" The best art and comedy are done in desperate times."

Well, once more we return to the old blog, and I think now we have no choice but to go to the place where many things must be talked about, discussed, dissected and rendered.

So, where have I been? A lot of places, and the world has again become a busy one. 

Let's first get this bit of business out of the way, shall we? While many believe something monumental, a master stroke, if you will, shall be thrown down, I believe we are stuck with what we have.

Yes, President Trump.

Taste that, will you?

You know what? Nothing's changed. Not one thing has changed at all. If anything, it has brought into focus the world we live in.

America, here's the choice you made. Get ready for a ride, because it's gonna be one. The ultimate reality show is now ready to take the stage. This is Donald's World, and you and I are mere extras.

What went wrong? Not that I know, but I'll tell you what I think:

1--The liberals ignored the working class, and took for granted that Hillary Clinton would carry them, while they focused on same old, same old.

2--The new liberals who embraced Bernie Sanders, and yes, what an amazing campaign that was. This at the best, has energized a generation...now will they follow through? Remains to be seen.

2a--The Bernie fans who got butthurt by the convention actions? You (and others), who took your vote and went home? YOU FUCKING BLEW IT!

You have an obligation to vote, a civic duty. Those of you who took your vote and went home. Think about that. 

3--You who voted for that self-centered posturer, Gary Johnson? Sorry, kids...Libertarianism by any name is a fantasy, a happy land that does not exist.

"I just want my bread buttered on both sides." -- Graham Parker

I want no rules, no laws, no taxes, no this, no that. I want my weed, my guns, my right to do anything I want anytime, any way. The Constooshun says I can! Let the free market run things, go to the ER if you're sick, just let me drive my SUV at 150 miles per hour down the potholed highway and off the unrepaired bridge to my certain death in a pool of contaminated, flaming water if I want...

Something like that, I guess. I have one close friend whom I call the Intelligent Libertarian, because I believe she realizes you cannot destroy the nation in order to save it.

4--Green Party? Jill Stein? The Greens can't manage a fuck in a brothel. They can barely manage lunch. No grass roots. 

Look, I can tell the Greens how to organize, but give up the big prize and do the work! Figure out a platform. Roll with it. 

Even if six or seven of you in a town are Green, do this: pick one of you. Run for office, get the signatures, get on the ballot, and fucking run!

Even if you lose, you win by getting something started. You will win new votes. You keep working, growing, stick to it.

So now we have Trump, who has given a frustrated, pissed off, angry electorate who feel ignored, a false voice. If you think he speaks for you...well, you been played.

Oh...and for the millions of people who did not vote? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BITCH. SHUT YOUR MOUTHS RIGHT NOW. 

Stop posting your shit on Facebook, and elsewhere. Grow up!

If your man won, fine. Gloat. Act like you won a show-up trophy, because that's about all you got.

We are a nation (largely) of spoiled children. We've had it so good for so long, and we want more. 

This video says it all:

So what do we do now?

I tell you what...I'm gonna do my fucking job. I am fortunate. I work in a company that does it right, straight forward, no frills. You get news. You get things that you need to know about.

On the network I work for, when you hear us, you hear news. You hear stories. You don't hear pop culture references, no opinionated whinging, no agenda journalism. You get the real deal.

I challenge you to listen to one hour of "Morning Edition" or "All Things Considered." Shut your mouth. Sit there. Listen.

If you do not come out of that learning something you did not know, then, "I can't do nuthin' for ya, man."

For those of you who continue to whine about narratives, and other buzzwords spoon-fed you by a crazed "toilet-trained media" cabal (thank you, Mark Jackson), know that you have a responsibility to not spread things you know are lies. Ranting and raving about whatever some trained monkey (sorry to the monkeys) said, that's not gonna do it.

The "proudly ignorant" (another person said that, and I do not recall who did), they believe if they yell their dumbness loud enough, it becomes truth.

Let them.

Let the dystopian, multi-tentacled life form rant, rave, howl, beat their chests (and something else)...they do nothing to me.

