Grandma is visiting for the next couple of weeks. It’s always great to have her around, but there’s just one catch. To my grandmother, who I love very dearly, I am too skinny. I’ll take no time to admit that as a kid, I was a chunk. This label stuck with me through my entire childhood. And then, the label “grew” on into high school. Obviously, grandma has watched the decrease in my body mass as I have attempted to pursue a better life in terms of health. I fear that if I were to be within closer proximity of her on a regular basis, my mission would be met with failure. It never changes. Today I was greeted with mexican bread and tamales. Temptation? Oh my, yes! I indulged.

We also did the great american cookout today for the holiday. Dad took the shiny, new grill out for its maiden voyage. Ooooooo… Shiny. Good eats, good margaritas, good times.

It beats the heck out of being sick. I just hope things hold out for the work week.

I think I understand what it’s like to be an obsessive compulsive now. Perhaps that is just a bit of sarcasm, but being sick this week has seen a massive depletion of my hand soap supply in my apartment. I just cannot shake this bug. In hopes of defeating it, I constantly wash my hands after any event involving possible recontamination. Both yesterday and today were spent in bed. My best friend, the TV, kept me company with all of its insanity. With luck, my neck will not be plagued with pain from my head being propped up for too many hours that I even want to think about. I’m hoping that this is the tail end, ten pounds lighter and all.

All of this puts a damper on any potential Memorial Day weekend fun. I’ll have to keep it on the down low for sure. Some times when I get sick, the best way to start feeling better is to start acting better. That’s the reason why I went back into the station on Tuesday. I paid for it big time yesterday. I had thought about hiking or something entertaining like that for this weekend. Instead, I need to bust out the bleach and go to town on my apartment. Yay me.

Not all has been horrible in this past week. I had the awesome time of catching up with Renee last night. She’s gearing up to hit Sydney for a month, leaving next week. It’s people like such that you have to cherish in life. Renee has made her reach for doing what she wants with her life, and that’s just the way life goes. However, when my phone rings, not a lot has changed in the sense that we still babble about nothing for hours. Good times. Florida seems to be treating her well. I’m hoping to make it down there to see her soon.

In an attempt to not launch into a tirade of thoughts regarding the current state of cable television entertainment and how much I loathe 97.3% of it, I’ll end it here. Being sick, I’ve been watching way too much TV.

My head is still hurting a little bit. I’m not sure what this was, but it sucked. Perhaps a migraine or the flu, and all I could so was lay in bed, subjected to the torture of the television. At times, I couldn’t stand keeping my eyes open or to let noise filter down into my ear drums. I’d shiver under the blankets, fall asleep, and wake up sweating. This process repeated a series of times. I’m still not on top of it yet, but I’m getting there.

When I get sick, I have the strangest dreams. At one point, I woke up with the knowledge of how to fix everything there was on a car. In fact, for a brief moment, I thought I was a mechanic and the last thing I wanted to do was to work on a car ever again. A sleep cycle or two later, something about high school and girlfriends. People were all in arms over me and some one that were recently found to be dating, but I haven’t the slightest over who that was. The fact that it was all too real made it scary. You have all these odd dreams only to wake up feeling so incredibly horrible. It’s a bizarre method of personal torture.

Today marks something new in the world of this site. I have yet to test out the validity of their products, but I’m venturing out anyway. You can now buy t-shirts with some of the pictures found on my web site. As I said, this is new, so we’ll see how it goes. All I ask is that if you do get a t-shirt, take a picture of yourself with it on and send it to me. I’ll start a new gallery featuring said things. If you have a request, feel free to contact me.

I think I’m discovering part of the reason that I fell in love with radio. The storms in the last few days have been spectacular. Jim called me this morning checking on some passwords that he had forgot to some of the computer equipment. Seems that power was lost on that end of town. He woke me up around ten this morning, but the day started for him around six. Ouch. Anyhow, that gives you an idea of what’s been going on.

When the skies get dark, people turn to the radio. Yesterday, the skies exploded. Alerts were pouring in from the NWS. Tornadoes. Thunderstorms. Flooding. It was all coming down the EAS pipe. As soon as Jim and I heard it come over, we’d head into the control room where Dennis was in a mess of notes from everything, trying to alert the public in danger. It was a rush. Some one out there was depending on the information coming out of our station. It’s an interesting feeling.

