn't talk or breathe. I kept banging my head against the window. She almost admitted me to the hospital (which was 60 miles away). When we arrived at home, I went upstairs, closed the door and cried myself to sleep.

I wanted to call in sick the next day at school (it was a Friday), but mom drove me the six miles into town. I couldn't look anyone in the eye. In the halls, at lunch, in the classroom, anywhere. Kids can be brutal and the next few weeks were. While the team and some friends stood behind me, it was the fringe element, the people I didn't know well that would give me the choke sign. I had a classmate spit at my feet once, just wanting me to do something. His buds were pretty close, so I didn't say much. It was a pretty depressing time and it would have been more difficult if not for the music.

The music saved me. It provided solace, comfort and made my realize that I wasn't the only one who's heart had been broken. There were songs full of heartbreak.

My parents told me not long after they we were moving at the end of the school year. I don't know if it had anything to do with what I was going through but I do know it was the first step in my long journey out. In two months, I was gone and the mind tried to erase the whole situation. I do know I didn't really pick up a basketball until 20 years later when I got involved with playing for fun and health at the Kirkwood YMCA. Twenty years will cause you to lose ~~most~~ all of your talents. I like it better this way. I suck. I know it. There's not many expectations..

Shake It*

2011-03-10T15:00:00.004-06:00

a song by Ian Thomas. See, I knew I could name each blog post after a song title. I have so much to choose from.
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Lent is upon us and I have once again decided to give up meat for 40 days. That includes chicken, too. According to the Catholic church, on Sunday, you may partake in whatever you sacrificed. Lots of fish and Boca burgers for me. Bocas aren't bad, but you have to load them up with lettuce, tomato, onion, chesse and anything else you can find in order to mask the taste. Tonight, tuna salad ala Rocko, with some jalpenos thrown in for good measure.
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March madness baby, but sometimes it drives me crazy. You mean Missouri State with 23 wins and a 15-3 conference record isn't getting in? But some Big East team with 12 or 13 losses will somehow find a way in. I hope that there are not selecting teams based on TV markets, but I swear it seems to be like that. So, I'm rooting for Mizzou, I lived in Nashville and know Kevin Stallings, so Vanderbilt, the boy went to Notre Dame, Butler (because they almost beat Duke) and maybe a couple more. I think the only one that has a chance is ND. Highs and lows and upsets is why I lovethis time of year. Who will be this year's Northern Iowa and pull off the big upsets?
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I stopped by the local Dairy Queen in Farmington and enjoyed a cherry shake on Tuesday. It sent me straight back to when I was a boy in Ava. On Saturdays, I would take my allowance and ride my bike into town, play pool and pinball, have a hamburger at Norman's Rexall drug store, grab the latest comic books and get myself a cherry shake at the DQ. A summertime treat in the end of winter.
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I agree that the unions have too much power. I saw this coming when I worked at John Deere in Moline. Even in the 70s, it was push push push until Deere pulled most oftheir workforce out of there after warning the unions over and over. Do we really have to balance the budget on the backs of the school teachers, police and firefighters? How about closing some corporate loopholes and making it more fair for everyone. I am very scared about the future of this great nation. I think I'm going to buy a pice of land in the middle of nowhere, build a house on some water, and watch the revolution go by. I'll set it up with internet and satellite and retire from society.
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Road trip next week takes me to KC and Ankeny Iowa, where Casey's General Stores is located. I miss KC and always will. There is something about that place. As expenses are being cut, I'm staying with a friend. I love Iowa, too, so I'm looking forward to it. The week after, it's a trip to Springfield to Bass Pro Shops and then back through Ava because I hear my old place is for sale.
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If you see spring, please send it my way. Thanks.
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Happy Birthday to my "Facebook" friend Beverly Bremers. This was her only big hit. I remember listening this in m bedroom thinking that love would really suck if it made you feel like this. Sometimes it does.

I Want A New Drug

2011-03-08T19:15:00.004-06:00

In the past three months, my doctors have put me on Aleve, Viagra(he hoped the testosterone would help, I guess he didn't read the side effects that were listed, headaches being one),Exedrin Migraine, Trazodone, Oxycodone, Ibuprofen, Zonisamide, Zolpidem, Propranolol, and Zomig. Holy crap. Now, I'm completely off caffiene and I have stopped taking all that junk. The scan of my head revealed nothing. Ha. I haven't had a major headache in a while, but there is one that always lingers, it never goes away but at least it doesn't get worse. Last night, I felt one coming on, so I went and ran my ass off at basketball and it seemed to tame the tide. For now. Damn. At least there's no tumor or blockage. He's saying it's a migrane, but I still am not sure. I'm too old for them to start and I'm not sensitive to light or noise. All I know is that this sucks.

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I have been friends with the Rainmakers since they were Steve, Bob and Rich and played at the KY 102 summer olympics in 1983. I have followed their rise from a far and when I had my band, we opened for them at Mississipi Nights in St. Louis. I remember it was one of our better gigs and the crowd was very receptive. One of the guys I worked with at KSHE saw me later in the show and asked if I knew who the opening act was and he was dead serious. He really had no idea it was me behind the drum kit. I told him it was a local band called "The Traffic Jam". "Wow, they were good!" he said. I never let on. The Rainmakers get inducted into the Kansas Music Hall of Fame this weekend. I was there and introduced Shooting star when they were inducted a couple of years ago. It was great fun. Although, according to the article in the Kansas City Star, two of the original guys won't be there. Not sure if there has been a fall out, but with them regrouping to tour Norway (where they were huge), I hope that's not the case.
here they are that glorious day in the summer of 1983, when life was great and times were mellow.

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Sorry to hear that Nick Charles is dying. Nick and Fred Hickman were the precursors to everything that has turned out to be ESPN. Nick and Fred were a great team on CNN. Their show was fast moving and full of highlights. No hip slogans, nothing. Apparently, he has inoperable cancer. His one regret? Not spending enough time with his kids. I hope and pray that I never have to say that. Nick is 64. God speed.

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I've been in a Bread mood lately so, here's a repost from about three years ago. Yeah, yeah OK. I know what you are thinkin', the boy's flipped out. All I know is in the summer of my 14th year, this sweet lovely song called "Make It With You" floated out of the AM radio and into the ears of my girlfriend (if you could call her that, but I did at the time). She loved the song, so did I, it was deemed to be "our song" and so it was. After we broke up, she gave me the album back that I bought her with my own money (see previous post). I started playing it and discovered "Been Too Long On The Road", "It Don't Matter To Me" "Why Do You Keep Me Waiting"and others. David Gates hung around in Tulsa with Leon Russell and J.J. Cale. James Griffin was a session guy in LA, Mike Botts was a well respected drummer who once worked with Wes Montgomery and Larry Knectel played keyboards on "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" so, these guys could play. They just didn't play as loud as most of the other stuff I was listening to. Apparently, it was a clash of egos that sent these guys to their demise and that's too bad. For every Deep Purple, Black Sabbath or Zeppelin record, this was a nice diversion. I was 14 when I first heard them in 70, they split up for about four years in 1973 and released "Lost Without Your Love" in 1977 and called it quits. They had a special on TV around my 16th birthday and I had to beg my father to let me watch it. James Griffin recently passed with cancer at the age of 61. He wrote "For All We Know" for The Carpenters. He once said that they never wanted to be a soft rock band but going toe to toe with Grand Funk was probably not in their best interest. Since that post...Mike Botts has passed and so has Larry Knechtel

Smart man, Smart band.

And now, the top ten:
1. He's A Good Lad -they wrote that one about me.
2. If -to me, the classic love song. Kris Eric Stevens made this song sound special every time he played it on WLS.
3. It Don't Matter To Me -right song, right time right(?) girl
4. Guitar Man -a bit of an edge (hey, it's Bread, OK?)
5. Make It With You -summer of my 14th year. nuff said
6. Everything I Own -the ultimate song of sacrifice, covered many times. Another great sounding song on WLS.
7. London Bridge-first song, first side, first LP
8. Diary-been there, done that, have the scars
9. Let Your Love Go-nice rocking tune
10.Sweet Surrender- their last great song, a fine way to say goodbye

Here's the late Larry Knechtel on the lead guitar with "Guitar Man" from that TV special in 1972. Very tasty...

Connection

2011-03-02T15:03:00.004-06:00

Trying to name each blog post after a song, "Connection" was a Rolling Stones song redone by Montrose, which fits nicely into this post.

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I have become enthralled and mesmerized by a show on TV called "I Survived...and Came Back", which is on the Bio channel on Sunday nights. It has two airings, one at 9pm and one at 10pm central time. It is bascially about people who have been declared dead and have come back to life.

The believer in me says that there is some truth to these stories , but my scientist friend says it's nothing more than a dying brain that pretty much does the same thing in everyone. Each story is relatively similar, in that the person feels very much at peace and is content.

One woman said she was swimming in colors and heard the voice of God. Another said he walked toward his mother and grandmother, both deceased, and they were very young and beautiful. One man talked of having his life story played out like a movie projected on a wall and found himself at the bottom of a hill and on top of the hill, he saw a ten foot tall man with long, flowing dark hair and and beard. Another man, who was a pest exterminator, was shocked by a 110 volt electrical line, heard God call to him. It affected him so much, he became a preacher.

The way the stories are set up borders on hokeyness, but the stories seem to be real. I understand those who don't believe, I get it. But for those of us who do, it reminds us of the true miracle of faith. What do you think? Maybe you should watch and see.

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Happy birthday Lou Reed. Lou is 69 today. He gives me hope for the future, knowing that as much as he abused his body and has made it this far, I shouldn't have much trouble.

I first saw Lou Reed in 1974, right after "Rock and Roll Animal" came out. "Rock and Roll Animal" is one of THE best live albums ever, only due to his back up band with Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner on dual lead guitars and Prakish John on bass. This was the line up I saw in Iowa City when he opened for Jethro Tull. He blew J.T. off the stage. My friend Gary and I also noticed that he shot heroin on stage. We were pretty wiped out ourselves but we are certain to this day that he wrapped the microphone cord around his arm and stuck a syringe in his arm that night.

My next encounter with Mr. Reed was in 1985, when I interviewed him at the first Farm Aid for KSHE in Champaign Illinois. I don't remember what I said to him (I believe it was about the mixture of country and rock acts on the bill), but he flew into a rage and stomped off, right in the middle of a live interview on the air. I guess I should wear that as a abdage of honor that Lou reed got pissed at me live on the air. I just thought he was rude at the time. One of my favorite live songs by him...

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I get to spend tomorrow morning getting radioactive dye shot into my head. How about you? The headaches continue and no one, NO ONE can find out what the hell is wrong. My neurologist has weaned me off caffeine (which actually, has been good for me) and I get the dye job tomorrow. The old joke remains is that they will have a look at my head and find nothing at all. He's not convinced it's migraines, becasue I got them too late in life, I'm not sensitive to light and sound and they are constant. Bloody hell.
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This weekend on the old www.planetradio.us, it's cover tune weekend. That means, throughout the weekend, I'll throw in the originals and the cover songs that may or may not have made the originals more familiar. It starts at 7 on Friday and ends Sunday night at midnight. BTW, one thing I can offer that the terrestrial stations can't is programming like that and the opportunity to play new music from classic rock artists. I have the new Gregg Allman, Buddy Guy, Leon and Elton, Stevie Nicks, Robbie Robertson, Steve Miller, The Cars and Bob Seger all in rotation. The Bob Seger is such a disappointment. It's a cover of a cover. he does "Downtown Train" by Tom Waits, which has been done by Patty Smythe and Rod Stewart.

Ol' 55

2011-02-17T13:14:00.003-06:00

There's another song title that fits perfectly. I am 55 today. When I was a baby, the doctors told my mother not to get too attached to me, I wouldn't be around long. I suffered from Bright's disease. I guess suffered is too big of a word, because I don't remember suffering much. I do remember peeing blood. That was the main problem, my kidneys weren't doing their job and allowed blood to seep into my urine. I remember one time in high school, after a particularly hard basketball practice, I peed blood again, but nothing after that. Then, I wasn't supposed to make it to 30. Ha ha, I fooled them all. The past five years have been the usual roller coaster ride. I remembered to keep mu hands and feet inside the ride at all times, but there have been some serious white knuckle rides. I've been fired twice in the last five years and I quit two jobs, one in a city close to my hometown. There have been illnesses and good times. Seeing my son graduated with honors from Notre Dame has been a highlight. I do remember that summer when faced with the prospect of being an empty nester really freaked me out, but so far, so good. The jaunt to Nashville was short but productive, if only to see where Johnny and June Carter Cash were buried. That's how I spent my 51st birthday, in the snow with a wonderful friend, checking out Nashville. That was the night I got a kiss from Bonnie Bramlett (I don't think I've washed my lips yet). Spent some time in Bloomington Illinois where I reconnected with a friend that I miss dearly at this time. What an eye opening experience when it came to radio. Barely got out of there with my life. Heard some lovely music in the last five years, but can't think of a better song than "Girls in Their Summer Clothes". I have seen the boss three times, two were outstanding and one was a bit disappointing. I have lost friends and relatives too numerous to count. The matriarch of the family (Queen Joanie) has passed and so has my brother in law Curtis. Far too many friends have breathed their last breath and their memories are still prominent in my mind. I am younger than I look an older than I feel. I am 7 years away from the age that my mother died and 15 years away from my father's age when he passed. I think I'm in better shape than most and need to get back to the shape I was in ten years ago. This will be done. I am looking forward to checking back in when I'm 60. Onward through the fog...cue Mr. Springsteen...

49 Bye Byes

2011-02-14T14:48:00.002-06:00

I think I will start naming my blog posts after songs. here's the first one. I have named it 49 bye byes becasue I think Albert Pujols is done in St. Louis and I think he's going to pull a "Lebron" and split for greener pastures. I don't quite understand this. he's loved and revered in St. Louis like no other player since Stan Musial. he's a Christaion man (supposedly) who has to remember the bible passage about the whale and the eye of the needle and all that. So, I am waiting for him to say it's not about the money, which means it's all about the money.
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I pulled the old Trek bike off the rack in the garage and hit the St. Louis trailways for a long bike ride. I put air in the tires and lubed up the chain with some WD-40. Where I live is very hilly and by the time I got to the trailhead, I was already thirsty. Crap. The water isn't turned on yet. I peddled down the trail going as far as I could get until the trail was so snow packed, it was dangerous to ride. Stopping to catch my breath, I realized that the wind would be against me heading home. Rut roh. My short bike ride turned into a two hour and 30 minute haul. As I pulled into the driveway, I felt like I was back in high school playing basket ball as I barfed up everything I ate earlier in the day. The oatnmeal with raisins was particularly colorful. Don't know if I've recovered yet.

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I have been a fan of Muse for a few years now. It was one of those bands I got suckered into because I heard my daughter playing them over and over. Coldplay was another band who I gained respect for vicariously. At first, I thought Muse sounded like Queen, now I think they sound like Rush. Someon asked me if i thought they were the best band in the world. I couldn't begin to answer that becasue I do NOT know that much about today's music. If you would have asked me that 30 years agao, I would have given you a definitive answer. This much I know, "The Uprising" is about as timely as they come with what is happening in Egypt at this time. Interesting tidbit, the leader of Muse got Kate Hudson preggers, sounds a bit like Chris Martin and Gwentyth Paltrow, although I don't find either one very attractive. Now, if Diane Lane is interested in hanging out with an advertising director, here I am, baby, Here is "The Uprising" by Muse.

About music

2011-02-14T11:54:00.005-06:00

Got an email from a friend who said that I haven't talked much about music lately and he's right, so I will fulfill my obligation with this post constructed while I am on my lunch hour. (I hate to waste my work time and I feel particularly strong about that. I hate it when my peeps waste their time while at work). While watching the Grammys last night, I realized how really out of touch I am with today's music. While I like some of the groups out there today (Muse is exceptional and remind me of Queen), I guess my time has come and gone. The opening tribute to Aretha was fine (Christina, what are you doing with your arms)? I was pretty much done after that. I don't get Lady Gaga, I just don't, I don't think she's talentd or has anything original to contribute, she seems to be a Madonna clone, and not a very good one at that. She made over $50 million last year, so someone likes what she does. The song of the year was a song called "Fuck You"? Really? That fact alone doesn't make me want to know much more about the current state of music.

It's also Valentine's day, which means that love songs mean so much more today. I will post about five songs that are my favorites when it comes to dealing with the feelings that none of us can express. So, in no particular order, here are some of my faves..

"I Stand In Wonder" by Joe Cocker
When I first heard this in 1986, I just froze. What an awesome love song.

"Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg
This is a true story and the woman it was written about has recently come forward saying, yes, it was true. Only two minor details were changed. One was her eye color. I don't know why this doesn't get played except at Christmas. Every time I hear it, I get misty eyed. "we tried to reach beyond the emptiness, but neither one knew how..."