Let them watch their reality shows, their WWE, their UFC, their TV preachers, hell, even the new Star Wars movie for all I care. Keep amusing yourselves to death. Keep eating yourself to death. Keep being the self-centered, self-adoring, "doesn't affect me crowd."

Be like these people, which George Carlin so brilliantly caricatured:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pR8aFDosQBQ

You need to paste that in...they won't let me embed it. Hmmm...

As they get played like a cheap fiddle, we can still live our lives. We know what we have to do. 

The best art and comedy are done in desperate times.

So anyway...my opinion is thus: we are in a spot, but one we put ourselves in.

We can get out of it, by not quitting. Older folks will tell you..."we've been through worse than this."

How true.

The Depression. My parents remembered that. Being broke, no money, no work to speak of, nothing. The farm barely making it, etc. 

World War II. Think about that. Think of the carnage. Our lost people, the millions lost at the hands of Nazi Germany and Japan...the millions of people in the occupied territories, entire tribes wiped out, the Krimchaks for just one of many, not to mention the Jews.

Think of how that war ended, and what we did. 

Ask anyone still alive who remembers that. We got nothing on them.

And people talk like we need that again...

We think of our upheavals, Vietnam, the Gulf Wars, and what is going on in the Middle East right now.

Ask someone about Vietnam...one man who served told me bluntly, "There's nothing to talk about."

Think about what he brought home. Think about what our people bring home from the recent wars. 

I think about a veteran, half my age, with a service dog I met. This man looked whole physically, but mentally he was gone. Nice person, very quiet and kind...all he said was he'd been in Iraq. Nothing else.

I don't know what he saw, or what he did. But that meeting kills me, every goddamned time I think about it.

Think about what the refugees are running from. Why do you think they want to get to Europe, or to the US?

It's not to blow us all up, apart from a few fanatics, and we've got plenty of them right here to deal with.

Doesn't affect you, right? Wrong.

It does. If affects all of us.

So I have a job to do. I'm going to do it, to the best of my ability. What I say on here is one thing, what I do for my calling, that is a much different thing.

Now, what are you gonna do about "it"? That thing that's been wrought? 

Do what you know is right, not what people tell you is right. Your values supposedly aren't much different than mine...I hope not.

Be honest, be real, and do what you are supposed to do. 

I had a strange experience two nights ago...I was in Washington, on my way to the Verizon Center for a Capitals game. In a hurry.

At a corner, a small, elderly lady turned to me...dressed as I am...she asked would I help her across the street?

Yeah, this happened. 

I said I'd gladly do that. She was a bit unsteady. She explained she only lived a block up, and that she was recovering from a brain tumor.

I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with one. We talked about that, and she explained a little of what she'd gone through.

Next to a CVS, she said I can make it from here, and she thanked me. We talked about the game, and how I do some radio work for the Caps' AHL club, the Hershey Bears.

She knew her hockey. She mentioned Boston...living there. I said I'd lived there ten years.

"Where?"

I told her a lot of places, mostly in Watertown. Then she said, "I'm from New Hampshire, originally."

I said, "I'm from Vermont."

Never got her name, but we connected.

Things like that. Little things.

And yeah, I made it in time for faceoff.

How about that?

So suffer the slings and arrows from others, but be aware we're all one in this little reality show, and we need to do our part. Even if it's off script.

Okay, I got writing to do. I have a life to live, and I shall not destroy more of the planet than I need. I'll also save what I can. 

If this upsets you, sorry, but you'll just have to suffer it. Instead of yelling at me, calling me names, threatening me, how about you think of what you can do to be better. 

#thinkaboutit 

Peace, Out.

"Parasite Girls" upcoming release, and Why the Things We Do...

Well, here it is Sunday, and I'm in the Office, trying to organize myself and get ready for another exciting afternoon behind the board for Hershey Bears hockey...can you smell the sarcasm cooking yet?

Oh, I do enjoy the job, but it has its disadvantages. I am hopeful to soon know more about long-term and actual employment, but I have a much more important step to take on Monday.

It's time for a SHAMELESS PLUG:

How about that?