Thunder is booming once again as I sit here. I can’t help but think about the time that my mom and I were huddled in the basement as my heart beat with pure fear, tornado siren blaring outside. It was just a downdraft, but the winds were batting the house like a ping pong ball. We held onto each other under a blanket, not sure what was going to happen. The sky went green that day, which is never good. The power was out as soon as it started and didn’t return for at least a day. No one was hurt, and the only damage were to the trees. Not just by straight snapping of branches and trunks, but by a twisting motion like a bottle cap.

When I hear that tone, the one that alerts you of impending doom on the horizon, there’s a chill quickly followed by a rush of adrenaline. I know what it’s like to be that person stuck in the basement with nothing else to depend on but a radio.

As often happens in the world of my family, or that which I have come from, I find myself immersed in the world of “information and technology”. In geek, nerd, or corporate speak, that’s IT to you. In all seriousness, I can’t remember a day without technology being apart of my life. Computers, televisions, CD’s, VHS, and so on. When Star Wars finally made it to broadcast over our local CBS affiliate, I drove that beta tape into the ground because I watched it so many times. All this tinkering with gadgets, or electronics, just kind of comes second nature.

Mark today as another first. My first IT seminar. Microsoft Security Training. Imagine, if you will, a bunch of people crowded into an auditorium being lectured to about network and domain security. Group policies. On and on. To me, it is of interest because the more I can do at the station to keep all the office machines safe from hackers, the less late nights I’ll have. As far as the entertainment factor goes, it’s just not my bag. However, you look around this room and there are people who live for this. Pale skinned individuals with poor to no grooming or fashion skills, drinking their highly carbonated, sugary, caffeinated beverage of choice while munching on something sweet. They giggle with eagerness when they prove the speaker faulty on some subject he just covered. It’s like elementary school when the same people laugh at your for raising your hand, admitting to some security policy you operate on your local network that is so three months ago.

I’m not a PC person, but I can handle working with both platforms. By that, I mean Apple and Microsoft. I enjoy the work I do and like to think that I’m pretty good at it. I’m far from perfect, that’s for sure. I’m learning everyday, and in this business, that’s exactly what you need to keep doing, day in and day out. I fear some of these people, with their pony tails, belt clip cell phones, polo shirts, khaki pants, hush puppies, and portable technology of choice. I admit, what I do as a broadcast engineer is nerdy, but if I had their jobs, yet alone lives, I think I’d go postal.

Had a very long day. Jim and I made quite the tour of the northeast portion of the state. We had a translator to fix, and the mission was accomplished but not without headache. Interesting time. Good road trip. Swung through the FM site to check on things while on the way back into town. I have to say that it was a good idea, regardless of the puddles of water that awaited us when we walked in. We don’t know how, but two computers and a good collection of paper work is ruined. Some of it we hope to dry out. We’ll see. The roof is in the midst of being replaced. There could be some sort of connection there. Time will tell. I’m sure Ed will have an explanation in the next few days.

Right now, I’m listening to Billie Holiday and loving it. It might have something to do with the fact that I’m tired from today’s adventure. On top of that, today started out a little warm and muggy. Now it’s foggy and cool. It’s just the perfect thing to be listening to right now. It’s amazing how much my musical tastes range, but mood dictates my playlists more than anything. Ms. Holiday is making me feel quite all right.

Rainy, dreary days are that which I am not fond of. Thunderstorms? Now we’re talking. They used to scare the crap out of me as a kid. They still do, but the fascination factor plays into things quite a bit. Watching the thunderheads off on the horizon. The thrill of the wall cloud passing over head and wind nearly knocking you over. Lightning so close that as soon as you see it, thunder announces that you are fortunate to not be fried like an egg. I love that. The boom is maddening enough to make you heartbeat quicken. If it can make me jump, all the more better. Call it the thrill seeker in me. It’s unpredictable. It could kill you. It’s fun.

Mike is on route once again. Before the sun was up, he was in the air with his crew. They say this one will be for two months. There is comfort in that. The destination is better than his last, but far from being the safest place on earth. I talked to him yesterday on the phone. Of course he’s not happy to go, but it’s all apart of the job. The guy has been to more parts of the world that I can even hope to see. At the same time, I don’t think I’d like to see them the way that he has. Regardless, I’m here to support him. I don’t like war of any kind, but this forum was never intended for any discussion of my political thoughts. He’s my brother, and I’m behind him and his squadron one hundred percent. Whatever brings them all home soon and safe.