"How Can I tell You I Love You" - Cat Stevens
A guitar and lyrics that stick in your heart. "wherever i am, girl, i am always walking with you, allways walking with you, but i look and you're not there..."

"Island" by Gerry Rafferty Jaw dropping talent. I cried when I heard he died. So many songs we wrote that could fit easliy into the soundtrack of my life. "...I only know that wherever you are...I want to be.."

"As The Years Go Passing By - Gary Moore I could have picked a number of singers as this song is one of the greats. I picked Gary because he just nails this "...my love will follow you, as the years go passing by..."

And finally, one from my heart...

"Africa" - Toto Truly from the heart, a song that makes me stop dead in my tracks even after all these years. Heard it at Walgreens the other day and I had to hear the whole thing. .."its going to take a lot to drag me away from boo, it's nothing that a hundred million men or more could ever do..."

Old Friends

2011-02-11T20:33:00.003-06:00

I spent about a half an hour talking with an old and near friend of mine today. It seemed like three minutes, but it's always been that way with this person. It was awesome to get caught up. We chatted about kids, relationships, love and talked about God. I have always loved, admired and respected this person. Found out that the parents are well, dad is 80 and doesn't even take a pill to help him sleep. I never doubted for a second that a man of such clean living and of such rock solid character would be any different. After I hung up a strange feeling came over me... surrounded and shadowed by the words "what could have been", I was immediately transformed back almost thirty years and I could almost hear Dan Fogelberg singing about a "Same Old Lang Syne".
I never experienced "love at first sight" but when our eyes met across a crowded dance floor, I knew my life would never be the same. I sat in my office after the phone call and thought about what is and what could never be (to quote Led Zeppelin) and how if there was a time machine available, I know exactly what day I would dial it to. There are people in our lives that no matter what happens and how the life ends up, you always want to know how they're doing and if that person ever thinks about you. I know for many years, whenever the thought of this person crossed my mind, I would have to catch my breath to keep from hyperventilating. I can almost see after all these years her parents' reaction when this long haired "DJ" came calling on their daughter. Many years later while having lunch with them, I thanked them for their acceptance. "We saw the way you looked at her."
Very insightful and oh, so true.
Your life turns out the way it's supposed to I guess. I think the template of your life is pre-determined by God and fate. I know for whatever reason (my fault), we didn't end up together and it's a crying shame. Throughout the years, I've asked God to cradle this person and take care of them. My prayers seem to have been answered. And I'm so pleased that their life has turned out so well. Married, with four beautiful children and a husband that worships the ground she walks on (he'd better).
The afternoon then exploded into the choas that only an office full of people moving too fast working too hard could bring. Most of the team I lead could be my kids. I remember the day I had to question one of my peeps when they said.."I don't get the Beatles, why were they so popular?".
But, I digress.
My life is good now, and fill of deadlines and commitments, I am happy to have finally found some semblance of order. I am working my way toward contentment and I have been getting closer to finding that elusive state of mind. I'm not there yet, but it's getting closer. What the future brings, no one knows.
After being a fuck up most of my life, I am so very proud of my kids and the adults they've become. Blessed to be a grandfather to three beautiful girls, father to an Air Force captain who's so smart that he has two branches of government bidding on his services. Yes, he is rocket scientist who has great taste in music (wow, I wonder how THAT happened?). He took Van Morrison and The Moody Blues to school with him when he went to Notre Dame at a time that seems to be a thousand years ago, now. My youngest is the spitting image of her grandmother and someone who will be a valuable person to those less fortunate. She has a sweet soul and a warm heart.
My only hope is that when my kids get to be my age, the books of their life will be as full as mine. I have seen places and been with people that this farm boy would have never dreamed in a hundred thousand years. All put in my path in some pre ordained fashion. I have been with some of the most beautiful women and spent time with some of my heroes growing up.
I will refer to my man Al Stewart (whom I've met twice, he is a very lovely man) who once wrote..."a girl comes towards you that you used to know, you reach out your hand, but you're all alone..."
All alone but hardly ever lonely. A song came on my radio station as I was heading home tonight and it pretty much summed up where I am at. In fact, after the song was over, I was crying so hard I could hardly steer.
I've always been a fan of John Denver. In my record collection in high school, you'd find Led Zep, Black Sabbath, The Doors etc. You'd also find Neil Diamond, Bread and Mr. Denver. My doppleganger in high school(as you can see there IS a bit of resemblance). He is another one of those singers and composers that knew my life better than I did and one song "Rocky Mountain High" was almost solely responsible for a move to Denver that was doomed from the start. Music.
I just can't imagine myself with out it.
Thanks, Boo.
And now for the song that brought me to tears tonight because of how close it hits home. If there was a target on my heart, this song would have hit a bullseye.

Goodbye, My Friend

2011-02-03T19:08:00.005-06:00

Another important person in my life has passed. My brother in law(hmm, how do I put this), was finally given the knockout punch early this morning. He starved himself to death as many at that stage are want to do. Damn fucking son of a bitch fucking damn fucking.....cancer. Fuck. Sorry. He was one of the kindest, generous, most decent people I've ever had the chance to know. And, at the age of 56 (shit). Curtis had the driest, most incredible wit I've ever experienced. We developed an early connection in the relationship because we were in love with siblings. We knew what the "Redow production number" meant. The invention of drinking "rockets" on Christmas and then totally forgetting the recipe, no one knows what's in them now, "Queen" Joanie (whom he's with at this time). A man of taste, style and class. A man who, in every picture, is smiling. A trusted friend and mentor to my kids who worshipped the ground he walked on. And always will. A man who will now never grow old and leaves a wonderful person on this Earth alone and devastated. 30 years together and now each one of them are free of the things that wore them down and created a burden on their shoulders. When I first got into the relationship, I knew I was in the big city because it involved gay people in the family. The horrors. Being a kid from the farm, while coming through Kansas City and such, I never formed much of an opinion either way. More curiosity than anything. I can amazingly and honestly say that apparently you CAN'T catch it, because neither one of the kids are gay. That I know of. The joke was always that Curtis and Micheal were together for longer than any of the hetero sexual couples. And it wasn't even close. They didn't "divorce". This was love. From the depths of their souls, truer love has never existed.
So, fare thee well, my friend and colleague. I know you'll set a place for me at the table of the father along with the rest of my family because you were, indeed, my family. Your grace and goodness will be reverberated through the generations of my daughter's children's, children's, children.
You, sir are legend.

"You and I will meet again...When we're least expecting it. One day in some far off place...I will recognize your face...I won't say goodbye my friend...For you and I will meet again"---Tom Petty
Curtis Bright 1955-2011
I will always love you.

Trying To Loosen My Load, I Got Seven Women On My Mind

2011-01-30T19:04:00.003-06:00

Sitting at the two week precipice of 55, there are a few things I've found out. It's hard to do, but you really can't sweat the small stuff and the things you can't control. Certain things never change and the biggest thing that never changes is change.
"Changes changing places, chain yourself to the the ground..." I need to gain control of my body again, just like I did twenty years ago. I will drop twenty pounds in three months not because I want to, but the line has been crossed where I need to.
2011 has started with the most difficult and challenging circumstances I have experienced in a while. I'm halfway through what I need to do...while Sunday morning is one of my favorite times, I'm not sure why Sunday afternoon bothers me so much. I think 4:30-5pm on Sunday night is one of my least favorite time of the week. It may have something to do with separation anxiety when I was a kid or something but I have never ever liked Sunday afternoon. I'm glad it's over.

I don't know half the people on the awards show anymore. Yes, I'm turning 55. My mom once said a number of years ago that "things were happening too fast" she felt out of it and left behind and she didn't know anyone on TV anymore. When I hear that Ringo is 70, it makes me stop and think of days gone by and grab a new perspective on the who, what, when why and how. I know where.

Set and ready to go in Farmington ahead of the storm, huddled in to the room until the storm of the century has passed and hopefully the end of a long long lonely winter.

I love the "mayhem" campaign by Allsate featuring the guy who played on "Oz". It's like the "Real men Of Genius" campaign where I'm waiting to see what the next one will be.

The radio station is still picking up steam. I have taken the songs a new direction, it's much more of a classic rock statio with a large playlist than it was an oldies station. I just took out the bubble gum stuff that didn't fit were I wanted it to go. It's now in it's second year of broadcasting. I also added some cool sound effects from the old Beaker Street radio program that broadcast all over the northern continent, bringing the sounds of "King Crimson", "Yes" ,"Atomic Rooster","Iron Butterfly" and more into unsuspecting kids bedrooms everywhere there was an AM radio. Trying to market by the senses. www.planetradio.us

Rod Stewart is an artist that sends more conflicting messages to me.I have loved some of the things he's done (I still think that "Stay With Me" is one of THE great rock songs), the entire"Every Picture Tells A Story" is a masterpiece. "Never a Dull Moment" was great and then he sank into the "Atlantic Crossing", "Night on the Town" and the dreadful "Blondes Have More Fun" era which brought us "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" and the total sell out (until recently) of him to disco. he hasn't been relevant for years. He did redeem himself after the disco crap with an album called "Foot Loose and Fancy Free". His crowning moment of that LP was "I Was Only Joking". I remember playing it at KFMH in Muscatine Iowa and every timed I played it , some one called and asked what album that song was on. As I've lived my life, the words are more poignant than ever...

So, as my old friend Oat Willie once said "Onward thru the Fog..."

Lives must be led, and as family members must find their way to the other side of life, we say good bye to my brother in law Curtis Bright. True love like the kind you and Michael shared will never be found again. 30 years together is a long time. We've had four years more than we thought we would, but the end is not always pretty or decent. You're a better man than that, so I wish you a speedy and painless good night. I know how much we'll miss you. 56 is way too young and much too close for comfort.

As someone somewhere once said, when it rains, it pours and in this season, it pours some more.

But, in contrast we welcome young Miss Savannah Kay Carlson, daughter of my nephew Ryan and his lovely bride Amber, who went to the same high school I did, so she was automatically accepted.

It's the storm of the century, hang on wherever you are. I started writing this at 4:30 on a dreary Sunday afternoon on the second to last day of January 2011, approximately 22 months away from the "sun gods" coming back to earth to save us. Chariots of the Gods?

"Take good care of your brother..."
-Jackson Browne

40 Years Ago Musically Speaking

2011-01-25T16:20:00.006-06:00

The month of January 1971, I was living in the middle of nowhere, four miles outside of Ava Missouri, off highway FF in a house that used to be the George Pledger residence. "Where do you live?" "The old George Pledger place"..."oh, ok". Small town restless and bored, playing basketball and trying to stay out of trouble. Life was NOT good, I did NOT have a normal childhood. My mother and father were apart and I wasn't quite old enough (or capable enough) to hold the family together. My brother was in Vietnam and we walked on those eggshells for four years. Life was happening, the world was changing and I was....stuck, frustrated and simply bored. Playing basketball and the radio were my saviours. Not sure what order they would be in, sometimes it changed from day to day. Basketball (sometimes in a far away place), go to the room, turn on the radio and do homework. The radio was my ticket to Chicago. To Little Rock, Nashville, Denver and other far away places. I knew I wanted to do what they did, so I hung on every word. The DJ on WLS was Kris Eric Stevens. He was the "night jock" who would keep all of us small town kids from being bored. He could tell a story in 13 1/2 seconds, the exact time it took to talk over the beginning of "She's A Lady" by Tom Jones or "Your Song" by Elton John. Tell a joke in 5 3/4 seconds over the intro of "Stoney End" by Barbra Streisand or make me believe he used the latest product or service he was selling. He not only branded himself into my brain all those years ago, but so did the music. I think the long distance crackling and static made each song special. You had to listen when it was there because sometimes, it would fade... So, yes, I liked Tony Orlando and Dawn and Gladys Knight with her Pips and yes, I admit it, I loved Bread. Not for any other reason but that my favorite DJ made it sound special enough for me to care. Bread wrote love songs for 15 year olds.

With a tribute to the music, here are my top five songs to appear in the top 40 according Billboard magazine on January 30th 1971

I loved Rare Earth. I saw them play at the Uptown in Kansas City in 1982 with all of the original members. It was one of the best show I have ever seen. This is recent but Peter Rivera makes it sound great..

I also loved Bread. From the first time I heard "Make It With You", I thought these guys made smart, well written and well played songs. Three of the four guys are dead. They were highly sought after session men for years. An uptempo number from them..

What ever happened to these guys? I actually have in my possession their first two albums. Interesting and different with excellent harmonies and excellent playing. Great one hit wonder band.

The mighty Zep sounded ten times louder coming through the AM airwaves. This took the chill off a winter night. Hammer of the Gods. I went out and ordered the album the first time I heard this.

Dave Edmunds is an effing genius. Nuff said. This song was about 20 years ahead of its time

Here was the top twenty on that day:
1. Knock Three Times-Dawn
2. My Sweet Lord/Isn't It A Pity - George Harrison
3. Lonely Days - Bee Gees
4. One Less Bell to Answer - Fifth Dimension
5. Rose Garden - Lynn Anderson
6. Groove Me - King Floyd
7. I Hear You Knockin - Dave Edmunds
8. Your Song _ Elton John
9. One Bad Apple - Osmonds
10. Stoney End - Barbra Streisand
11. If I Were Your Woman - Gladys Knight
12. Black Magic Woman - Santana
13. It's Impossible - Perry Como (!)
14. Love The One You're With - Stephen Stills
15. I Think I Love You - Partridge Family
16. Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin
17. Born to Wander - Rare Earth
18. Mr. Bojangles - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
19. Remember Me - Diana Ross
20. We Gotta Get You A Woman - Runt (Todd Rundgren)

Matching tats

2011-01-18T22:22:00.003-06:00

Mine (tattoo virgin)

My daughters (she's a pro)

The Importance of .002

2011-01-18T20:07:00.005-06:00

I have a friend. He's a good guy. Has lots of common sense. He works hard and is very aware of the world around him. He thinks of himself as someone who is blessed with many things. And he is. Sometime last fall at a gathering of friends on a Saturday night, he decided to be as careful as he could be when it came to drinking that night. The party started at six and he had a drink. At eight oclock, he had another one and at ten thirty, one more. The party broke up after mid night and he had a conversation with himself about his condition. Should he crash at the hotel next door? Should he wait a few minutes or go ahead and make the five mile journey home? He decided to go ahead and drive home because felt like he was fine. His house was two turns off the interstate and there was no one on the road at that time of the morning. My friend was pulled over by the Maryland Heights Police not far after he entered the roadway. The reason? Not exactly clear. The cop put him through the usual regimen of tests including the finger to nose, stand on one leg etc. He passed all of those tests with flying colors. After passing those tests, the cop made him blow. He was arrested, handcuffed and hauled off to the station where my friend blew a .082 in the breathalyzer. .002 over the limit!! Do you realize how much .002 is? If you were to take a 12 oz can of soda, .002 would be two teaspoons. .002 equals two sips of a drink. So, all of his planning to be careful went for naught. He hired a lawyer. That lawyer told my friend that this was a pattern of that particular police department. They had a quota to fill and it was getting late in the month. The lawyer requested a copy of the police report and I remember my friend saying that what was on the report wasn't even close to what happened. See, my friend was indeed over the limit but not intoxicated or drunk. He has a very sharp recollection of what came down that night, because he was "careful". According to my friend, the cop embellished the police report to make it look worse than what it was and my friend did not recognize the chain of events as recorded by the officer. Now, my friend is lumped in with the drunk drivers in the world. The ones who habitually break the law. His driving record is ruined and this indiscretion will end up costing him thousands of dollars along with the pain, embarrassment and humiliation he now feels. He can't drive for thirty days and now must attend classes for alcoholics, although he isn't one. When his 30 days are done, he can only drive back and forth to work and it will take him years to get his insurance rates back in line. How much longer will it take to repair his reputation? Two sips. .002 Two thousandths. Thank God my friend works for a company and a boss who are forgiving and understand his importance to his company. He's already had a face to face discussion with each one of his employees to tell them the truth before they hear it somewhere else. He told me that one of the hardest things he's ever done was to talk to his kids and be honest about it. It's even a crueler twist of fate knowing his daughter had two friends killed by drunken drivers when she was in high school. Bob Dylan once sang about a simple twist of fate. He's living it. His faith in God notwithstanding, I wonder sometimes how large our shoulders must be to carry a weight so heavy. I'm not sure what has upset him the most. Was it the fact that he was careless or the fact that someone who is sworn to uphold the law lied. My friend was devastated and he still is. You can see it in his eyes and the way he handles himself. The confident, successful guy is now withdrawn and sad. "I don't know if I'll ever get over this" he told me. The moral? Before you have that last sip of the margarita or it's imperative to finish that last pitcher, think of my friend and know that .002 will be a scarlet letter he wears around his neck for the rest of his life. Yes, it CAN happen to you. And if it does, I don't wish this "simple twist of fate" on you or anyone.