This is the cover for "Parasite Girls," my debut, which comes out on Smashwords as soon as this week. A dream will come true...I will be a published author.

Hold your applause, please, because I want to make sure we can get this done and done right before any of that. My friend Alice will do diligence at getting the final format done tomorrow, and the upload completed. 

Let's hope it goes well. Mitch Bentley is the artist, and you can find out more about his work and services at Atomic Fly Studios.

So, what's it about? In a nutshell, "Parasite Girls" is the story of a burned out journalist named Aidan who is trying to remake himself. He turns up on the doorstep of his old college friend, Mima and they reacquaint. The past is recalled, some of it scary; Aidan soon leans that while on her own, Mima struggles with her past and present.

Two of Mima's closest friends, Sora and Eko are also tagged with an unfair term, the "parasite single." It's a real phrase, used to describe young people who stay at home longer than they "should," and live off their parents.

The point is that's a broad brush and wrong to use on everyone. Aidan knows everyone has a story, and he finds out what theirs is.

Aidan recalls, as do the others, just what never dies despite years and miles that separate people.

I hit on some real aspects of society, and return to a place I once lived. I also have a few things to say about the media which I work in, and also a look at mental illness, and some of its manifestations.

It's a good story, I think, and one that needs telling. I do not touch terribly deeply on some items, because those would be books in themselves. 

The book comes out on Smashwords, here's my profile:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/torygates

More info there very soon. I also joined an interesting group, the Independent Author Network:

http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/

The landscape of writing and authorship has changed. Actually, it changed a long time ago but we were loath to allow ourselves to think that. The days of being sneered at (and worse) for putting out your own work is no longer a bad thing. It does NOT mean you suck as a writer, or weren't good enough to rate a publishing contract, a book tour, and the top spots on the NY Times Bestseller List and Oprah Winfrey's reading list.

The thing is: this changed a long freaking time ago and we did not know it. Or again, our egos did not let us consider it.

Here is my case study, which I use as a template: about 17 years ago, I conducted an interview with two fellows from New York (by way of Maryland) who were in a folk-rock duo called the Wicomicos. Carmen Yates and Mikel Campbell had been in a rock band in the early 90's, had a record deal, all of that. It didn't work out.

They chose to cut loose from all that, by writing their own songs, producing their own records, touring in a big red van, and getting their own gigs. They did it themselves, made a name for themselves, and produced two very good recordings.

Carmen is in New York, and primarily makes a living producing music for soundtracks, TV commercials and other such projects. He has a new band called Racing Rain. They showed us it could be done.

Self-publishing has taken off with the advances in computer technology. Used to be, you had to pay some company a lot of money to make your books for you. This is called a "Vanity Press." Now the term has changed, and the way this is all done has changed a lot, too.

I have shied away from any company that wants money for me to put my books out. I don't have it, and I wouldn't throw it down the hole. I know of too many horror stories, too many people who were ripped off, too many people whose dreams were stolen by sleazy, unscrupulous operators. Just look at Writer's Beware, and you'll see those stories.

Not to say you can do it all for free, not at all. I've been careful with the money I spend on getting "Parasite Girls" ready. You see the cover? That was my largest expense, I suppose, but still a very reasonable amount, given Mitch's talents and the hours he spent on it.

You do need a killer cover. Get that through your head, folks. I also thank Alice for focusing in on a pivotal scene, the one that captures your imagination (I hope) and also captures the energy, the mania and the madness of each person involved.

Now, back to music for a bit: for years, I saw artists selling their music from the stage. Even those who had record deals did that, cut out the middle man, $15 for the CD, right here, right now? Why the hell not?

Hard to do with books. You can't really tour if you're not known, and the days of that are pretty much over. I am NOT the kind of person that can sit at a table in a bookshop with a stack of poorly-made books with shitty bindings and a generic cover, smiling with the hope that somebody buys my book.

It does not work. You need to engage--you need to show them, not tell them. A bit of fine advice from writer friends about my style years ago.

I am still trying to figure out how to engage with a book that is not a book. I will figure that out.