A storm is brewing. Smells like rain. Time to end this in case the power goes out.

What is it about hair stylists? There is this unwritten rule, at least to me, that while getting your hair cut, or done, if you prefer, conversation must take place between yourself and the person working the mop on top of your head. Naturally, silence would be uncomfortable, so in its essence, this all makes complete sense. However, it is the nature of the conversation that always gets me. It doesn’t annoy me, but I seriously have to choke back laughter.

You sit down in the chair, they drape the anti-hair-falling-down-your-collar device, or devices, depending on the type of place you go to, ask you about how you want your hair, and off you go. Depending on the person cutting my hair, they grab their scissors or clippers, stare at the state of my head in the mirror, and begin. Every time, without failure, there is the key moment.

“So…”

Do I live in town? What do I do? What did I study? What do you do for fun? Wow, do you talk on the air at all? Where do you work? So that’s, like, technical and stuff, right? Where are you from originally? What type of music do you listen to? Oh, do you know so and so?

Do they teach this to them in cosmetology school? A specific class on how to initiate painful conversation. I bet I could be a professor and teach such a thing. Seriously, ask me about my job some time and I’ll have fun watching your eyes glaze over.

Look, I think it’s time we talk…

A few months ago, I made a decision that affects your involvement in my life. It has reached a point where a lot of things are changing for the both of us. Together, we have grown a lot. For nearly four years, we have seen two continents and many states. Every time, you were there for me. Hours on end, you’d keep me comfy and cozy.

There are so many great memories. Riding the Ginza Line and drinking beer on the train. Driving back home, alone, from Kansas City for the first time, trying to forget about the night before where I fell asleep in the bathroom after a night on The Plaza with Angie. All those times you kept me company walking back and forth to the station when I was putting the air studio back together. I had no clue as to what I had gotten myself into, but when I left for the day, your sound was always there to help take that stress away. Countless, countless times of listening to you in the car. How can I forget any of that?

Now listen to me… I want you to know that it’s not you, it’s me. Times have changed. I can’t be bogged down with carrying your things around all the time. It’s just too much baggage. I can’t handle that anymore. And you skip. Ok, so it’s not just me, but I still do love you. Like I said, we’ve had great times together. It’s just time for me to move on. And yeah, I have sort of found some one new. You just have to understand, our time has come to an end.

Sure, I’ll come back and visit from time to time. Eventually, those times will become less and less. We’ll turn into a memory. Every time I think about you, I’ll smile. And yes, I will miss you, but that pain is bound to heal over time. You’ll be fine. And I’ll do my best to help you find a new home.

I’m sorry, but you’re just not like my iPod. I just can’t keep carrying around all these minidiscs for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry, but one day, you’ll understand.

Reworking your resume is a hard thing to do. Before this who radio thing actually started to kick in, I was taught to push all the experience that I possibly had to just make myself look like some one you should hire. Now it’s a matter of refinement and references. Picking out people who you want to give you a good name is not the easiest thing. The part where you actually ask the person is intimidating. You’ve chosen them to say, “Yes, you should hire this guy because, quite frankly, he’s the guy.” In the end, this is just a roll of the dice. That degree is still in the cards.

I look at Jeff who is now pursuing his dream and I consider him lucky. His job is to do radio play-by-play for high school sports. Baseball, softball, basketball, and, hopefully this fall, football. We had a hell of a good time working together, doing the whole college radio thing. Sure, he’s not making loads of money, but he loves sports. Trust me, I know this from the conversations that found us both at some level of intoxication.

If I don’t take this chance, I might miss my opportunity. I can take everyone’s advice and do things the usual way. On the other hand, I can push to determine my own destiny. I have no inclination as to which one is wrong or right in terms of what I should do. However, I’m writing my own book. It’s safe to say that I have been doing that from day one. Since when have I ever really cared about what others thought? I’ve made my mistakes and learned from them, but this is something much bigger. Where I’m at is just a step in that general direction.

In the meantime, go here and play. Made me laugh.