Lint on my cuff

2011-01-05T14:42:00.005-06:00

I have read with great amazement Ted Williams' story. He's been everywhere due to some Facebook video posting. Come to find out this guy is homeless and has the "voice of God." He's now working due to the inherent goodness of the human race. Someone, somewhere found this guy and decided to take a chance on him. I find myself confused in my feelings of hope, but then again, how many radio guys are like that? How many never learned to do spomething else and being on the radio is all they know? Now, when their livelihood is gone, where do they go and what do they do? I am especailly troubled about the guys who were just a bit older than myself who are out of work. Must be hard. "What you do to the least of me, you do to me..." I wish him well.

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I have reached the age where things are happening to and with my body that I can't explain. Will it be like the Boz Scaggs song "Breakdown Dead Ahead"? Even though I have tried to keep myself in the best shape possible, I wonder if past abuses will now come roaring into my life? Yes, I believe there is a male menopause phase that we go through. My metabolism has slowed, I find difficulty in sleeping, have continual hot sweats and now, headaches that will not go away. It all started with my right eye turning red, droopping and watering constantly. Then the headaches started. I have had three of them that have knocked me for a loop and confined me to bedrest. The latest one was yesterday. I had to leave work, go home, find darkness and quiet. The doctor's first diagnosis was "cluster headaches". I have NEVER had a headache in my life. Ever. Look up cluster headaches. This doesn't look fun. Or could this be some weird, slow developing reaction to my past drug use? I guess we'll find out.

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Radio keeps calling me to return and I keep refusing. This latest flirtation is for the GM of two stations. Major company, major city and surely major money. " A bird in the hand"....and I think I'm happy with the bird in my hand. I'm not making a great deal of dough, but I enjoy my work, my team and my life at this point. Do I want to muck it all again? My past history would say yes, trash the whole thing beacsue that's what I know to do. But, I'm hoping I've learned a few valuable lessons in life. The teaching of lessons has left carcasses along my highway of life and some of those carcasses are people I love dearly. What will happen? we shall see.

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The radio station http://www.planetradio.us/ is now running the playlist A-Z. I listened for awhile this morning and heard "Hollywood" by Shooting Star and "Hollywood Nights" by Bob Seger. On the air for a year, the listenership keeps growing. I think I'm building a better mousetrap. No money to be made but some guys have trains, I have this....

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RIP Mr. Gerry Rafferty. You wrote a song about me, for me and to me. If there was ever an autobiographical song, it had to be "Baker Street". It seems that song fit my life like a glove. I gave up the booze and the one night stands...his "City to City" album still resides in my top ten and always will. Apperantly, he drank himself to death. I could certainly relate to that. That's too bad, I know I'l remember him for that perfect description of one man's life set to song

And finally, the love of my life...(sorry, Boo).

Smart, confident, has good common sense (for a 21 year old), and downright beautiful...and last Father's day, she took me out to dinner to thank me for doing a great job raising her.

It does NOT get any better than that.

How Did I Get Here?

2010-12-09T21:19:00.004-06:00

When I was a kid, St. Louis was the big city. It is where my cousins have lived their entire lives. My mother and father honeymooned here at Sportman's park. There was shooting that night in the ballpark. Yikes.When we would drive here from Ava or East Moline, my mother would invariably miss the exit on the "freeway" and then panic would ensue. Especially if my grandmother was in the car with us. "We're going to get killed on this highway, sis." That's when I would lean over into the front seat and casually explain to go to the next exit, turn left, then left again, and we'd be heading the opposite way. One time that happened and when my mom got to the next exit, then followed my instructions on getting back on the highway, she would turn left instead of right, not thinking that we were coming from the...opposite...way. My love affair with KSHE began in 1973 on one of my first road trips alone. I stayed with my cousins and they had a station that played "Cowgirl in the Sand" by Neil Young. Touchdown! I started getting serious about my love for radio at 16. My sister in law at the time introduced me to someone who taught at The Academy of Radio and Television in Bettendorf Iowa. I walked in with her, got an audition, passed it and then realized after two months I couldn't afford it on my meager restaurant salary. 3 years after that I was enrolled and on a fast track to getting in the business six months later at KFMH in Muscatine Iowa, a station that had no playlist. Fast forward to me taking the afternoon job at KSHE in 1985. Now, I'm in the newspaper business and still residing in Kirkwood (11 miles southwest of downtown). I have thought many times that life evens itself out. I have been truly blessed with a career that lasted 33 years and not one day was spent working. And I have lived in a city that used to fill me with awe when I was a kid. I am also sad that many of my relatives have departed this Earth early in my life. I lost my dad at 21, my mother at 32 and my dear brother at 37. God has provided me a great life but, I haven't had many of the previous generation around long enough to enjoy it. That's OK. I think that's the way it sometimes works out, and looking back on all of this wonderful (and sometimes tragic) roller coaster of a ride, I still wonder...how the hell did I get here?

Where were you?

2010-12-08T11:32:00.006-06:00

I was having a conversation today at work with someone who was not even alive when John Lennon was murdered. Apparently, he was listening to the radio this morning and was curious about the significance of Lennon's murder. I tried to explain to him that in my generation, the two "where were you" moments happened on November 22nd 1963 and on December 8th, 1980. I would throw 9/11 in there (as it was HIS where were you moment) but that happened so much later in my life. Maybe I was used to shocking news but even though 9/11 was a horrific act carried out by cowards, it didn't effect me like the two previous incidents.

John Bonham of Led Zeppelin died in September of 1980 right when the band was getting ready to go out on tour. In early December, Robert Plant announced that the band was done. No more Led Zep. I was doing the 6pm-10pm shift at KY 102 at that time. Since Led Zep was done, we activated our own tribute by playing Led Zeppelin's complete catalog from A-Z.

I had just finished my shift. It was pretty unmemorable. I think a caller bitched about the Zeppelin tribute and we had a nice discussion. It was very cold out that night. I know that because I was driving my 72 VW bug with a marginal (non existent) heater. I lived not far from the station on Belleview in Kansas City which was one of the main thoroughfares in the city. I got home in about ten minutes and waiting for me there was someone who I had fallen madly in love with very quickly. Bree has been the subject of a couple of previous posts. She has turned out to be one of my true loves in the very short time we spent together. We were inseparable at this time. Since I worked the night shift, I ate at very odd times. Bree had called earlier and wondered what I wanted to eat for dinner, I told her and she prepared a feast with a big steak and a baked potato to be ready at about 10:15. I got home, kissed her, took off my coat and went outside because the dog we had got together was getting ready to do his doody. We got the dog a couple of days before and I held a "dog naming" contest on the air. ("Feedback" was the winner and the name so suited the dog.) While I was standing outside waiting for the mutt to do his duty, someone horrible must've happened because when I went back into the house, Bree was crying. What the heck? There was a football game on between the Dolphins and the Patriots and I didn't think she was into football all that much."What's wrong?" I asked. Through the sobs and tears she blurted out "John Lennon's been shot." "WHAT?" I said. And it was just about that time that Howard Cosell announced to the world..."an unspeakable tragedy has just been confirmed by abc news...". I don't think I heard what he said next. The first thing I did was call the KY hotline. It was answered by the Beatle expert at the station, Jon Hart. "I just heard" he said and he wondered if we should continue the Led Zeppelin countdown. "Do what you think is right." Not waiting on anybody, he ditched the programming and we played Beatles/Lennon music for days. It was the correct call. The next night was the most difficult show I've ever done. I couldn't stop crying. I was pro, dammit, but this was different. I grew up with the Beatles, they have composed the soundtrack of my life. I almost felt like John was my big brother and now my "big brother" was dead. Not just dead but gunned down, cold blooded in front of the place he called home in front of his wife by a "fan". A fan? How could this despicable piece of shit be a fan? The facts were coming to light at a staggering pace. Remember, this was 1980, no internet, no instant news. While doing my show the following night, I received a phone call from the pastor at the All Souls Unitarian church not far from the plaza. "Would you be interested in saying a few words in John's memory tomorrow? We are having a candle light vigil at the church. It would be like delivering a eulogy." He said. Not quite really knowing what I was getting into, I agreed. I didn't own a suit and had very few nice clothes. (Hey, I was a "DJ", what did you expect?) So Bree and I ravaged through my closet and I came up with what is pictured here. I don't think anyone really cared what I was dressed in. I had all my notes on index cards about what I wanted to say. When we arrived at the church, it was a standing room only crowd, it was so crowded in there, I could hardly breathe. On a side note, when we walked in, everyone turned around to see us. I say see us, but in reality it was her that everyone wanted to see. She was like that, a "head turner" as my mom called her. As we walked up to the podium, Bree turned to me and said..."do you really need those notes? You should go up there and speak from the heart and I think you'll be surprised at how well you will do." I told her she was nuts and she just smiled and kissed me on the cheek. I threw away the notes and did 40 minutes from the heart. It may have been one of my best speeches ever. I know it sounds strange and it felt strange too. I was filled with things to say and they kept popping into my head, point after point. It wasn't me talking. I finished the speech to a standing ovation and Bree looking up at me with an incredible sparkle in her eye. I met Yoko many years later and told her the story. "John was with you," she said. When she said that, I felt an incredible rush and just about kissed her. I met Yoko in her hotel room at the Chesterfield Doubletree Inn in 1987. She was travelling around the country displaying John's artwork and the person who ran the gallery knew of my affection for the Beatles because I did a segment on KSHE everyday at 4pm called "The Afternoon Beatles". That's where I would play some tunes and actualities from them. She was a fan and gave me first rites to Yoko. I found her to be an incredibly sweet, charming and completely devoid of the "bitch' label that was attached to her. "John fell out of love with the Beatles and in love with me. Why is that so hard for people to understand?" Why indeed? She sent me a Christmas card every year at the station until I left in 1998. I wonder if she is still sending the cards? Bree was killed in a car accident in 1995 as she moved to California and married her first love not long after we split 1981. We still have a mutual friend who has her kids as Facebook friends. They are beautiful.

You still fill up my senses.

And I still miss you.

The First Time I Ever Heard.....Kansas

2010-11-16T14:51:00.003-06:00

While finishing up high school, I did a number of odd jobs. I worked at Miller Container in Milan, I sold Channel 100 (Home Box Office) and I worked at a TEAM electronics store which was right across 42nd Avenue from my house, which made it convenient. I really had no selling skills, but quickly adapted my greeting to one where each question could be answered by a question. "Do you have an lower end models?" "What would you consider lower end?" Etc. This quality has become very important to me now, as I teach my people to do the same, answer a question with a question and you can find out many details that you never knew. Every once in a while, we would get promo copies of records and one day, we got this weird looking album on a label called "Kirschner". What? Never heard of this label, but certainly knew who Don Kirschner through his late night TV show, an alternative to the sometimes overly poppy "Midnight Special". Our job? Sell stereos. How? Put something that "sounds" good through the speakers. When I say something that "sounds" good, that's sonically speaking. Now a particular musical genre may sound "good" to you, but if the recording is inferior, it won't "sound" good. Not knowing anyone or any song on this LP, I think it stayed behind the counter a couple of weeks, until we got real busy one day. While "Crime of the Century" by Supertramp (the ultimate sonically good sounding LP of 1974) was in use, I reached behind the counter and grabbed this weird looking LP from these guys from Kansas. Closing m self and the customers in the sound proof room, we went off to check out the latest equipment available and on went the Kansas album. I accidentally flipped the LP to side two where the song "The Pilgrimage" immediately came blaring through the speakers and literally just about knocked us down. I was not sure what this music was, I just knew I had never heard something like that before and I wasn't sure I liked it. So, after the rush died down, I taped the LP on to one of our 8 tracks and took it home. After clearing my head later, I sat down and heard "Can I Tell You" and "Lonely Wind". Wow! What dynamics and depth. I got into the longer, more progressive stuff , too and quickly became a fan. They played at a very small venue in the Quad Cities and there might have been 50 people in the bar that night. They debuted a song called"Song For America" and again, I was blown away at how tight they were. I called them the Yes of the midwest and that's what they sounded like to me. When "Song For America" and "Masque" came out, I still thought they had talent but they plateaued at that point. I knew if they were going to go somewhere and be somewhere big, they needed that ONE song, that song that would push them past the midwest and on album number four, they found it. When "THE" song came on the radio for the first time, I knew it was them and I knew that was going to be THE song that did it. I was right. It sounded like nothin else on the radio at that time. I had just started my radio career when their big song happened and I told the story of how I "found" them. Someone called and said they loved that story. I remember telling the story to Steve Walsh later in my career and he seemed impressed (Steve was a very difficult interview). In early 74, at TEAM electronics in East Moline Illinois is where and how I first heard Kansas

My First Interview

2010-09-10T23:09:00.005-05:00

For those who don't know...being in radio was all I ever wanted to do. At a very early age, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer always took the oldsters by surprise..."I want to be on the radio."
I was given the first opportunity in Ava, Mo. at 15, reading the news. I nailed it and then the radio heroin slowly but surely took hold. I went to radio school while going to high school (the same radio school that spawned Spike O'dell, who retired from WGN). In between my sophomore and junior year at United Township High School in East Moline Illinois, I got the opportunity to "play" radio.
UTHS was so big, it had two campuses, one for the 9th and 10th grades and the big newer campus was reserved for the "big kids." When I made the jump, I immediately sought out the journalism teacher who was the only teacher at UT that had hair longer than mine. A couple of us "radio heads" started a club for future broadcasters, the only left thing to do was start a radio station. (yes, that's me, third from left)

One of us had knowledge about electronics, one was up on the government, another was a programming nut (me) and the other guys were just there because it was fun. We petitioned the FCC for a low power license and got started that summer on procuring radio equipment that the local stations could
a.) donate or
b.) throw away.
At the start of 11th grade (September 1972), we had just received word that the FCC had granted us a license for us to broadcast with a one watt tower. Somehow, our technical guy fashioned a tower out of a CB antenna and got permission to mount it on the roof. You could hear the station in the parking lot and on a real good day, in my bedroom which was about 3/4 of a mile away.
The first thing we did was to write all of the record companies asking if they would send us free albums.(I learned that during my travels through various stations in the area.) Sure enough, RCA and MCA sent us copies of albums they wanted us to play. In one bundle from MCA under the new "Groundhogs" and "Wishbone Ash" albums was this group of long haired hard nosed looking guys named Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Their first album of course was "Pronounced", released in 1973. We auditioned it and thought these guys had some talent. Plus, there was an 8 minute song on there that had to be good, right?
A few months passed and while listening to the radio, I heard that these guys were coming through Davenport, opening for someone else I had just discovered named ZZ Top. I wrote the record company asking if I could get an interview with the guys in LS, explaining that we had made an anthem out of Freebird, we played the song every Friday at dismissal time, it had become a tradition to kick off the weekend.
About a week later, over the loudspeaker, I was informed there was a phone call for me at the principals office. Of course, I thought it was my mom or someone in my family but it was the national rep for MCA explaining to me the rules of the interview. After the show and only for ten minutes, I would get "someone" in the band. The "press passes" would be available at the box office window.
So, with notepad and cassette recorder in hand, I went to the show, was absolutely destroyed by how they blew ZZ off the stage. It wasn't close. Those five tough looking guys just smoked.
I waited around back stage after the show, feeling pretty large about my "press pass" and waited, and waited, and waited. A stage door opened and out came Ronnie VanZandt, not more than 21 or 22 at the time. Still barefoot, he seemed pretty reluctant to talk.
"So, let me get this straight, you have a high school radio station?" "Yes, sir" I replied. "And you broadcast?" "Yes sir, we even get out to the parking lot." He laughed very hard at that and seemed to be a bit more interested.
We chatted about a number of things..growing up in a town on the wrong side of the tracks...what was a lynyrd skynyrd ( a gym teacher they hated so they called him that)...he was pissed off at Neil Young about his songs "Alabama" and "Southern Man" which made the south seem like rednecks...musical influences...how we both hated Nixon... At the end of the interview (which lasted 30 minutes) someone came and got him and he seemed bummed to have to quit. "So you have a radio station in high school that broadcasts over the air? In Jacksonville we never heard of anything like that. How cool." He shook my hand, gave me a hug and was genuinely impressed that a kid from a high school radio station was the only media outlet who wanted to interview the band, no one else did.
"We love you guys, when you come back maybe you can play at my school?" "Sure, kid, be happy to", he replied.
Before he left, I said I had one more question for him..."sure kid, what?" "Why do you perform barefoot?" I asked. "So I can feel the stage burn" he answered. Then he was gone.
I thought Skynyrd's first two album were filthy, nasty, take no prisoners rock and roll. They got sloppy with the next two but "Street Survivors" to me, was/is a masterpiece.
It was 1976 when I got into the business for good, long after "Sweet Home Alabama" made these guys household names. I will never forget the kindness of Ronnie VanZandt to put up with a 17 year old punk kid who was just looking to help fulfill his dream.
While working in Muscatine, Iowa in the fall of 1977, we all got the news about the plane crash. I pulled out my cassette from that interview and played it. I realized at that time how much I sucked in the interview, but no one seemed to care. I have only cried twice on the air and that was the first time.

