Author: John Bollwitt

There is no need to go grocery shopping this week! All food will be furnished by the station, and I cannot complain. It’s just a fortunate thing that comes along every six months where we ask for donations from our listeners. On top of that, we get food donated to help us through the marathon of listener solicitation. From subs to gourmet food, pounds are being packed, bellies getting bloated, and sleepiness being fought with ounce after ounce of soda and coffee. It’s a good time.

I haven’t had much sleep in the last few days, but that all changed yesterday afternoon. I got out of my station duties around noon yesterday and collapsed into bed an hour and a half later. Woke up just ahead of six, ate some food, and fell back into bed around seven. Eric was in town from Kansas, and I figured I would use his phone call as an alarm clock while I took yet another nap. Woke up around ten, no phone call, figured might as well keep sleeping because my body said that it could use some more. Up at nine this morning, and I’m still feeling tired, but at least I’m thinking straight.

Checking my phone as I am heading into the station today, there’s a voicemail from Eric. However, the call actually came in at nine the night before. I slept right through it, even though my phone was in its charger, just feet away from my head. I slept through the ringing, I was that tired. Makes being a little upset that Eric didn’t call last night pointless.

Sleep deprivation is how this week started, and that is exactly how it is going to end. In fact, I’m going to very little editing to this post in order for you to get the full effect of the tiredness that is going through my body at this very moment. Of course, you’re probably wondering if I’m alright in terms of physical and mental health. Don’t worry, I’m just fine… I’m just me.

Jim and I took the plunge on Wednesday afternoon and dropped the new console into the FM control room. Once you cut the wires, there’s no going back. All our preplanning and preparation went out the window as soon as that happened. The realization came to both of us when he counted on his hand all of the cables we forgot to make prior to this. There in lies another reason why typing is a bit difficult right now; my fingertips are quite tender from making audio cable after cable, attaching the required end to them. Clip, strip, crimp, solder, repeat. I wish it went as fast as it is to say that.

I’m tired now. Need sleepy. Java House in a little more than six hours.

Disconnect pretty much sums things up. We all have nights where we go to bed only to find ourselves restless. Tossing, turning, literally fighting with your mind and body just to get some sleep. Then you fear getting up because if you do, you might miss the opportunity and make yourself more awake. You lay there. You keep thinking about relaxation techniques that maybe you can employ to help things along being that the ones you are used to have failed horribly.

Maybe relieving your bladder will help? No, you don’t have to pee that bad. What else can I do? I could make a cup of tea. You know, “sleepy time?” That would help, but that might really wake me up more than I already am. And what happens if I get really tired while I’m waiting for the water to boil? I guess I could always turn off the stove and just crawl back into bed. That would also mean no tea, so maybe I need the tea in order to…

Too late.

You finally feel asleep, but it’s only a hour later. This process will repeat about four more times before the alarm goes off. That’s in about four and a half hours.

Bugs are invading my apartment. I love having windows that face south and west, but these damn things love the sun as well. They follow wherever the sun beats down on the most. Last night, I woke up to find one crawling on my face. They don’t bite. They don’t sting. At worst, they stink. Drives me nuts.

This long week finally drew to a close, but the work at the station is hardly close to being done. I fell into bed last night only to sleep for around eleven hours. I’m still tired, but I went running this morning. If I take a nap now, I’ll suffer the cramps later. On top of that, I’ve been sucked into the baseball playoffs. I’m handling the end of the Cubs season better than I anticipated. Now I can focus all my energy on disliking the Yankees and Braves. Go Sox!

The onslaught of ISDN link ups just never seems to stop. In fact, as soon as I’m done with this, it’s time to collapse into bed as I have to get another one up and running with NHPR again prior to the Java House workout. Back to back ISDN’s over the midday today. It’s pretty neat when you know a professor on campus who happens to be the head book reviewer for The World coming out of WGBH in Boston. I tell you, they edit that stuff so much to make it sound that good. That’s probably obvious to a lot of people, but seriously, it’s a good thing for these guys. It’s not that they’re bad, it’s just they have so much information that spews forth from their mouths with all sorts of names that are incredibly hard to pronounce, yet alone remember.