There are countless bands out there that do it themselves. With no label but the one they form for themselves, a Reverbnation and/or a Facebook page, and the availability of reasonably inexpensive recording gear, they are already on the way. Sure, you're not flying first class (if at all!), you're sleeping in the van, on people's floors, couches, spare beds, at your mom's. You see where I'm going, right? You pay your dues.

The amount of money you make will largely NOT be the millions you dream of. The adulation you expect will be no more than whomever is sitting or standing in front of you. 

But that's not so bad...I recall years of doing Rocky Horror before no more than a couple dozen like-minded crazies, and they appreciated what we did. I played to larger crowds too, and it's nice. Enjoy when you get it. The main thing is what you do to get there.

I have more fun writing and creating my semi-real-world universe than anything else of late. I have a ton more stories of different types that I want to tell because I think I have something you might like. If not, no big deal.

I do not plan to soak you for cash. The price will be reasonable and level with what others are charging. Cool thing is, you don't need an eReader or a Kindle--download, read on your smartphone or your computer. All good.

Suffice to say: the world has changed, and we have to change with it. I am putting "Parasite Girls" out to test the ebook waters, and to introduce myself to the world.

There is no point in waiting for a book deal, or for an agent who understands what I'm trying to do to get me one. I'm going for mine, right fucking now.

Amanda Palmer said in a recent speech (paraphrasing here) that the audience you present to might just be those people in someone's living room, attic, space, etc. How true. I told you about Rocky Horror; I recall doing a demonstration of a series of pieces from a version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame in the loft apartment of the director's friend in New York in '96. Maybe two dozen people there? I don't remember. But you do it, because you love doing it.

I love writing. I love my work in broadcasting. I love to play music. It's fun. To be able to do these things and actually make a living is ideal, and I have had that over the years, so I'm damned lucky.

I am not done yet, either. Parasite Girls is just the start, and I have more to share. I hope to live long enough to not just reap some of the fruits of my labor, but to see how you react to it. That'll be the bigger payoff.

I'll be shamelessly plugging it all on my Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and fuck knows where else. This is what I do.

See ya.

December...and How I Could Not Stop for Death...& Other Stuff

Well, it has been some time since I have been here.  I am going to have to go backwards, but in a very short time, so forgive my issues with typos and horrid grammar.

I last blogged around the time of Samhain...and so jump to now.  Because I fucking can.

Magic Sam's "My Love Will Never Die" is playing through my brain on iTunes...okay, here's what happened yesterday.  I noted this on Facebook, and I've got some interesting reactions.

I saw DEATH yesterday.

I was traveling to Washington for the first time in over three years.  I exited 495 and got off at the Kensington/Chevy Chase exit in MD.  With  me so far?

Moderate traffic, midday, nothing serious.  I round the bend for the turn in the road, and there IT was.

Death.

In the median, right by the intersection.  I drove past It to the light.

I say IT, because I don't know the sex of that creature.

But all in black, hood, cloak, the whole damn thing.  A smaller figure than I imagined.

Instead of a sickle, It was leaning on a crutch.

I saw It.  I know what I saw.  I kept driving.

I wondered...did I really just see that?  Did anyone else see that?

"Designated Fool," the Artist Formerly Known as Terrence Trent D'Arby...haven't heard this in years.

I was reminded of my friend Mary Sue Twohy's beautiful vocal rendering of the Emily Dickinson poem...but it just didn't fit the moment.  Too sunny a day, I guess.

Well...that weirdness aside, I navigated my way into the District to WTOP Radio.  Dropped in on my old XM Traffic boss Jim Battagliese, who now runs Traffic and Sports there.  Got to see an old building with a very active and somewhat up to date newsroom.  

A real fucking newsroom, right down to the day's newspapers all lying about the copy table.  I was also reunited with my old friend Amy Freedman and Bob Immler; great to see these folks again.  It was from the high point of my radio career; I had a dream job at a dream place...and of course you know who and what managed to fuck that all up.

But I digress.

"Shadow of the Whip," Harry Manx.  Interesting, folk-like stuff.  Reminds me of Ray Wylie Hubbard w/o the growl.