My next interview, in 1978, was with Harry Chapin.

So Long, my friend

2010-08-14T10:33:00.005-05:00

I woke up this morning, getting ready for a vacation north to Chicago and on to Lake Geneva, where my parents used to go drink "highballs" when I was a kid. While I love my job, it is very stressful hitting numbers month after month. So, before the busy period heats up, it's off to cooler pastures. After being up late tinkering with the internet station, I woke late to devastating news. One of the true giants in my life passed in San Jose due to a failing heart. His heart was in such bad shape that he had to have a triple bypass just to get his heart healthy enough to handle a new, transplanted one. He didn't make it. I met Rich and Lisa through an old girlfriend. That girlfriend and I conducted the most tempestuous relationship I have ever known (her story is a number of posts down). Passion, anger, love and hate, all wrapped into one. She was the only woman in my life who ever hit me (actually gave me a cauliflower ear, she hit me so hard). During this relationship, I moved in with Rich and his girlfriend Lisa to a nice, porched duplex on Wyoming street in Kansas City. The porch over looked Roanoke Park and it was a funky, nice place for two guys our age. Even at that time, Rich had health trouble as he suffered from juvenile diabetes and once had a seizure that I didn't know how to handle. We moved in on 9/9/81, I remember it because I did a bit that day on the date, being 9 X 9=81. This was also a very strange time in my life because I was addicted to cocaine. Hey, come on, the rent was about $135 a month and my car was paid off. I had more money than I knew what to do with (Robin Williams was right). The weekdays were fine, I'd only do a little, but when the weekends came, I checked out. The girl and I split up, which propelled my usage of cocaine and now, women, to all time heights. Hey man, I was the king of nighttime radio and I was a star. Everybody wanted to be like me and everyone knew me. I used the power like very few before me. After having about the sixth different woman to the house in three weeks, Lisa and Rich finally said ..."enough." At 26, I was acting like I was 19. They had careers and passions in their life that were so diametrically opposed to mine. They needed to work/study and I needed to party and fuck. Lisa was in training to become a doctor (which she did) and Rich was developing an incredible passion for computers (which he parlayed into a great career). In 1981, he told me something about this thing called the "internet" that would revolutionize the way we did business. He also was following this upstart company called Microsoft and, if I remember correctly, starting buying stock when it was available gobs of it at a time. Rich also had cockatiels, lots of them. They were kinda dirty and loud, but they were also very cool. He trained them to do and say things at his command. Rich and Lisa saved my life. They walked up to me and basically saw me much differently than I saw me and proceeded to tell me about about it. Lisa called me out on the way I treated women and made me know in no uncertain terms it wouldn't be tolerated anymore. I tried to hid the women as I slept on the porch in the summertime, because I would get off work at 10pm and didn't want to disturb them when I would come in late stumbling and fumbling to get naked with someone I had just met. I remember those days well. Not long after that, I decided, for some reason, to take a job in Denver, leaving the new girlfriend (whom I was crazy about) and Rich and Lisa in somewhat of a lurch, because, like a lot of things back then, the decision was made on impulse. See, children of alcoholics go out of their way to destroy the things that mean something because we're not sure how to handle happiness and contentment, we don't know what it's like to be happy. It's a foreign subject for us. I went to Denver because I was pissed at the management of KY 102. That's it, that's the reason. Nice work, Randy, way to drop a nuclear bomb on everyone. After returning to KC in about six months because I knew I made the wrong decision, (Skid Roadie was hired as my replacement, I think that turned out pretty well), I reconnected with the girlfriend but didn't really get to see Rich and Lisa much, they both were on to other things. Engaged for 8 years, Rich and Lisa decided to tie the knot at Lourdes Church in St. Louis in October 1985. I believe the day they got married was the "..go crazy, folks, go crazy.." day. I danced with the tempestuous one that day, then never saw her again. It was a great closure. Rich had such a kind heart and soul and you could get him to laugh easily. You could certainly tell how much these two loved each other and I think secretly, I was looking for that too, but I had no idea where to find it like they did. We lived together for just over a year but I was a different person leaving Wyoming street than I was when I got there. It took someone of Rich and Lisa's temperament to slap me out of my adolescence at 26. We met up a few times through the years but we reconnected via...you guessed it, Facebook. Rich lived a full life and he was loved completely by a beautiful, talented, brilliant woman. It's what we all search for. He found it in bountiful ways and filled his life with so much cool stuff. I think he always knew that he would not live to be an old man. There was always this underlying feel with him. I think he wanted to do as much as he could do in this life. He knew it, so did Lisa and I knew it, too. I'll miss you Rich and all you taught me. I'll miss you mostly for throwing me a life raft as I wandered into waters that were much too treacherous and swift. Thanks for standing up to me and forcing me to confront my demons. I'll never forget you. Rest in peace, my good friend, the fight is over.

East Moline

2010-08-11T19:32:00.008-05:00

The death of one of East Moline's legendary figures today got me thinking about the town that I spent many formative years in. There are five cities in the Quad Cities and for the most part, East Moline is the one left out. Yup, you have Davenport, Rock Island, Moline and...Bettendorf or East Moline? The consensus is Bettendorf, although years ago, Bettendorf was the little pip squeak, not considered part of the mix at all. What happened? In all honesty, East Moline was always considered "the other side of the tracks" along with, to a certain extent Rock Island. I think we had the largest amount of blacks and in East Moline's case, hispanics, too. Horrors! East Moline was a factory town, with John Deere, International Harvester, McLaughlin Body and other manufacturing places that at one time employed anyone who wanted to work. East Moline was considered a great place to move to if you wanted or needed a job. I actually met my first DJ there and I thought it was so cool to shake his hand. (I later worked with him KC which was a bizarre twist of fate). If you went to McKinley or Hoffman grade schools, the other kids in Glenview or UT knew one thing, the wrong side of the tracks in a town that was on the wrong side of the tracks. McKinley was the Campbell's Island kids and Hoffman was the projects. I went to Hillcrest, then McKinley (thanks mom and dad). The high school was huge. United Township High School. UTHS. That made us Panthers different, because all of the public high schools in the Quad Cities were named after their city. Not us. We're UNITED Township, mahfuggers!!! Take that, Moline! Except in the early part of the school year, when it got really hot and people noticed that we were all different and pointed it out with less than a political correctness. Every year it seemed at one time or another during the first couple of weeks at school, we'd "grab someone who looked different than us and go to the bottom of the pile" then just hang on. When the weather cooled, so did we. The high school was so big, it was housed in two campuses. The freshmen and sophomores occupied north campus ("the prison"), and the "big kids" went to South Campus, which was approximately three miles down the road. The teachers were as diverse as the students. Mr Diaz for American History and Miss Newborne for English. She was about twenty five, black and about six feet tall with legs... Man, it was hard to concentrate on anything she said. She was absolutely stunning, tall and slim. Gah. She wrote in my yearbook ..."to Randy, a guy who always underestimates himself..." Whoa. I "thought" about her a lot and she really took an interest in a kid that was just trying to fit in. One of my good friends was black, one was hispanic and the best kiss I had in high school was from Rosalie Martinez (God, what a wonderful full set of lips, she just swallowed my face....) Why was it called United Township? That's because we took kids from Silvis, Carbon Cliff, Green Rock, Colona, Hampton and other places. None of those destinations would make anyone's top ten on places to live. I also lived on Campbell's (cannibals) Island which was a haven for bad ass dudes who would just as soon whip you just to practice on someone. East Moline was not Bettendorf, that's for sure. We had a bit of a toughness and a bit of an attitude. It's a river town, for Pete's sake. My first marriage was to a girl from Silvis and my virginity was taken in a trailer for crap's sake by a woman older than me (That story is on it's way). That leads me back to my original point. Coach Talley died yesterday and anyone who was there at the time knew what an influence he was. He was the coach from 1964 to 1984. He was the John Wooden of UT. Second place in 1970, fourth in 79 and if a couple of the members of the 74 team hadn't gotten really stupid, he thought that team was his best. We were 28-3, ranked third in the state and right before the tournament, two guys got in trouble and we lost to an 16-11 team in the regionals. That team broke his heart. That was the cool thing about coach, it seemed his team were always ranked. One of the most famous residents of East Moline (Carbon Cliff) was Jude Cole, who has a few hits off his first album in the early nineties. He was taught how to play the guitar from a friend of mine Paul Durry. One of my ex-coworkers married a guy from East Moline, class of 84, exactly ten years behind, who hates going there. I get that. She doesn't know it the way I remember, a vibrant manufacturing town where the guys of my parents generation worked hard in the shops and drank hard. The women stayed at home and raised the kids the best way they could. I have nothing but fond memories of the place. It's a nice place to be from. But, for those of us who worked at (or went to) the Semri Drive In, went to Skateland every damn weekend, ate Franks Pizza, had Mexican food at Adolph's, went to shows at the Col Ballroom or RKO Theatre, had a Hungry Hobo, got ice cream at Whitey's, ate a Maid Rite,worked (or ate) at Harvey's Diner or bowled at Highland Park Bowl, it was, whatever else it was, home. With the passing of Coach Talley, my grip on home is loosened, however slightly.

HEY COACH, where's your crew cut?

His story, and a fine one it is...

Effing Facebook

2010-08-10T21:13:00.001-05:00

I got this in my message box today...

August 10 at 12:39am

Hey there Randy! I don't want to sound corny or anything..but, thanks! Remember when your status said "if you could go back 20 years and tell yourself what you know now"..or something like that. Do you remember that status? I replied something or the other about telling myself that just because my birthmother couldn't be the person I wanted her to be didn't mean she didn't care and so on.....well...because of that status...I contacted my birthmother. I wrote her a letter....we've been in contact and started a new relationship ever since! She is actually very ill with Ovarian Cancer but so far, she's winning. They had given her until the 4th of July to live but she surpassed it! What is odd, is that you wrote that status, I answered...I then contemplated on what to do...I prayed...I didn't make church that following Sunday so I watched our church on TV..the sermon that day was about forgiving a parent for leaving them etc...made me think about your status and how I answerd..so I decided to write her. It just so happens that she found out about the cancer at the same time you put the status up...I don't know..it's like it was a plan or something....I dont know...
Anyway....thank you for this gift..it all started with your status and now I have something that I've longed for, for so many years...atleast the beginning of something anyway! You are amazing, even when you don't realize it!

Yeah, I know Facebook's a worthless past time, but dang, as Mr. Adujar said many years ago..."youneverknow"

THE Band

2010-08-08T10:50:00.002-05:00

I was discussing music (what else?)with a friend of mine the other day and we were talking about the "chair" structure in band. How the best players got "first" chair and so on. If you were "fourth" chair, you either had to decide that a)you were going to get real good real fast or b)you weren't going to do be doing this long and the football team needed a manager. The conversation then turned to who would occupy the "chairs" when it came to songwriters. That got me thing.. who would occupy my first "chairs" when it came to songwriters. Thinking that you could have ten "first" chairs...mine would look something like this (subject to change)...

First chair songwriters....

Lennon/McCartney
Bruce Springsteen
Bob Dylan
John Fogerty
Elton John-Bernie Taupin
Justin Hayward/John Lodge
Leon Russell
Jackson Browne
Dan Fogelberg
John Prine
Fagen/Becker

How Did Don Draper Die?

2010-08-08T09:40:00.005-05:00

I love Mad Men. I haven't enjoyed a series on TV like this since "NYPD Blue". I think I cried when Sipowitz and the boys said goodbye. The characters in Mad Men are our parents. I remember when my mom wore her hair like that and smoked constantly. My dad wore his shirts like that and smoked and drank with the best of them. In fact, in historical comparison, I am about the same age as the little girl on the show. I probably would have "made a play" for her back then because she is kind of dark and brooding with a certain secretive nature. Yes, I thought about shit like that at that age. If you think about it, if Don Draper is somewhere in the vicinity of 32 (that's what I figured him to be in 1964), that means he was born in 1932, which would make him 78 today. I don't think he'd be around today because he led a very dangerous lifestyle then (smoking, drinking, cheating) and had a pretty difficult childhood. So, if he was 32 in 1964, I'm thinking he met his demise by natural causes in about 1994 or 95 (if it was smoking related cancer). That would have made him 62 or 63 when he died. That's pretty much in line with the national average of people who smoked more than two packs a day, and also in line with the family as my mom died at 62. If the smoking didn't kill him, the booze did at about 70, which means he died in 2002 of cirrhosis of the liver (one too many Canadian Clubs) . If the smoking and the boozing didn't get him, him being one of the biggest assholes on the planet (and a type A personality)lowered his life expectancy a great deal. If Betsy didn't kill him (as we join the story, she is living with someone else although the foundation to that relationship is crumbling), the jealous husband of one of his conquests probably waylayed him in a couple of years, which means he never made it to forty. Or, as future episodes will reveal, I could be wrong on all this. He could remarry a nice suburban girl who cared enough about him not to be an "enabler" (I don't think that word was in our lexicon back then) and straightened him up. But, what's the fun of that? With all of his baggage, the last thing I would expect him to do is straighten up his life. See, Don is the child of an alcoholic and he displays all of the behavioral signs. He's never happy and is always trying to destroy the things he loves. It's a classic alcoholic trait. Of course, he could fall so fast from the top that he ends up homeless and living under on overpass but I think the viewers would be disappointed. We are secretly rooting for Don because, somewhere in the corners of his psyche, the devil doesn't reside..I'm still waiting to see that place. I think he reminds us of the darkness in each of our parents. We always thought we knew about them and their lives, but we never knew much if anything at all. It will be interesting to see what happens. It is somewhat incongruous that I am living a bit of my early life through this show. My life was far from the "idyllic" lifestyle the Drapers lead. Being raised on a farm was so opposite of the suburban New York City life. But, I can see myself and my family in the characters on the show. Some of the hair styles for the women are spot on. The men seem to be the guys I saw on television back then (Darren Stephens, Larry Tate). I hope the writers don't cop a "Deadwood" attitude where David Milch said that they were "basically making it up as we went along" after the first season. You sure could tell. Cool, intriguing and full of surprises, "Mad Men" is about as sharp as it gets on TV. Doesn't hurt that Jon Hamm is a former listener. He told me once that I was a large part of his high school years along with everyone else at KSHE. How nice. Now, go get your life together (as much as you can with THAT childhood to go on)...Mad Men rules.

Incense and Peppermints

2010-08-06T22:20:00.003-05:00

I still love the smell of incense. Not sure why, but I hear the olfactory gland/sense is the most powerful one we have. It seems to take me back to stoned Saturday afternoons at the Curiosity Shoppe in downtown Davenport, The Church in downtown Moline or the various Co-Op Tapes and Records that dotted the Quad City area. After I got paid, I'd go to my favorite head shop and peruse the comics (loved R. Crumb) and the wondrous works of art that awaited me in the aisles of the latest album releases. Everything form The Carpenters to Root Boy Slim and the Sex Change Band was available and I would just dig the various album covers and the artworks they would become. It is one of my favorite memories. What am I burning now? Sandalwood, why of course. Musk and Jasmine are on the way. Posters? Oh, they're upstairs.

The Tapes

2010-08-01T19:27:00.002-05:00

As I am restructuring my life, a certain misfortune happened upon me about two months ago. I went out to wash my deck and not realizing that the "hydrant" inside my house had burst, I proceded to dump about 1000 gallons of water in my finished basement. After all the insurance has been hassled with and claims have been submitted, I am in the process of finding all of the stuff I have lost over the years. I have pictures of myself with Yoko. Esther and I went to Abbey Road in early 1994 and was given a tour by Alan Parsons. I can't find those pictures either, nor can I find the one with myself and Ozzy, a great one with me and BTO playing on my 30th birthday party, or the one with Steve Perry that I treasure. I did, while going through my brothers stuff, find a complaint levied against my dad, who, apparently assaulted some woman in downtown East Moline in July of 1946, which was right about the time he married my mother. I did find my very first show on KSHE, 6/10/85 on cassette tape. The tape is cranky and creaky and drags in the beginning but I think I can overcome that by playing it a lot. I also found a show with my mom also in 1985. I haven't played it yet. She was very funny and developed quite a following. After two days on the air with me, we announced that we were going to TGIFridays in south county to have an after dinner drink. The place was packed with fans of my mom and they bought her drinks all night. That was one of the coolest things that ever happened to me in teh biz. Mom ruled. As soon as I can get them ready to go, I'll have a special on www.planetradio.us and recreate the first day and "mom" day. From what I have heard on the tape, I was pretty damned good. Now, if I could only find those damn pictures. What other goodies await at my house?

