A Death In Radio
From the time I was three years old, I knew I wanted to be in the radio business. At age three I was impressed by something I heard a local New York City radio personality do on the air. I ran into the kitchen to ask my mother how this had been done.
ìItís his job to know how to do that,î she said, ìHe has to know. Thatís what he does for a living.î
Immediately I knew, that was the job for me. The life for me.
A Very Strange Fatherís Day
No cards came in the mail this year. Not a surprise, not a letdown.
The ex had warned me that the kids had sent a card to their grandfather, but none to me, she chuckled. Or maybe the better put, she cackled.
Knowing, as I do, that she is the driving force behind most snail mail initiative for both kids, I took this into consideration and accepted it as the state of things. So be it.
My son sent me a nice, baseball-themed card-via-the net.
Fuck Bill Gates, Fuck Microsoft and the horse they came in on
Hereís an off the wall rant, with a rather disparate cast of characters, entities, and concepts:
The Wall Street Journal, broadsheet of the financial world and other subjects that carry advertising.
Weblog Topics & Subjects in various states of contemplation or completion on the drawing board:
1. Finishing up the ìtv and movies when I was a kidî essay (began it on April 18th). I'll finish it yet, that's a solemn promise.