Talked about the old days, what 'TOP is up to, the competition from WNEW, which really is not.  Radio talk, and talk of writing.

Jim is the author of Stuck in Traffic, which you will find on Kindle.  A film that just read like a movie in the earlier draft.  Names were changed to protect the guilty.

This was partly to see if there is any work left in the world down there. The radio business is a dying art, unless my predicted (yeah) implosion of at least two gigantic bloated companies occurs.  

I have my usual jobbing about going on, and I'll get to that in a sec.  My main reason to go to DC was to head for the Phone Booth (aka, Verizon Center) to see the Hershey Bears and Norfolk Admirals play an AHL showcase matchup.

I am the primary radio producer for the Bears this season, my third of working with them.  I got a nosebleed ticket; sadly, Scott Stuccio could not get me access to the press box, but that's cool.  

Navigating DC traffic is insane.  The streets are on weird angles, one way is always the way you don't want to go, etc.

But, I did miss the city, and once you park the car (and remember Metro really works).

"Rastaman Live Up" by Bob Marley just passed in a flash, and it's "Come Hell or High Water" by Everything But the Girl.  I love Tracey Thorn's voice.

Okay, the Phone Booth is a small arena, but there is no bad seat in the place.  Prices for stuff...now you know why salaries are so high, or is it the other way 'round.  

NINE BUCKS FOR A BEER?  I don't drink, but really.

I have to work today, so I left after the 2nd period.  Good game.  On my way through the city, I passed the Sirius/XM building (formerly the National Geographic one); the lights were on but I wonder if anyone's still home.

I was left to reflect on my nearly five years there; it was a great time of my life, and the ride back through the city and the way home I took so many times was something to remember.

I still don't think my career is done.  

"When I'm 64?"  Love the Beatles, but not this song.

"I Go Crazy," Buddy Guy.  Better.

So anyway, I wonder if my encounter with Death means something.  Is it the death of my livelihood; my career?

Now I have had all of two job interviews with that place in Illinois, which did not pan out.

I had a short talk with the manager of a station...get ready...wait for it...THE ALEUTIAN ISLANDS.

Yep.  KSDP Radio, 830 on your AM dial, in Sand Point.  They are doing a pilot project.  Six months.

It would be an interesting experience; but I've not heard back.

I have another i'view on Monday.  Wish me luck.

I still love this business, but it leads me to my writing, and what I want to do.

I have finished "Time the Healer," the latest draft.  Cut nearly 50 pages off the longwinded missive about growing up, violence, bullying, hatred and the ability to find a way to forgive others even at their worst.

Not that I have done that completely, mind.

"Bad Influence," Robert Cray Band.  Nice.

Now, I've done a needed edit of "Sweet Dreams:  Searching for Roy Buchanan."  After two years, a fresh look has resulted in a tighter story, with an added element to a scene.  Much better.

SDS-2 has been edited, but I need to again.  The real work on a re-examination and rewrite of the series is needed, really needed.

As I told Jim, this is what I have to do.  This is my therapy; this is my touchstone to sanity, or what little of it remains.

I came out of a not-good depression in November.  I turned 47 on the 1st; again my thanks to my family and friends for the more than 200 greetings I got on Facebook.  Really nice.

The interactions with people in DC reminded me of what I miss, and what I cannot find in PA.  Something is missing; a human element is not here anymore.

I have to get out of here.  If I stay, it is only for work, and I will adjust.

Oh...we may be getting the band back together.

Ahltyrra likely will not reform under that name.  I got to see my co-founder Beth for the first time in over a year, plus most of the family last week.  They're doing alright, and I was very glad to be around them.

Beth has decided the band is not for her.  That said, the Dharma Fools are a go for a meetup this month.  We will see who is game, and what we might do.

"Dime Story Mystery," Lou Reed.  Another death song.

Well, that's that for now.  Off to work.

Weekend from HELL...Reconsidered...

Okay...I cannot say I'm crawling from the wreckage, because I'm probably still in it.  What have I been doing?