July 2010

2010-07-30T21:59:00.002-05:00

I've been asked by a friend of mine to write more on the blog. He's thinking maybe a weekly update or something of the kind. Let's see what I can do. Hopefully, over the weekend, I'll be able to write some things down that at least make sense. I will ask myself only five questions, since I'm the mayor and I know me and I hate the press.
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Q. Randy, how's work and what is work these days?

I enjoy my work. It seems to be challenging and interesting. I feel part hall monitor, father, teacher, firefighter and therapist. I am the advertising director of Lee Enterprise's The Daily Journal in Park Hills, Mo along with weeklies Farmington Press and Fredericktown News Democrat directly overseeing a group of nine. Everyone of my nine are women, sans one. It makes for an interesting dynamic and with each department under a new stress level with more work being added on, it will be interesting and hopefully rewarding to walk them through this. Our technology is exploding and we can offer our clients so much more than just print. Would you like a course on Behavioral Targeting? I can send pre qualified, pre registered customers to my clients. When you sign on any search engine, it keeps information on where you go and develops a portrait of what you are looking for and where. With that info, I can send an ad from a car dealer directly to someone who's looking for a car. You've searched "mortgage" and when you come to my website, an ad for a mortgage guy will pop up. Unbelievable. This is all new. I can create a video ad to run on our website right from my desk. Want a demo? Call me. We are l journeying into uncharted waters and it's cool. But stressful. While learning this, my peeps must be out on the street, not in the conference room. So far, so good.
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Q. Randy, do you miss radio?

Desperately. And I probably always will. I would consider getting back into it, but I don't know if THAT job is available. It would have to be on air and with a side order of management thrown in. I don't think anyone is that stupid. I don't think radio misses me much, I don't think I'm what they're looking for in this PPM world. I have a secure vocation and it's the first time I've felt that way since right before I got fired the last time.

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Q. So how goes the internet station?

I have a small but loyal following of folks that listen all the time. I can go on the site that tells me where people are and there's always someone from Topeka and others all over the world that have this thing on. I've reached the point with it where someone is listening all the time. The numbers continue to creep up, slowly but surely. There's probably about 500 songs too many in there and we're getting ready for an update in a few weeks, so we'll be tweaking the tunes here and there. I really like the way it sounds. Hearing it plugged in the car is very cool and the sound is wonderful. On most days, I can get almost all the way to Park Hills and it'll drop out for a total of about six minutes. Other days, not so well. I find it refreshing that people dig this kind of radio. I knew there was something there.

Q. Do you believe in the "one that got away" theory?
yes.

Q. What do you mean yes and nothing else? Give me more.
I do believe, for what ever reason, the timing with certain individuals wasn't right. You moved away, they lost interest, they cheated, you cheated. There's only one I left behind. And that's five, thanks.

40 years ago...

2010-07-08T21:25:00.002-05:00

I found out a lot of things about myself by being on the farm and maybe that's why I have always been comfortable (and sometimes prefer) living alone. The summer of 1970 was one of the most frustrating times of my life. I turned 14 the previous February. When my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday I replied ..."to get the hell out of here." It made her cry. While my mother had a horrible life that led to her drinking herself to death, she cared deeply about her kids. She did the best she could, and let's leave it at that. I lived about 4 miles outside of Ava Mo. I never had a problem with Ava per se, it's actually kinds comfortable to go back there once in a while, it was just that Ava was in the middle of....nowhere. Kids were being killed at college, my brother was off fighting in some stupid engagement I never quite got (and still don't), the Woodstock generation was going on all over the country, everywhere, it seemed, things were happening and the world was exploding, everywhere but where I was. Things were exploding in my family too, as my brother had his heartbroken and I was wondering why in the hell my parents were living apart and I was stuck in the sticks with my grandparents, mother and sister. I spent the summer as far away from there as I could by just walking creeks (starting at one point and walking as far as you can, then turning around). I would routinely take my backpack with my tent, cooking supplies and an innertube and just walk and float for days. The radio was one of the things that got me through all of that, it was my window to the world to hear what Chicago, Little Rock, Denver, Nashville and other far away places sounded like. I liked it. Those guys on teh radio told me stories, made me laugh, think and sometimes cry over the 14 second intro of a song. I could even get the far away stations under the tent on the creeks with my transistor. That is, until the batteries would wear out.
Here are some of the songs of that summer that filled my life with joy...
The Billboard top 15 from Independence Day 1970...

1. Close to You-Carpenters (guilty pleasure, still love their music)
2. Make It With You-Bread (fell in love over this song...didn't last)
3. Mama Told Me -3 Dog Night(the song of the summer)
4. Band of Gold-Freda Payne (soul music at its finest)
5. Signed Sealed Delivered-Stevie Wonder (see above)
6. The Love You Save-Jackson Five (see above)
7. Spill The Wine-War (great song)
8. Ball of Confusion-Temptations (still relevant after all this time)
9. Tighter Tighter-Alive and Kickin (not a better one hit wonder ever)
10.Oooh Child-Five Stairsteps(another wonderful soulful song)

This was also the summer of Crosby Stills Nash and Young. I heard Ohio on the radio and went to the store to buy Deja Vu, thinking Ohio was on it. It wasn't and I wasn't happy. It has since become one of the most influential albums of my life. The summer of Suzie Gregg. If I ever get a time machine, this won't be a destination.

Back In The Saddle

2010-07-08T21:09:00.002-05:00

I have talked to two or three people in the last week that wondered why I quit writing my blog. I really did not have an adequate answer other than the usual..."well, I've been really busy lately..."and then their reply was..."so you weren't then?" Good point. I know I've said it before but I am truly going to try and do this regularly. At one time, I had almost two hundred people coming here every day. Maybe this is where I test out my novelistic capabilities as I am writing the story of my life. It is a pretty interesting story but in order for it have the "it" factor, I must do what a lot of great writers do. Write it in the third person and embellish. I really don't have a problem with that, it would be up to the reader to figure out what's real and what is an illusion. A story of sex, drugs and rock and roll from the point of view from a guy who was lucky enough to land at a number of legendary rock and roll stations. I did a lot of drugs, made love to many beautiful women and was a part of two major cities rock and roll scene. I remember working in (of all places) Muscatine, Iowa and asking on the air which party had the hottest unattached women and damn straight, I got the answer. All this from a kid who would lock himself in his room every night just to keep my sanity. A life many have dreamed about but I have lived. Sex, drugs and rock and roll indeed. Once written, someone takes it, turns it into a screenplay and Showtime picks it up. Too racy for network TV, but just perfect for HBO or Showtime.

Richard Ward Fatherly

2010-03-09T00:16:00.000-06:00

R I P

Planetradio.us Manifesto

2010-02-10T21:49:00.003-06:00

I thought I would spend a minute or two on what has become my latest plan for world domination. When I set up my planetradio.us facebook page, I invited a number of my friends and family to check out what I was doing, and being that facebook is the next big thing happening now, I figured I'd give the whole "social networking" thing a shot. I don't think what this was about was evident. The station has over 500 fans, but I wonder if many are aware of what we are actually doing. To help you and me, I will approach this in a journalistic manner....

Who? Me, I guess, and Mike too. I was in the radio business for approximately 33 years, 4 months and 23 days, but who's counting (this picture being taken at my last stop)? Most of my experiences were in "AOR", which stood for Album Oriented Radio. I started in Muscatine Iowa for a station that was a dream to work for. No play list, but we had to keep it relatively familiar. I guess it spoiled me, because later in my career, I always wondered why we didn't play a wider variety of music and that philosophy cost me a job or two. The consultants will tell you that you have to play the hits, one philosophy that I believe, but the constant repetition has killed classic rock and especially oldies radio. Anyway, leaving Muscatine for the Quad Cities and doing mornings on the real first rock station there WXLP, I moved to Kansas City to take the night shift to a number one ranking at the legendary KY 102 from 1979-1981. I moved to afternoons in 1981 and then moved to St. Louis in 1985 to helm the afternoon show at KSHE. I was number one in my demo for about 13 years. I left KSHE to be a part of their stiffest competition ever 97.1, The Rock! After KSHE bought us, and fired me, I spent 40 days wondering around in the desert, moving from Kansas City to Nashville, Bloomington Illinois, Springfield Mo and finally back here. I have been a programmer, consultant and market manager. I only say that to qualify my experience and knowledge of the format

Mike Batchelor has been a part of the St. Louis radio scene for a long time and is now getting into station management. I told Mike what I wanted and he provided it for me. I recommend him highly if you are considering this.

What? It's a radio station on the internet that Mike and I have taken total responsiblity for. I am the programming genius and he is the technical brawn. It's available at www.planetradio.us
I have attempted to carve out a niche for intelligent, knowledgeable rock listeners. The people who were not only followers, but fanatics. I think this station has a certain style and class. I think it's the intelligent alternative to the dribble that is on the radio now. We have 4,146 songs in the system and 413 unique artists. I'm almost done with the music, I'm just filling holes at this time. You'll hear everything from Bread to Judas Priest, from Gordon Lightfoot to Black Sabbath and let's not forget Cat Stevens did other songs than "Wild World" and "Peace Train". But if you were to ask me what artist most represents this station, I would say Steely Dan, The Beatles and Bruce Springsteen. We are easy to receive, just go to the website and follow the directions.

When? We signed on about a month ago and I really didn't think we'd be "public ready" until March. I like what I hear so far, but fine tuning is a never ending ordeal. We're on 24/7 365 unless technical difficulties (I lose the wireless signal). I find there are more people listening overnight than I expected. (Yes, I can track that).

Where? It originates out of my office in beautiful Kirkwood, Missouri. I have people listening as far away as Australia and Belgium. The word is slowly but surely spreading.

Why? I felt that there was a need for a wide play list full of intelligent music whether that music is played by Jackson Browne or Blue Oyster Cult. I grew up in a time where you could hear The Carpenters and Alice Copper back to back. I just wonder why we still can't do that. It's all good music. We have the hits here, but we also have the complete soundtrack to a generation of knowledgeable, passionate rock fans who want more from their radio. It is literally all here.

Planetradio.us mission statement:.."to provide the planet with the best sounding, most intelligent, widest variety of classic rock music available anywhere".

www.planetradio.us

Picture Time

2009-12-23T12:50:00.002-06:00

The Words of Shakespeare

2009-12-23T12:08:00.003-06:00

I was in my hometown's local grocery store last night picking up some consumables and the new book about KSHE caught my eye. It's funny, even yesterday, someone said to me..."aren't you the Randy Raley from KSHE?" It's been almost twelve years since I left there, and STILL, to this day, that added phrase has seemingly become my last name. I spent a great 13 years at Real Rock Radio. Not all of the time was good. The physical confrontation I had with a drunk superior after he kept repeatingly sticking his finger in my chest wasn't fun. And, when I left, getting a urine and feces soaked headshot in the mail was not fun, especially after having opened it in front of my daughter. Her comment was..."wow, somebody really hates you, don't they dad?" It didn't end well would be an understatement. I made mistakes that, knowing what I do now, I probably wouldn't make again. But still, it seems to me that if JC Corcoran and all his baggage could make it back there, then what was their problem with me? A few years ago, I got a call from the program director there. It seems that they were putting together a "Hall of Fame" portion on their website and would I be willing to donate some items? Sure. How much fun is that? So,I drug a couple of milk crates full of stuff and they were returned in fine shape after being scanned. Not too long after that, I heard that KSHE was having this big 40th reunion with all the old jocks joining Sammy Hagar on stage at The Fox. I kept waiting for my invitation which, sadly, never materialized. I guess my stuff was good enough to be included in their Hall of Fame, but I wasn't good enough to have one last 10 seconds of glory when they call your name and the crowd cheers your work. No dice. I guess what happened at the end erased the 13 years of working my ass off. So, having not been invited to the party, I stopped taking stuff for them to use, which gets me back to the original point. While flipping through this new book, I noticed that nowhere was my name mentioned in the book. They had everyone else but me. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be in the book because I never heard from the author, but my ego took a huge fall when that fact was confimred. During my time there, I was the ONLY person to top KMOX in the 12+ ratings. In the spring of 1986, I had a 13.6 rating, KMOX had a 13.3. I was number one or two(25-54 adults)in the market for a nine year consecutive run. I still hold rating records and yet, it's as if I never existed there. Why the cold shoulder KSHE? I gave you the best years of my life. Now everyone who's ever pissed any one off over there returned (JC, Woody), but I can't even get my calls returned. It was once a family. My family. Now, we are all estranged with NO hope of ever even being civil. Grudges are easy to hold and hard to let go. I won't say it doesn't bother me, obviously, it does. But, with writing all of this down, it lets it all go. Shakespeare once said .."living well is the best revenge.." I must have the greatest revenge ever. I haven't been this happy in years. So...Emmis, what gives? It's true pride goes before the fall. Now, radio is in the worst shape ever, Emmis is struggling and cuts are being made(or will be made)everywhere. The Chicago stations are being run from St. Louis (which the Chicago people REALLY love)and there's trouble everywhere. Thank God I'm away from that, and my ego would like to think it's karma. It's just bad management.

Deaths in Threes

2009-12-22T16:09:00.006-06:00

Arnold Stang

Arnold Stang, voice of several favorite cartoon animated figures including Top Cat has died at age 91. Stang was a staple for several animated features in the 1960’s and starred as comic relief in any number of movies with stars like Milton Berle and even Frank Sinatra. He was also the voice of one of Popeye’s sidekicks “Shorty”. He reportedly succumbed to complications from pneumonia in a Massachusetts Hospital on Sunday.
This writer remembers Stang best from his role in the film “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World ” from 1963, which any of us “Boomers” saw more than once. As for Hanna-Barbera’s Top Cat, this was once of my favorite cartoons, but I never actually knew who did the voice of the too cool cat. Interestingly Arnold Stang starred in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s first film Hercules In New York in 1970. Stang is survived by his wife JoAnne, to whom he was married for over 60 years, as well as their two children. We are sure he will be sorely missed, as it takes a special person to be the one behind such well loved characters.

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Connie Hines
BEVERLY HILLS, Calif.—Actress Connie Hines, who played Wilbur's wife on the popular 1960s television show "Mister Ed" has died. She was 79. Her "Mister Ed" co-star Alan Young told the Los Angeles Times that Hines died Friday at her Beverly Hills home from complications of heart problems. Hines was best known for portraying Carol Post on the show that featured a talking horse. She wrote a book in 2007 entitled "Mister Ed and Me and More." Born in Massachusetts, Hines also appeared in the 1960 film "Thunder in Carolina" and such TV shows as "The Millionaire," "Johnny Ringo" and "Riverboat." Hines was married twice, the last to Lee Savin, an entertainment lawyer and producer. Savin died in 1995. A lovely woman who was, vicariously, a part of my childhood. I got to meet her in 1984 and she was as beautiful then as I remember in childhood fantasies.

Alaina Reed-Amini

Actress Alaina Reed-Amini, best known for her long-running roles as Olivia Robinson on the children's program "Sesame Street" and Rose Lee Holloway on the comedy "227," has died.
Reed-Amini lost a two-year battle with breast cancer at St. John's Medical Center in Santa Monica, California, on Thursday, according to reports.
Reed-Amini, who changed her named from Alaina Reed Hall after she married Tamim Amini in 2008, turned 63 last month. In 1976 she joined the cast of "Sesame Street" as Olivia, a professional photographer and the kid sister of Gordon the teacher. She left the program in 1988 for a role on the NBC sitcom "227."
The actress married her "227" co-star Kevin Peter Hall in 1988. With art imitating life, their characters were married in the final season of the show in 1990. Hall died in 1991 from complications from the AIDS virus that he acquired through a blood transfusion.
Her stage credits include productions of "Chicago" and "Hair." She also appeared in the inspirational one-woman show "Alaina at the Bijou."
Her movie credits include "Cruel Intentions" and "Death Becomes Her." She guest-starred on television shows such as "ER," "NYPD Blue," "The Drew Carey Show" and "Ally McBeal."
Reed-Amini is survived by her husband and two children from her marriage to Hall.

