49 Bye Byes

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mine (tattoo virgin)



My daughters (she's a pro)

The Importance of .002

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

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?

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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...

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

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.