It's been a Weekend from Hell, in terms of being busy.  I had to do what I call the turnaround; Saturday afternoon/evening at WITF, doing KYW Sports.  Got some sleep, and was back up there for the first shift Sunday morning.


That ran until just before five, then rushed over to Clear Channel to produce the Bears playoff game on the Ticket.  


You know you're dealing with sports junkies when you arrive at the station and find your boss rocking his custom-made Flyers jersey, with Jeff Carter's name and number.  The Flyers were still battling the Sabres, and every team of interest was in a win or go home situation.  Sixers won, but the Flyers and Bears were both in need of victories.


Now, I've blogged in the past about the hellish nature of Hershey Bears hockey games and the conditions at Clear Channel.  Well, this night things worked alright.  One hell of a game I'm working, while Art is watching the Flyers in the WHP live studio.


*Walkman Update* -- I'm starting mine because of certain things going on in the Office...I am no longer in a patient mood and must get this done while people talk about ghosts and stuff.  You have to be here.


"Rollercoaster," by Black Mountain is first up...well, it was the last song in the shuffle, and when you turn on the Walkman there it is.  Loud, heavy shit...NOT the Ohio Players/RHCP disco song, either.


Okay...so the Sixers faced elimination and beat the Heat earlier in the day.  Flyers in big trouble with Buffalo; the game goes back and forth, and Art is living and dying with the Flyers.  My friend Randy "the Rock" Johnson lives and dies with the Sabres, so there you are.


"Amazing Journey," the Who...Live at Leeds remastered.  Nice...


Game goes to overtime...I can see the game on the TV monitor through my window from the Ticket across the hall and into the window of WHP.  Art's glued to the screen.


During an intermission interview I get the chance to take the loooong walk down the hall, through the secured doors and into the bathroom.  MURPHY'S LAW OF RADIO #69:  THE RESTROOM SHALL ALWAYS BE THE FURTHEST PHYSICAL POINT FROM THE AIR STUDIO THAT IS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.  NO EXCEPTIONS.


So anyway, I'm coming back; I hear a SCREAM!!!


"Down on the Farm," James Blundell is next...interesting segue.


Immediately I wonder...is Art having a coronary or did he fall on his sword?  Did the Flyers win or lose?


He screamed more than once.  Anyway, yeah...the Flyers pulled it out in OT, so there's a Game 7 in that series.  Art was so relieved.


Okay...he leaves not long after, and I continue to work a very contentious playoff game between the Bears and the Charlotte Checkers.  This is a Game 6, too; the defending AHL champions are on the verge of getting rolled in the first round by the former Albany River Rats.  


1-0 until late in the third, when the Bears finally push one past the Checkers' goalie, a guy named Murphy who has had Hershey's number all year.  Jubilation!  Redemption!  You can just hear it through the voice of John Walton...they might just get 'er done!


Now, I've done pretty well to keep the game tight, and I'm not having any trouble.  Except that pesky Macro (told you about those) that's mocking me at 8 pm.  


The computer Macro is a command that orders the computer to take over, with specific programming at a specific time.  These Macros are also fired usually every hour to keep the computer and the station synced up with the network.


"Bad News is Coming"  --  Luther Allison, title track of a Motown album from '72.  The only bluesman on Motown.  Beautiful, gritty stuff.


Now...I can kill that Macro if I want.  My friend and colleague Rob showed me a method of working the computer and the macros so I can get a smoother transition.  Easy enough.  I actually was able to figure out what to do.


Well, it all goes for nothing, because 90 seconds into OT, Charlotte scores...to again quote Rob, with a borrowing from Walton's own verbiage..."GOOD MORNING, GOOD NIGHT, GOOD LORD!"


Not quite what John says.  Anyway, game over, season over, that's it, that's all.  Went out well, John said nice things about us, and we're outta there.  


Transition set, done and back to regular programming.  Okay!  Finally ended that season on a good note.


Now, the night ain't done yet!


I decided not to go home, because it was pointless to drive all that way, sleep four hours (maybe) then get up for WITF (again) and Morning Edition.  So I availed myself of "Chez WITF."