Sorry to see her pass. Who didn't have Olivia in some way as a part of their past? Those who watched Sesame Street as a kid, and those who had kids who watched the show. Say hey to Jim Henson

Hello Blogosphere

2009-12-22T13:39:00.003-06:00

Wow, Christmas is upon us already. Each year, I try to get into the spirit early and often but this year, like last year, I am late to the party. Don't know why, but I'm just starting to feel the Christmas spirit now. I am reading at Christmas Eve mass at church again. I am proud they ask me to read God's word on the most important day of the year. The boy is home, looking well and rested. I am so very proud of him. In Captain's school, he is the youngest by far. Although mama can't understand why he is going back early, I know and her name is Lauren. This is about time that the women trade places in his life. he'll always love his mother but someone new has his heart, as it should be.
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A few snags on the internet station but we still should be up and going on the first. I have to go back and rename all of the tunes that weren't "renamed" before. I guess when I cleaned up the titles, I only changed the "outside" names of the mp3's, not the "code" name. So, I have a downloaded program that allows me to do just that. I have the scheduler ready to schedule and I will network the program that actually "plays" the songs with what is scheduled sometime later tonight. If Dr. Frankenschteen's machine doesn't blow up, this should be pre launch test number number one. Here's a new graphc design from someone I don't even know. (Thank you).

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I was doing some thinking in the suana last night after basketball while listening to "She's The One" by Bruce. AS we go through life, there are certain things we NEED. Food, shelter, etc. But when it comes to music, I think the same thing holds true. When I was 19, I NEEDED "Born to Run" and "Night Moves". At 22, I NEEDED "City to City" by Gerry Rafferty. I needed to hear "The Pretender", "Reminiscing","Every Kinda People", Dan Fogelberg, etc. That's when the power and the glory of what God has created when it comes to music is certainly and sorely needed in our lives. I'm sure there are those releases in your life that have done the same for you. God bless all of those composers, writers and players who affect our lives and know our works better than we do. "Save Your Love" by the Jefferson Starship just popped into my head. I needed that one in 1982.

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Wow, what a team of sellers I have. At this moment, we are sitting at 110% of goal for the month and for the quarter, it's 102.6%. According to the publisher, this hasn't happened for at least three years. And we still have a day and a half to wrap it up. How high can we go? And yes, I get a bonus. Enough to take my staff out for dinner. On me. The one thing about my business is that once December is over, we start at zero and wind it all again.

Longevity Rules with Bob

2009-12-16T15:31:00.002-06:00

BOB SEGER's Greatest Hits is officially the decade's best-selling catalog album in the U.S., it has been confirmed by NIELSEN SOUNDSCAN. Since its 1994 debut, SEGER's Greatest Hits has sold close to nine million copies and enjoyed an unbroken two-year streak on the BILLBOARD Top 200 before moving to the upper reaches of the Catalog Albums chart for 660 weeks.
SEGER is a GRAMMY AWARD-winning ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME member, with more than 50 million career-spanning album sales, as well as 11 platinum and seven multi-platinum RIAA-certified album sales awards. SEGER's Against The Wind, Night Moves, Stranger In Town, and Live Bullet have been RIAA-certified for more than five million U.S. album sales each.

Lint Off My Cuff

2009-12-16T13:02:00.004-06:00

As of this morning, my peeps are at 100.4 percent of their December goal. Working hard, playing hard. If they get to 105%, I have made a deal to take them all to dinner. Oy! With what I would get at a 105% rate, I'll come out ahead on the deal and by a lot. Congrats to some of the hardest working people I know. Proud of you.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------The internet station is coming along. I am in ripping and cleaning up titles mode. I have to put a "tone" on the end of every song I want so that the next element will fire in a timely and flowing manner. Hopefully, I'll get it playing this weekend and then the weekend of the first, we should have a rudimentary 1.0 version of the station up and running. I hope March 1st date for the launch will be doable. The domain is set and ready http://www.planetradio.us/ . The sweepers will say "Planet Radio US, the best rock on Earth." Always loved the name planet radio and was bummed when the station in KC had to jettison it. It's available, so I grabbed it. Here is what I want the logo to look like:

but, obviously, I can't use that. very cool though, no?

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Here's a lost oldie but goodie....and a taste of the kind of stuff you'll hear on the station....

Finally, too much make up pancake or nose in the candy jar again?

Now, This Is Funny

2009-12-16T13:01:00.002-06:00

Jacksonville/Houston game during a time out. It will never go away.

Hey Jude Simplified

2009-12-11T10:06:00.002-06:00

thanks to my friend matt.

Wrap Season

2009-12-09T14:07:00.004-06:00

When I was in kindergarten or first grade, I had a teacher that always used the word "wrap" as a synonym for coats. "Please take your wraps off when you enter the classroom." I never heard anyone else use that term until today in the office, one of my peeps said something about not wearing a "wrap" today. Tomorrow will be the first day of the season that I will wear a "wrap". I actually enjoy all of the seasons and really couldn't imagine living somewhere that doesn't have winter. (OK, maybe I can). When I got to the Y yesterday morning, the woman at the desk asked where my coat was. I answered the way I normally do..."Hey, I grew up in Iowa...you know what we call this weather in Iowa? Summer!" Hahahahaha. Well, what's happened in Iowa the past couple of days has been record setting. Maybe one of the largest snow storms ever has passed through the state. That's diffucult to believe because in the winter of 78-79, it snowed. A lot. Over and over again. That must have been some snowstorm that just went through there.
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The Tiger Woods story just gets worse and worse for this guy. I don't feel sorry for him in any way shape or form but I have NEVER witnessed a fall from glory so weird and quick. This guy had it all, a billion dollar fortune, maybe the most recognized man on the planet, an absolutely capitivating and beautiful wife and...it wasn't enough. Was it the thrill of the hunt? Was it the knowledge and power that he could have sex with whomever he pleased? The count is now in double digits and the possiblity that one of his paramours video taped them having sex. Were these women providing him with all the things his wife didn't? Shouldn't he have known that before he married her? Now, there are reports that there might be kids out there he doesn't know of? Ick and ew. One month ago today, he was hailed as one of the best ever. Now, he's the butt of jokes and is watching his character and legacy slip away like sand through his fingers. I really am not at all interested in this anymore, I bring ot up only to point out how fast and quickly the house of cards can fall. And hard. I could NEVER pull this off. I don't lie very well.
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I am looking to get out a lot more this next summer and enjoy the camping life. Not like my sister does it, basically taking everything with her (and that's OK). I'll take a tent, some Coleman gear and a sleeping bag. Out hiking through the woods all day and back to the campground for grub and night time fun. I have plotted out two places here in teh Parkland. St. Francois State Park and St. Joe State Park seem to have the best facilities around here. Can't wait to be unwashed again.

randy's lost classic:

Sad Cafe "Run Home Girl"

I remember playing this song and this band at 97x in Davenport, somewhere around January-February 1979. This always sounded like Toto. Loved the cool vibe and sax solo in the middle. They also did a song called "Restless" that I loved too. Can't find a video though.

here's their wikipedia entry:

link

Wha' Happened?

2009-12-08T16:31:00.004-06:00

How did this..........................................................................turn into this? Yech!

It Was 29 Years ago Today....

2009-12-08T12:23:00.004-06:00

...that John Lennon was murdered in the street in front of his residence at the Dakota Apartments in New York City. I had just gotten off the air at KY 102 and was at home with my girlfriend. I had just taken the dog out to do his thing. Bree had made a lovely dinner for me and even at the late hour of 10pm, we usually spent that time together eating and chatting about the day. As I was bringing the dog back in, I looked ahead and saw her weeping uncontrollably. What was the matter? What had happened in the time I had taken to the dog out? Heck, it wasn't even ten minutes... She pointed at the television when Howard Cosell said those infamous words..."it has been confirmed John Lennon has been shot and was enroute to a New York City hospital..." Holy cow, NOT John Lennon, not THIS way, I consoled her and said it would be ok, we don't know the extent of the injuries. I immediately called the radio station, where Jon Hart answered the phone. He knew, he said and was monitoring all the news services and was looking for information. I knew, whatever happened, that Jon was the guy to have on the air, one of the very few people that was as big of a Beatles fan as I was. Then, it happened. Howard again..."this just in, John Lennon has died of his injuries as a result of a gun shot wound suffered earlier this evening." Howard was speechless after that and I was too. At that time, the radio station was playing a Led Zeppelin A-Z tribute because Robert Plant earlier in the week disbanded the band after John Bonham drank himself to death. That was stopped quickly and we went all Beatles all the time. NOT John Lennon, NOT after he had disappeared from public view and not NOW. John looked happy and healthy and ready to take on the world again. NO! IT CAN'T BE HIM!!! Not with him releasing one of the most important come back recordings ever. With Jon Hart handling the tunes very deftly, all Bree and I could do was hold each other close and cry. We made sweet love and then went to sleep, emotionally exhausted. The next night, on the air, I cried. I had never done that before and have done it only one time since. I didn't know what to say after everything had been said. There was no internet and not many people had cable, so this was basically one of the only outlets we had. I opened up the lines to anyone who had anything to say about anything. It turned out to be one of my most unforgettable shows, one where I did next to nothing but field phone calls. The people were heart broken; they turned to their local station and talked, talked some more and cried, cried some more and talked more. It was the most incredible out pouring of love and grief at the same time that I have ever been a part of. One of the callers was the local pastor at the All Souls Unitarian Church announcing that there would be a candlelight ceremony on Wednesday. Would I be interested in saying a few words and being a part of the ceremony? There was no hesitation. On Wednesday, Bree and I made our way through a completely filled church and I got up and talked about John and what he meant to an entire generation's culture. John and the rest of the Beatles not only affected music but also shaped a culture where this generation cut it's teeth. When the Beatles wore their hair long, so did we. When the Beatles said "All You Need Is Love", we believed it. I did a 30 minute eulogy without notes. Something was guiding what I said like never before and the fitting words fell off my tongue like they were placed there days before. It was so easy to talk about someone who you thought you knew as well as you did the members of your family. I remember thinking how cold it was that day and how I longed for a time that we could sing "Here Comes The Sun" after a long, cold lonely winter. That winter was particularly cold and lonely, even with the love of one of the most beautiful women to walk the planet. The world became a meaner place and I felt that I aged much more than my 24 years would attest. A part of me was gone, a bit of innocence lost. There would be no Beatles reunion. Not in this world anyway. 16 years after that, I spoke to Yoko in a hotel room and in probably one of my worst interviews, we talked about John's artwork. We played the song "Just Like Starting Over" and she stopped the interview. It was STILL too soon for her and the song still hit her hard. I heard "I'm Losing You" in the sauna last night and my mind was directed to 29 years ago in those palpable moments when all was well in the world. I was in love and life was good. It took Howard Cosell and a madman named Mark David Chapman to change it all forever. Bree has passed (killed in a car accident) and sometimes, I still go back there, the minutes before I heard the news today..oh boy.

..."we all shine on, like the moon and the stars and the sun..."

Bree and Me on Wednesday, December 10 1980

Cold, Colder, Coldest

2009-12-07T15:59:00.002-06:00

Northern Lights Over Teepees. I think this would be a blast. A cold one at that.

THIS IS A FIRE RAINBOW (below) - THE RAREST OF ALL NATURALLY OCCURRING ATMOSPHERIC PHENOMENA. THE PICTURE WAS CAPTURED ON THE IDAHO / WASHINGTON BORDER. THE EVENT LASTED ABOUT 1 HOUR.

CLOUDS HAVE TO BE CIRRUS, AT LEAST 20K FEET IN THE AIR, WITH JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF ICE CRYSTALS AND THE SUN HAS TO HIT THE CLOUDS AT PRECISELY 58 DEGREES.

Dude.

2009-12-01T20:07:00.004-06:00

It all began with Whore Zero, Rachel Uchitel, who has repeatedly denied any affair with Woods. And yet…Rachel has offered little explanation about how she ended up in Australia at the same time and at the same hotel as Tiger just weeks ago.
Now there’s this from Us Weekly…
A Los Angeles cocktail waitress says she had a steamy 31-month fling with Tiger Woods and has a voicemail recording and text messages to prove it.
Jaimee Grubbs, now 24, says she began having an affair with Woods, 33, in April 2007.
…they went on to have 20 sexual encounters.
And this from Radar Online…Several other women are coming forward claiming they had affairs with Tiger Woods. I think it’s safe to say he didn’t think this all the way through. He’s maybe the most famous person on earth. Of course he got caught. The Statue of Liberty could go buy some weed and have a better chance at getting away with it than he did.

This is what he had at home....dude, seriously

Roger Dean album covers

2009-12-01T19:40:00.003-06:00

I made a remark on Facebook about how James Cameron must have spent a lot of time looking at Yes album covers when it came to making his movie. I swear in the trailers for Avatar I see Roger Dean album covers for scenery. Here's a great collection of Roger Dean album covers....

Link

New Facebook Friend

2009-11-30T14:04:00.002-06:00

Yeah, I know this Facebook thing is
a)for weirdos
b)an extreme waste of time
c)maybe not for you or
d)all of the above.

I have entered into a conversation with a guy who I have admired for many years. Andy Fraser was the bass player for Free and his basic, big badass bass was perfect for what they did. The back beat on "Mr. Big" was worth the price of admission alone. He co wrote and produced "All Right Now' which I have played a couple of thousand times on the radio and never tired of it. After leaving Free, Andy formed Sharks and again, I really liked his work. The crux of the biscuit however is that Andy wrote "Every Kinda People" for Robert Palmer. "Every Kinda People" rates as one of my top five all time recordings and sums up how I feel and has since the first time I heard in the summer of 1978.
"There is no profit in deceit, an honest man knows that revenge does not taste sweet"
Man, that's it, right there. Powerful lyrics that have enriched my life and moved my soul. THAT'S what music is all about.

Here is Andy's latest project:
Thanks Randy ~
Check out my latest project. I’ve contributed the song ~ This Is The Big One ~ as a worldwide copyright free download. I’m asking fellow activists to upload videos or pictures to the song, post on YouTube.com to win prizes.

Come on and Make A Difference ~ Andy

And now, here is some of that filthy bass I told you about...

And now, Mr. Palmer

Randy's Top 100

2009-11-27T09:53:00.004-06:00

Hi, I'm back and let's continue the countdown...checking in somewhere in the 20-25 on the top 100 would be this treat from the summer of 1975.

Here is one that changed the way I looked at music. I first heard "Becuase We've Ended As Lovers" during a visit to a head shop in the spring. It was love at first sight. The crying guitar provided by Jeff was just stunning. It was one of the most powerful instrumentals ever. It still is.

The young woman (Tal Wikenfield) kicks my ass...

That song alone would put this in the top 100, but there was so much more great music on the record and not ONE vocal. Songs from Lennon-McCartney ("She's A Woman"), Stevie Wonder ("Cause We've Ended As Lovers", "Thelonius") and Bernie Holland (the incredible "Diamond Dust") and Beck's own stuff ("Scatterbrain, "You Know What I Mean"). The record reminds me of living in a little bitty house along the Mississippi during a summer when I didn't have air conditioning, driving my little Honda 350 motorcycle and trying to get through a very unhappy marriage. This is one release that helped me survive. It's stayed close to my playlist for the next 34 years. Something to be said for great music.

Scatterbrain

Freeway Jam

It Is What It Is..Unless It Isn't

2009-11-27T08:42:00.003-06:00

While having dinner on Wednesday night with a friend of mine, we got into a discussion about how we "made it". We have somehow crossed an imaginary demarcation line when it comes to the length of our age. I have blogged about this before, in a seemingly deja vuish conversation I had with someone else about three yeras ago. I must admit, I feel more like I've "made it" than I did three years ago. I am in a pretty good place right now. I have a job I find challenging and stimulating. I drive an hour each way (against the traffic) and find that hour a buffer between work and home. Ramping up on the way and decompressing on the way home. My health is good and I feel better than I have for a long time. The weight loss is slow and painful but I knew it would be. It seems as I get older, it becomes more of a burden to take it off. I can still run as fast as I can for as long as I can and that beats a majority of people my age. My kids, seemingingly, are in a good place. They all seem to be if not happy, then at least content. I have many things to be thankful for but, in the back of my mind, I find it hard to let go of the fact that it will all go incredibly wrong very soon. I keep looking over my shoulder for the grim reaper. I keep walking careful footsteps at work to make sure I am giving them the best I have. But, it's still not enough to get rid of this burnt patch in my head. Why? Could it be radio paranoia? That can be described as the feeling that no matter what you do, or how well you do your job, you're just a number and can be jettisoned at any time. It's happened so many times to me in the recent past. My boss likes and respects me, asks for my opinion and (gasp)actually uses it. Or, could it be something deeper? I am the adult child of an alcoholic. We're not supposed to be happy and we will sabatage any attempt to try. It's a struggle that has cost me many important people in my life. Just as things go well, we think of little nuclear devises to throw under our own wheels. We can't identify happiness and when we do, we run. We've never been truly happy so how do we know how to act? Countless therapy sessions have given me the opportunity to recognize and hopefully prepare. No matter how vigilant, now matter how ready, the feeling of inadequency will never cease to be a part of my psyche. Wish me luck. This time, it will be different. I seem to be approaching the autumn of my life with great strength, sound mind and finally grasping the concept of being content. What a great word. Contentment. I'm closer than I have been in a while. Wish me luck. Again.

The Beatles circa 3000

2009-11-27T08:05:00.002-06:00

Makes me wonder how correct we are with the things we discover about the past. The Shroud of Turin comes to mind. I wonder if someone is looking down and saying ..."you ignorant fools" or if it is indeed, the shroud of Christ. Anyway, thanks to my freind Guido Toledo for putting this on his facebook site.

the music must change, i guess

2009-11-13T20:25:00.002-06:00

I have brought up this point and have had many conversations with friends and colleagues about what happened to rock music. It died a slow death but die it did and that's too bad. Here's one theory I have entertained about what happened. Many years ago, a number of different parts of the country provided their own culture and take on what was defined as "rock and roll" music. Let's start on the east coast with Billy Joel, Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Steely Dan, Leonard Cohen, Aerosmith and the like. Heading down I95, we go to Florida and Georgia, home of Skynyrd, Tom Petty, Marshall Tucker and of course, the Allman Brothers. West to Texas and ZZ Top, Jerry Jeff, Stevie Ray along with many others. LA gave us Poco, CSNY, Eagles and all the laid back, country rock feel. San Francisco needs no introduction, the list of bands from there is as long as your arm. Let's not forget the midwest, home of Bob Seger, John Mellencamp, Cheap Trick, Prince, and on. Now, it seems all of the good songwriters are located in one city....Nashville. Pop has gone country and country has gone pop. Taylor Swift is Marie Osmond, Lady Antebellum is Fleetwood Mac, Tim McGraw is Bob Seger, Keith Urban is Bryan Adams(but a better guitar player)and on it goes. I'm just waiting for someone to channel Jim Morrison. That should be fun. It's coming, you know it is.

lady antebellum

2009-11-12T21:14:00.003-06:00

one of the nice things about working bloomington was hearing different music. while running the country station there, lady antebellum caught my ear. this song confirms something i thought a year and a half ago...these guys are the country equivalent to fleetwood mac, only in reverse. mac had stevie, lindsay and christine, and these guys have two guys and a woman. listen to this and tell me you don't hear fleetwood mac. love this tune and if you are going to sound like someone, you couldn't have picked a better band. speaking of fleetwood mac...now that i don't play their music every hour of every day, i have become a huge fan of the self titled lp with "landslide" and "over my head" and all the rest. i don't think they were better than this, although "rumours" proves me wrong...

Leonard Cohen and All Things Musical

2009-11-09T18:39:00.003-06:00

What an incredible piece of acoustic archetecture we have in St. Louis. It's called the Fox Theatre. Closed for many years, re opened in 1982 and the grand jewel of concert venues in my life. (Red Rocks ranks a close second). To see an artist like Leonard Cohen, at a place like that, to thouroughly get in the mood, you must be a bit imbibed. Whatever poison you choose is up to you. On Saturday night, since I wasn't driving, I chose top shelf margaritas from a very non descript restaurant that has food and drinks that are good and cheap. One of my best music buds, Corky, a gentlemen I have known since 1980, is a guy that will drive to Salina Kansas and back overnight to see Dylan. "I have an extra Leonard Cohen ticket" was all it took. Arriving at the Fox just as the music started, the next three hours was quite a treat. Now, I am not that familar with his music, but getting to see a living legend before he dies was just too much temptation. So, during my commute from work and back, I prepped with two Leonard CDs and I was ready. Wow. The band was clean and tight. The kind of guys that are first class, first rate players. The mood I arrived in was perfect, the seats were great and the music was played with style and class. Sweet. While getting my tickets for Leonard, I purchased 6th row seats for Mark Knopfler. I have never seen him play live. It's in April, I just wanted to make sure I'm ready
.....................................................................................

Righteously bummed about someone using Roxy Music's "More Than This" in a commercial. Talk about playing your craft with style and grace. Why should I be surprised that one of the greatest albums to make love to would produce a commercial for a credit card in my lifetime. I stopped being irate years ago. But, that is another band I'd pay dearly to see one last time.
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So, Steven Tyler quit Aerosmith, not telling anyone and not returning eamils and phone calls? Yeah, I'd be done too if I knew the best music I ever made was done stinking fucked up? Ever since this band got straight, they should have made two records and called it a day. They have been phoning it in for awhile now, and until "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" I had a tad bit of respect for them because, at one time, they may have been the best band in America. Not for the last 35 years. After "Rocks" it was done. Doesn't need the money, every night on the road for probably 40 years...yep, I'd be out too. And you'd never hear from me again. Unless "The Muppet Show" called, they would be the only people. Thanks Steven, for the first four records, they were fun and I'll put them up against any band's best four. Meh.

One of the Best Editing Jobs Ever, You've Been Rick Rolled

2009-11-05T20:58:00.000-06:00

How to Be A Server

2009-11-04T16:06:00.002-06:00

Waiting tables is tough work, no question. It can be a drag or it can be great. I have waited a few tables in my day and I got this from the New York Times Small Business section (what the heck am I doing reading the Times?)
Here are fifty things you can do to be a better server and I tip accordingly.

1. Do not let anyone enter the restaurant without a warm greeting.
2. Do not make a singleton feel bad. Do not say, “Are you waiting for someone?” Ask for a reservation. Ask if he or she would like to sit at the bar.
3. Never refuse to seat three guests because a fourth has not yet arrived.
4. If a table is not ready within a reasonable length of time, offer a free drink and/or amuse-bouche. The guests may be tired and hungry and thirsty, and they did everything right.
5. Tables should be level without anyone asking. Fix it before guests are seated.
6. Do not lead the witness with, “Bottled water or just tap?” Both are fine. Remain neutral.
7. Do not announce your name. No jokes, no flirting, no cuteness.
8. Do not interrupt a conversation. For any reason. Especially not to recite specials. Wait for the right moment.
9. Do not recite the specials too fast or robotically or dramatically. It is not a soliloquy. This is not an audition.
10. Do not inject your personal favorites when explaining the specials.
11. Do not hustle the lobsters. That is, do not say, “We only have two lobsters left.” Even if there are only two lobsters left.
12. Do not touch the rim of a water glass. Or any other glass.
13. Handle wine glasses by their stems and silverware by the handles.
14. When you ask, “How’s everything?” or “How was the meal?” listen to the answer and fix whatever is not right.
15. Never say “I don’t know” to any question without following with, “I’ll find out.”
16. If someone requests more sauce or gravy or cheese, bring a side dish of same. No pouring. Let them help themselves.
17. Do not take an empty plate from one guest while others are still eating the same course. Wait, wait, wait.
18. Know before approaching a table who has ordered what. Do not ask, “Who’s having the shrimp?”
19. Offer guests butter and/or olive oil with their bread.
20. Never refuse to substitute one vegetable for another.
21. Never serve anything that looks creepy or runny or wrong.
22. If someone is unsure about a wine choice, help him. That might mean sending someone else to the table or offering a taste or two.
23. If someone likes a wine, steam the label off the bottle and give it to the guest with the bill. It has the year, the vintner, the importer, etc.
24. Never use the same glass for a second drink.
25. Make sure the glasses are clean. Inspect them before placing them on the table.
26. Never assume people want their white wine in an ice bucket. Inquire.
27. For red wine, ask if the guests want to pour their own or prefer the waiter to pour.
28. Do not put your hands all over the spout of a wine bottle while removing the cork.
29. Do not pop a champagne cork. Remove it quietly, gracefully. The less noise the better.
30. Never let the wine bottle touch the glass into which you are pouring. No one wants to drink the dust or dirt from the bottle.
31. Never remove a plate full of food without asking what went wrong. Obviously, something went wrong.
32. Never touch a customer. No excuses. Do not do it. Do not brush them, move them, wipe them or dust them.
33. Do not bang into chairs or tables when passing by.
34. Do not have a personal conversation with another server within earshot of customers.
35. Do not eat or drink in plain view of guests.
36. Never reek from perfume or cigarettes. People want to smell the food and beverage.
37. Do not drink alcohol on the job, even if invited by the guests. “Not when I’m on duty” will suffice.
38.Do not call a guy a “dude.”
39. Do not call a woman “lady.”
40. Never say, “Good choice,” implying that other choices are bad.
41. Saying, “No problem” is a problem. It has a tone of insincerity or sarcasm. “My pleasure” or “You’re welcome” will do.
42. Do not compliment a guest’s attire or hairdo or makeup. You are insulting someone else.
43. Never mention what your favorite dessert is. It’s irrelevant.
44. Do not discuss your own eating habits, be you vegan or lactose intolerant or diabetic.
45. Do not curse, no matter how young or hip the guests.
46. Never acknowledge any one guest over and above any other. All guests are equal.
47. Do not gossip about co-workers or guests within earshot of guests.
48. Do not ask what someone is eating or drinking when they ask for more; remember or consult the order.
49. Never mention the tip, unless asked.
50. Do not turn on the charm when it’s tip time. Be consistent throughout.

R I P Norton Buffalo

2009-11-03T11:26:00.003-06:00

21:11 PST PARADISE (BUTTE COUNTY) -- Norton Buffalo, harmonica virtuoso, one-of-a-kind performer and consummate accompanist to the stars,died Friday night from cancer in Feather River Hospital, near his home in Paradise (Butte County). He was 58. Mr. Buffalo, who appeared on more than 180 albums and spent 33 years as a member of the Steve Miller Band, was diagnosed with cancer in September. His life will be celebrated Jan. 23 at the Fox Theater in Oakland in a benefit concert starring the Steve Miller Band and the Doobie Brothers,with special guests Huey Lewis, George Thorogood, Charlie Musselwhite and Bonnie Raitt. "He was the antithesis of East Coast cynical," said Raitt, who spent Sunday morning watching Buffalo videos on YouTube. "He was always in funny mode without being too gooey about it. He's been that guy all this time. In one guy, you got all the hope and optimism of the '70s." Mr. Buffalo played on the Grammy-winning Doobie Brothers album "Minute byMinute," and the recent children's music CD by Kenny Loggins. With Bette Midler, he played in the band and acted in the film "The Rose." He collaborated on tours and a series of recordings for more than 20 yearswith blues guitarist Roy Rogers. One of their songs, "Ain't No Bread inthe Breadbox," was a cornerstone in the '90s live repertoire of the JerryGarcia Band. "Norton Buffalo was a character and a half," Rogers said. "He had a sense of humor. He liked to have a good time, and the joy of his playing came out." Miller said: "He was a complete original. He worked with all kinds of people. He did tons and tons of projects. Everybody who worked with himl oved him, really enjoyed working with him." Mr. Buffalo joined the Steve Miller Band in 1976 at the beginning of the"Fly Like an Eagle" tour and has remained a constant presence in Miller's music ever since. Miller invariably introduced Mr. Buffalo to concert audiences as "my partner in harmony." "He had way more music in him than I could use," Miller said. "I just had more work for him than everybody else." Mr. Buffalo's own recordings include his 1977 Capitol Records release,"Lovin' in the Valley of the Moon," an album that maintains a strong cult following, and a 2000 blues-based release, "King of the Highway." Herecently released a joint CD with Hawaiian slack key guitarist George Kahumoku Jr. He was a virtuosic and technically accomplished chromatic harmonica player who could play anything - blues, rock, pop, country,folk, show tunes. Born in Oakland and raised in Richmond, Mr. Buffalo was raised in a musical family. His father played harmonica, and his mother sang in '40s San Francisco night clubs. His great-uncle, Herbert Stothart, was a Hollywood soundtrack composer who won an Academy Award for his work on"The Wizard of Oz." "His harp could become the valley of the moon, Krakatoa, a storm out at sea, then the sweetest sound this side of heaven," said Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart, who played with Mr. Buffalo in a project called High Noon in the '70s and '80s. Mr. Buffalo joined one of the final editions of Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen on a 1976 European tour, before returning to the Bay Area and forming the Norton Buffalo Stampede, a band that headlined Bay Area clubs for several years. In between tours with Miller and Rogers, Mr.Buffalo had been appearing recently with the Norton Buffalo Trio with his third wife, Lisa Flores. He is survived by his wife; children, Aisah of Lake Tahoe and Elias of Sonoma; stepchildren, Sierra Ruelas of Sonoma and Bo Winterburn of San Diego; father, Ken Jackson of Paradise; and five brothers and sisters. Roy Rogers and the Delta Rhythm Kings, Tom Rigney and Flambeau and theCarlos Reyes Band will appear Nov. 22 in a benefit and memorial at theParadise Performing Arts Center in Paradise. Funeral and other memorial plans are pending.

Norton's "Loving in the Valley of the Moon" was one of my faves. the song "Another Day from that LP is still in my top ten of all time. here is that video (quality notwithstanding). such a sweet song....

Of Football and Baseball...Basketball and music

2009-11-02T12:36:00.004-06:00

As someone said..."it was as if your ex girlfriend showed up at the 25th year reunion with George Clooney." Brett Favre may be the greatest football player I have ever seen in person. That goes for Montana, Marcus Allen, John Elway, etc, all of whom I have seen live. I saw Brett play the Chiefs in the mid nineties and while the Chiefs beat them, Green Bay was never out of the game. He decides he doesn't want to play there anymore, spurns them and then puts the dagger in the heart of all Packer fans everywhere. While I thought Green Bay would show all why they are special fans, they dragged themselves down with the unbelievably hostile greeting. Stay classy Green Bay and while you do have a pretty decent guy as quarterback, no one will ever replacate the swagger and gunslinger attitude that Favre did in your city for so many years. The NFC title will go through New Orleans this year, but a Minnesaot with Favre and New Orleans with Brees championship game would be ideal. Might even make me a fan again. I won't ever jump off the Chiefs bandwagon, but it's "Tough Times in the Land of Plenty" as Larry Johnson continues to make an asss of himself. He needs Priest Holmes or Christian Okoye to punch him in the mouth.

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Throw the slider, Brad...I kept repeating this mantra all ninth inning while Lidge kept throwing fastball after fastball. I have NO dog in this hunt, but I would hate to see a cheater like ARoid win his first series. I can not stand the Yankees and I am rooting for the Phillies to make a come back of epic proportions. By the body language of the Phils and their continued boneheaded plays that anit gonna happen. "Who's on third, no he's on first, I don't know is on third." Jimmy Rollins is the infield captain and no one thought it might have been at least a good idea to slow down, have a meeting on the mound and make sure this was covered. What to do if this happens? How about this? Gah. That was a tught way to lose a game. And the series. Not being prepared and not enough communication. That will derail most plans. Is it college basketball weather yet?

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So Mizzou is picked to finish seventh in the Big 12? People must know more than I do, because I still think they have a decent team, even with everyone graduating. I am too much of a homer. KU is picked to win the whole thing come March. I love this time of year. I will actually make an attempt to go see SLU more, maybe they will be a sleeper, because the Rick Majerus era has yet to live up to expectations. The Hawkeyes? Who knows?

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Leonard Cohen comes to the Fox on saturday night. Since my finances are in a bit better shape, I'm going. I know very little about his music (thanks, Brad for the best of CDs) but recognize "Suzanne" and "Hallelujah". He is in the rock and roll hall of fame and I have a buddy coming in from KC who loves him. He's in his 70s now and probably won't be doing this much longer, so I will go. So far, his music sounds like a New York version of the singer/songwriter type. I get a number of influences from his music and enjoy it very much. Apparently, his manager stole millions from him and this is the only way he can recover some of that money is by going out on tour. In my seventies, I hopw I'm yelling at the kids to get out of my yard. At the Fox, this show should be very sweet.
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Basketball and weigh in tonight at the Y. Can I lose 15 pounds before January 1? We'll find out.