There is a bed somewhere in the building (I won't say where) for employees who are overnighting due to bad weather.  I think that's what it's for...essential personnel or something like that.  There are also showers.


Very nice.  So I did crash out, and much to my surprise I did get about four hours of sleep before the alarm went off.  Okay...last leg of the triple.


"Morning Edition" had some minor glitches of my own doing, but none that anyone would have noticed.  News went fine, mechanics getting better.  


The stressful part is building a news log from scratch.  I mean, the stories are pretty much all there, apart from anything you find on the overnight.  Steps, lots of steps and computer stuff to do.  On and on and on...


Did the first two hours, and didn't do bad at all.  Tim's happy with me, thankfully.  So...here I am four hours later, still awake, working  on three cups of coffee since early this morning and a large marble mocha and trying to keep enough energy going to finish one or two last tasks before I go to bed.  Really.


"Rambunctious Boy," John Fogerty comes over the Walkman.  "Blue Moon Swamp" was a great CD, stands up to "Centerfield" easy...in fact, it kills "Centerfield."


More ideas have come for "Silk Road Days," and I'm going to be adding more to the front of the plot.  This book could go a bit longer than the others I've written.  Not a series, at least not yet.  I gotta see where this thing goes.  I have no idea.


Damn, it's a nice day out there.  Sun's out, gonna be like 80 today, if not hotter.  Back to WITF Thursday and Friday for this...so I'll again be awakening at 2:30 in the morning soon.  Joy.


But now I've a couple days off.  What to do, what to do?  Well, I have a lot to do.  My brain needs to digest more stuff from the job, and I have to arrange and schedule so much shit.


"I Me Mine"  --  The Beatles (the Let it Be Naked version).


With that, I gotta do something...crash, burn, something........................

The Week in Review (and the Banshee Screams of Various Creatures)...

Well, if that didn't get your attention, I'm not sure what will.  I've managed to crawl from the wreckage of the past week, and can now look back with some satisfaction at how things went.


Another two hours yesterday as the host for "Morning Edition" on WITF.  Getting better, feeling a lot more comfortable in this position.  I'll be back in next week for a few days, as I get my hands on more of the levers and figure out how to do all of it.


Tim Lambert has been quite a patient master, and I appreciate his calmness under pressure.  The situation has now become clear, as to how I suddenly got an opportunity at a job I was passed over for.


Since Tim is now WITF's News Director, he is sitting in on the mornings, and basically doing two jobs and burning the candle at both ends.  I've become the #2, and will continue to sit in on the mornings for a time.  The new guy is coming over from an area TV station, and he's got business to finish with them, before he can assume the host position.


I have never met him, but he is well regarded and respected, and will do damn well, I'm sure.  I'm just happy to get the shot I am, so it's cool.


Got nice compliments from friends and colleagues, and I'm very relieved for that.  If I was fucking up, I'd hear about it!


So yeah, a very relieved individual I am, and I can actually take a little pride in a job done.  Not perfect; I'd give my grade a B or a B-, but that's not bad for a starter.


Also got a chance to play instrumental music from Ronnie Earl and the Broadcasters' new CD, Spreading the Love during the tops of the hours.  That's what you were mostly hearing on :58 break if you were listening...great stuff.


That said...I also did a lot of writing in my brain for "Silk Road Days."  Got a little more out yesterday, and have embarked on Chapter 17; still not sure how this is gonna turn out.  No idea.


Gotta get back to it; have the Senators game on 1460 the Ticket tonight, which should be reasonably good.  Then another Weekend from Hell.


At the Office, I heard the banshee screams of a small bipedal creature; not a complete day without that.


Trying to figure out the rest of what I'm supposed to be doing...things are weird like that.  Anyway, feeling pretty well chuffed that I got the worst part of the training over, and I gotta stay cool for the next steps.


I also have to continue the writing, and carry on with the other radio things...KYW Sports Saturday and Sunday, then the Bears playoff on the Ticket, and then early Monday at WITF...this is calling jobbing.  When you don't have a full-time gig, you take the work you can get.


Life goes on.