Springsteen and Baseball and Music

2009-11-01T09:54:00.009-06:00

Last Sunday night might have been the night that made me rethink something I said a couple of years ago. "There are very few things that bring me the feeling of awe." I may be paraphrasing myself but it was something along those lines. When I was a kid, it seemed everything was new and awesome, so to speak. A great rainbow can still do it (I have no idea why) but other than that, not much. Last Sunday night Esther and I got into the car at 4:50 and headed downtown to one of our favorite restaurants, the Key West in Union Station. We had an order of chicken wings, many top shelf margaritas and got ourselves ready for the guy who defines and sings about my life more than anyone at this time, Bruce Springsteen. I am so incredibly lucky to live in a city that allows me the opportunity to go downtown at 2pm and get newly released production seats which were literally 50 feet from the stage. I don't think my friends in the Quad Cities are allowed that luxury. After the appetizer at Key West, on with the show. At 8:15, the band comes out and continually hits me on the head with a sledgehammer. I am in tears early and often. From the opening "Wrecking Ball" to "Rosalita", he has me in the palm of his hands. Incredibly playful, during "Hungry Heart", he body surfs the audience from halfway back in the arena to the front. "Surprise Surprise" was a great birthday present to a fifteen year old fan who he doted over the entire show. She'll be a die hard till death. The sign collection brought an open-ended request for Bruce to play piano — "An elegantly made sign... somebody went to the stationary store and did themselves proud!" — and he obliged with a solo rendition of "For You" that was stunning. We got lucky to have "Born to Run" done in its entirety. "Roll Over Beethoven" was his tribute to Chuck Berry, "After all, it is St. Louis". Nothing from "Magic" and only two from the new album. Awe inspiring, like him and his band, THE greatest American rock and roll band EVER!! Here's the set list: Wrecking Ball, Seeds, Prove It All Night, Hungry Heart, Working on a Dream, (Thunder Road, Tenth Avenue Freeze out, Night, Backstreets, Born to Run, She's the One, Meeting Across the River, Jungleland) Waitin' on a Sunny Day, Working on the Highway, The Promised Land, Lonesome Day, The Rising, Badlands' No Surrender *For You (solo piano) Roll Over Beethoven, Surprise, Surprise, Detroit Medley American Land, Dancing in the Dark, Rosalita. AWE inspiring american rock and roll.
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Baseball has become a wussified sport. While the NFL has gotten tougher and the NBA seems to encourage toughness, baseball is truning into a wussifed shell of it's former self. Case in point...the constant preening and admiration of home runs from the batters box. Last night Nick Swisher (who?) of the Yankees got his first psotseason home run and preened. Watched it go but there is no bigger offender than Alex Rodriguez. Hit it, watch it, admire it, preen. I only wish there was someone with Bob Gibson or Nolan Ryan's testicular make up playing today. I swear they would put an end to this. The next time someone stands and admires it, either one of these guys would hit the next five batters along with the guy in the on deck circle and dare you to charge the mound. Wussies, all of them. What the hell has happened to the quality of umpires? Why should you need replay if you watch the friggin' ball at all times. It's easy. Fair or foul? In or out? You have eyes, use them. I cut them slack for the bang bang plays decided by .0001 of a second, but it's either in or out. Call it. I still stand by my earlier prediction...Phillies in 7.
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I must take off twenty pounds and do it now. Follow me on my journey. I will weigh myself at the Y tomorrow night and then again on December 31. I hope to be down at least fifteen. We shall see. It's all about more calories going out than coming in. Are two a days in my near future?

With that in mind, I hit the pavement with the grand dog and did about 70 minutes. Here's what I had to listen to...
"The Grind"-Tommy Bolin
"Last of the Singing Cowboys"-Marshall Tucker Band
"Lady Elenor"-Landisfarne
"Heartbeat City"-The Cars
"Good Time Living"-3 Dog Night
"In My World"-Moody Blues
"Masters of War" (even jesus would never forgive you for what you do)-Bob Dylan
"Live and Let Die"-Wings
"Independence Day"-Bruce Springsteen
"She's Gone"-Hall and Oates
"Rainfall"-Shooting Star
"The Crunge"-Led Zeppelin
"Midnight Madness" Foghat

What a gorgeous day, one filled with awe and hope.

OK....OK....OK

2009-10-30T10:01:00.005-05:00

I had no idea so many people read this stupid thing. 37 emails and countless suggestions on facebook has made me realize that, for some sick and twisted reason, you knuckleheads actually believe anything I say... you know I'm kidding. I am humbled by the response on the hiatus. That's all it was, a hiatus. So many things have happened since we last spoke. Let's just say that "I'm not here to talk about the past."

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I have sinned against you oh king of the blogoshere. I have cheated and been spending most of my time with another lover. Facebook has taken up a great deal of my time. Let me put it like this...facebook reminds me of a beautiful woman who turns heads everywhere she goes. Perfect figure, streamlined, ready for action...but, somehow shallow and not quite ready to pledge her undying love and consistantly leaves you at the altar (wait a minute, I just described radio). Blogging is the woman who is a bit rubenesque, but a better friend you'll never find and grateful for any and all time you spend with her. Eager to please and still sexy but not head turningly beautiful. Blogging is the one you take home to mom and to bed. Facebook is the one you take out to impress your friends. I promise to spend more time with the real and less with the fantasy

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I am at a good place in my life. Things are going well, the storm has passed and I am battening down for the winter. I am in a much better place than I was six or even twelve months ago. I need to lose 20 pounds fast but other than that, I consider myself blessed. I had a great time in Springfield doing the talk show thing. I was embraced by the listeners and the management. I really started to feel comfortable and confident doing it and it could have led to bigger and better things. As we all know, life happens, time gets short and you wake up realizing like the old Frank Sinatra song says I am in the September of My Years and would like to grow old with the ones I love. I needed to be grounded and not make my living my leaving every Monday then to return home on Friday. Too many things happen and can happen. Peace be with me.

John Hughes

2009-08-06T19:32:00.005-05:00

Here's a guy who has his own movie genre named after him. People were always looking for the next John Hughes movie. Dead of a heart attack at 59. Ouch. That's close. Personally, I was on the air when most of these movies were in the local cine. From what I remember, he had his finger pretty much on the pulse of the youth. I found his movies entertaining, fun and for the most part, sweet with usually a nice nice ending. Although he used profanity when needed and he did it very well. The Clark Griswold melt down in "Vacation" is classic. He basically disappeared from public eye, his last public photograph was in 2001. Now, that's the way to do it. Make your money and then say goodbye, see ya, ya gotta have a four wheel drive to find me. I hope he enjoyed his later year, which sounds very strange, coming from a guy six years behind him. All I can say is nice work, man, you made us laugh and think. Your characters were superb,well thought out and well defined.

I would rate my faves as this way, right now, today..
1. National Lampoons Vacation
2. Ferris Buellers Day Off
3. Uncle Buck
4. Sixteen Candles
5. Planes, Trains, etc.

There are people who have the complete opposite view, and one of those views can be found here. Agree or disagree? He's one of the few directors that has music at the forefront of his movies. Music. There it is again. Here's a look back:

"National Lampoon's Vacation" (this clip is definitely not for work or kids)

The song? "Holiday Road" by Lindsay Buckingham.

The Breakfast Club

The song? "Don't You Forget About Me" by the Simple Minds (great song, too)

"Ferris Bueller's Day Off"

The song? "Twist and Shout", "Danke Shoen"

"Sixteen Candles"

The song? Nightranger, Billy Idol, Stray Cats

"Planes, Trains and Automobiles"

No song, but Al Hofer on the radio.

"Pretty in Pink"

The song? Helped revitalize the Psychedelic Furs career

And also great movies without music.....

Uncle Buck

very sweet movie, maybe my favorite of his

"Home Alone"

No song, great movie without one

High School Reunion

2009-08-01T09:38:00.006-05:00

"I'm standing before my old high school, it's been 35 yrs since I touched the door.

But to heal the old pain we must face it again so I'll walk down that hallway once more.

I have come to this 35 yr reunion for my heart is still prisoner of war.

And if I find it's alright we're escaping tonight, that's what I came back here for.

Won't you please waltz with me?

I feel like I'm just like I used to be my heart is locked up here so quietly believing that you hold the key.

Won't you please waltz me free?

The turns of our steps are untangling me, free from some dragged around memory and the rusty old remnants of fear.

And after 35 years, I'm melting the shackles with tears.

I'm as nervous as if its still high school, you're happily married I know.

But it's not just this dance that I'm asking you for, I'm asking you ten years ago.

Remember I wrote in your yearbook? Could you please waste some time on me?

There's just a few things I must tell you,but that's as brave as I could be.

Won't you please waltz with me?

I feel like I'm just like I used to be my heart is locked up here so quietly believing that you hold the key.

Won't you please waltz me free?

The turns of our steps are untangling me, free from some dragged around memory and the rusty old remnants of fear.

And after 35 years, I'm melting the shackles with tears.

-David Wilcox "The Last Chance Waltz" from "Home Again"

I can picture it as if it was yesterday. Walking through the halls of a school so big, it had two campuses. Hard to believe that in one of the smallest cities in the Quad Cities (there are actually five cities there, but East Moline was kicked out for bad behaviour), our school had one of the highest enrollments. The school not only serves East Moline, but Silvis, Colona, Green Rock, Carbon Cliff, etc. The school was not for the timid or meek at heart and since East Moline is situated on the wrong side of the tracks (the whole town, figuratively and literally), you can imagine this boys struggle to acclimate myself into the multi cultured fabric of United Township High School after coming from the lilly white southern Missouri town of Ava (pop. 2500). See, that was another thing that made us feel special. It was Moline High, Rock Island High, Bettendorf High, Davenport Central, East, and West but no, instead of East Moline High we were United Township. The north campus was reserved for the freshman and sophomores, perched high a top a hill close to the boundary of Silvis. On a good day, you could look out the window and see John Deere and all it's foundries and manufacturing plants, back when John Deere HAD a foundry and manufacturing plants. The plants were usually humming with people working all three shifts, seven days a week. I'm not sure what's going on in those buildings now. We used to call north campus "The Prison" because, from a distance, it looked like one, sans the barbed wire. North campus became so overcrowded, (notice how big the classrooms were on the slideshow below) lunch was served in three shifts, you were lucky if you had first shift because third shift was actually somewhere closer to one oclock. I developed my first crush on a teacher there. Pamela Newborn was my English teacher, a very young black woman who was simply stunning. I never missed her class. Mr. Diaz was my history teacher and if we got all of our work done, he'd let us bring in records to play on Friday. I believe he is now the principal. Those kids now are lucky, he was a great teacher and a great human being. Did I say that East Moline was multi cultured? Understatement. We were hispanic before being hispanic was cool. I ran around with guys with the last name of Soliz, Alejo, Martinez and Terronez. I learned about Santana and Malo from them and they learned about Led Zeppelin, Wishbone Ash, Blue Oyster Cult and Humble Pie from me. One of my best friends was the son of the preacher at the local Southern Baptist Church with an afro to die for. DaVoss Murray was another guy I palled with. DeVoss was Al Green, always trying to be so cool and he usually was. That was one thing I couldn't pull off. Being Al Green, that is. As old as it was, (built in 1913) it had a certain charm. Kind of like an old Victorian mansion that was rumoured to be haunted. One of my clsses in my sophomore year required me to be bused to the hallowed halls of South Campus which was reserved for the big kids (juniors and seniors). Five minutes before the bell rang, I'd have to be dismissed early from Latin class (thank God) and catch the bus to south campus, where I would arrive at class five minutes late. Five minutes before that class was over, I'd catch the bus to go back to north campus where I would arrive five minutes late. I felt very special. The summer of 1972 was the "transition year" going from the north to the south. South Campus was newer, cleaner and much more fun. Smoking dope in the parking lot (for reference, see the opening scene of "Dazed and Confused") and then piling in to SC was one sure sign that you weren't a kid anymore. The teachers were cooler and better (or so I thought anyway) with a journalism teacher that allowed us to build a radio station in the back of his class. "Only if you can get the parts yourselves." That summer between junior and senior year was spent pleading with local stations to give us their scrap parts so John "Ohm" Perkins could fix them. Writing stories for the school newspaper was a blast and the subject of most of them was...wait for it..surprise...music! My review of "Goats Head Soup" by the Stones contained the line.."this is the first Stones album that marks the decline of what once was the greatest rock and roll band on Earth. They hit their apogee with "Exile" and it will be a long, slow, painful descent from that peak." Pretty spot on if I do say so myself. My good friend Mike was not pleased. "The only musical taste you have is in your mouth." Critics. I remember loaning my copy of "Catch Bull at Four" to a gal (no names) because she wanted to listen to it and I wanted to make a great impression and then being horrified when it came back to me in almost pieces. "Sorry about that", and then she proceeded to date my arch rival. Bitch. The thing that tied it all together was music. From "Maggie Mae" to "Sundown" and "Annies Song", I don't think the quality of music from 1971-1974 has ever been duplicated. Great albums and great pop songs (Roberta Flack, Neil Diamond and the Carpenters still slay me). 35 years. Where's it gone? I can't fathom the things and the memories that have washed under the bridge since then. Marriage twice, three kids, grandkids and an incredible career in radio that I could have only dreamed about, NEVER in my wildest fantasies did I think it would have turned out like this. It will be great to see some of those people just to say the lines that Toby Keith once made famous.. "how do you like me now?" It will be just great to see others and catch up on how we got this far. In a class our size, a number of them have passed, some I didn't know about til recently (Kevin Claeys). I've met presidents, almost a Beatle, Bob Seger, John Mellencamp, almost Bruce Springsteen (Max Weinberg) and spent the last 32 years playing for a living. The ties that have bridged those years are few and far between, but the one strong thread, the one thing that will transport me back in time was, is and will always remain one thing...the music. Here's to Lobo, Edward Bear, Hurricane Smith, Mouth and McNeil, Don McClean, War, the Ohio Players, the Ojays, etc etc.
35 years, where'd it go?

Bart Simpson-State of Mississippi Separated at birth?

2009-07-29T18:15:00.003-05:00

Proud of America

2009-07-16T15:37:00.002-05:00

Killed in action the week before, the body of Staff Sergeant First Class John C. Beale was returned to Falcon Field in Peachtree City, Georgia, just south of Atlanta, on June 11, 2009.
The Henry County Police Department escorted the procession to the funeral home in McDonough , Georgia . A simple notice in local papers indicated the road route to be taken and the approximate time.
Nowadays one can be led to believe that America no longer respects honor and no longer honors sacrifice outside the military. Be it known that there are many places in this land where people still recognize the courage and impact of total self-sacrifice. Georgia remains one of those graceful places. The link below is a short travelogue of that day's remarkable and painful journey. But only watch this if you wish to have some of your faith in people restored

An Opportunity to Express Yourself

2009-06-29T22:28:00.001-05:00

Here is something you will hear a lot about on the air.....

Poor Thespians Productions is now accepting play submissions of any length for our In Memoriam Series. Submitted works must have a positive military theme and must allow for minimalist staging. The deadline for submissions is Monday, January 4, 2010. Select plays will be performed in mid-May. Playwrights will be notified of their acceptance into the series by the following Monday, January 11.

Please send a hard copy of all plays, with pertinent contact information to:
Poor Thespians Productions “In Memoriam Series”
437 East Locust
Bolivar, MO 65613

If you have questions regarding your play, the submission process, or the series itself, please feel free to contact me at poorbryant@gmail.com.

A Good Friday Read

2009-06-26T11:42:00.002-05:00

Law of the Garbage Truck

One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches!
The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.'
He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.
The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so... love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't.
Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!

From The Rearview Mirror

Crazy Train

Stagefright

Only Sixteen

Had To Cry Today

Happy Anniversary

Goodbye Again

Things Goin On'

Wanderlust

Hey KSHE

On The Road Again

Lady Jane

Dan Peek

Sweet Music

Questions of My Childhood

Goin' to California

Songs of Our Youth

In The Real World * another song reference

Dancing Days

The Game

Shake It*

I Want A New Drug

Connection

Ol' 55

49 Bye Byes

About music

Old Friends

Goodbye, My Friend

"You and I will meet again...When we're least expecting it. One day in some far off place...I will recognize your face...I won't say goodbye my friend...For you and I will meet again"---Tom PettyCurtis Bright 1955-2011I will always love you.

Trying To Loosen My Load, I Got Seven Women On My Mind

40 Years Ago Musically Speaking

Matching tats

The Importance of .002

Lint on my cuff

How Did I Get Here?

Where were you?

The First Time I Ever Heard.....Kansas

My First Interview

So Long, my friend

East Moline

Effing Facebook

THE Band

How Did Don Draper Die?

Incense and Peppermints

The Tapes

July 2010

40 years ago...

Back In The Saddle

Richard Ward Fatherly

Planetradio.us Manifesto

Picture Time

The Words of Shakespeare

Deaths in Threes

Hello Blogosphere

Longevity Rules with Bob

Lint Off My Cuff

Now, This Is Funny

Hey Jude Simplified

Wrap Season

Wha' Happened?

It Was 29 Years ago Today....

Cold, Colder, Coldest

Dude.

Roger Dean album covers

New Facebook Friend

Randy's Top 100

It Is What It Is..Unless It Isn't

The Beatles circa 3000

the music must change, i guess

lady antebellum

Leonard Cohen and All Things Musical

One of the Best Editing Jobs Ever, You've Been Rick Rolled

How to Be A Server

R I P Norton Buffalo

Of Football and Baseball...Basketball and music

Springsteen and Baseball and Music

OK....OK....OK

John Hughes

High School Reunion

Bart Simpson-State of Mississippi Separated at birth?

"You and I will meet again...When we're least expecting it. One day in some far off place...I will recognize your face...I won't say goodbye my friend...For you and I will meet again"---Tom Petty
Curtis Bright 1955-2011
I will always love you.