John Freyer linked up with BBC Scotland during one of their live afternoon programs(keep in mind, seven hour difference with it being noon our time). It was an absolute riot. I know Freyer from a show I did with him over at KRUI and other chance meetings we’ve had; great guy, smart, incredibly funny. This has me convinced that working for the BBC would be absolutely insane. Perhaps fun and enlightening, but insane. It could have just been the live show atmosphere during their drive time hours, I’m not too sure. Anyhow, it was an absolute treat. Loved every minute of that one.

Burning the candle bright this week. Time to crash.

Killing a little time, I’m sitting here in one of the production studios doing an ISDN uplink to New Hampshire Public Radio. Sure, it’s not the most populated state of New England area, but there is still a lot of interest there in terms all the political hoo-hah going on right now. In fact, it’s pretty amazing that they want to talk to a guy from Herbert Hoover Library as an expert in these presidential debates going on. From small state in the midwest to small state in the extreme northeast, I’m only a small link in making these two areas discuss political ideology.

The other thing that mystifies me a little bit is how this conversation going on over data lines in the room on the other side of the studio glass will affect the decision of some one in another state. That’s not much different than having a conversation with some one over a cup of coffee and arguing over such things, but where do most people get their influence over these issues? And somewhere in New Hampshire, some one is going to talk about something they heard on their radio this morning, be it in a coffee house or drunk over a beer at a pub, and somewhere in there, indirectly, it’s my fault some one will get into a political argument. That’s too neat.

I’ll miss you, Rodney.

Summer is finally coming to an end for me. There’s a month of the World Series playoffs left in the year that will be baseball. It’s been a good year for the sport, regardless of my long standing love for the Cubs. Towards the end of high school and beginning of college, I never gave much thought to the sport. Deep down, I’ve always loved it. I would spend hours upon hours with kids in my neighborhood playing game after game. Paul, Chris, Mark, Brian, Andrew, T.J., Jerry, and other names of kids I can only recall faces and slight memories of.

The park where we used to play across the street is still there, but it has changed a lot. Gone are the dirt bases that were ground into the grass. Home, first, second, third, and even a pitchers mound. A lot of the times, we would have three against four when it came to teams, hauling our gloves and bats on our bikes, BMX or Predator if you were cool enough to own such a pedaling machine. I recall very vividly one of the last few games we played there. With the nearby church parking lot full for some event, some one cranked a hit into “right field”, putting a beautiful spider web decoration into a worshiper’s windshield. I don’t know where everyone went, but we peeled out of there in different directions at light speed.

It’ll be a long time until spring training rolls around, but I’ll manage. After all, I think to be a true baseball fan, you have to be laid back and have a good sense of patience. I’m a Cubs fan. I think I have that nailed down pretty well.

What goes beep every thirty seconds at eight in the morning? My smoke alarm, that’s what. I swear, I jinxed myself on that one. People all over the station were asking me what I was going to do Friday night. To be perfectly honest, I planned on going home and sinking into bed at a somewhat decent time. However, I worked late as Jim and I are gearing up to sink that new BMX into the FM control room. Last week was just hectic, and I know I say that a lot. All I wanted to was sleep in late, but that damn smoke alarm had other ideas. Ah well, at least I got some much needed grocery shopping done at nine in the morning!! The wonderful “save my life device” is hard wired in with the battery as a back up, so if it was going to stop, I had to make tracks fast.

There are changes that we are making on the technical end that people are really starting to hoot and holler about, and I mean that in all seriousness. Simple things, like desktop editing of audio which will save on the cost of recording media and backed up waiting lines for the production studios. This also means a lot of holding of hands as this process really takes shape. It’s something the staff has been waiting years for, and now that it’s here, they have very little knowledge about how networking operates. In the midst of installing a digital audio console for the FM, installation of generators for both transmitter sites, the fall fundraiser, digital transmitters for both stations, and various remote broadcasts, my life is a malay of radio excitement.

Regardless, yes, I’m still liking the job. The fact that I get paid to do this makes me love it that much more. There… An answer for a commonly asked question as of late.

Karate explosion.

For all those wondering, the birthday was a resounding success. As I told my grandparents, I didn’t spend a dime the entire day, but I spent all day Saturday paying for it. Now, I did have my birthday printed up in the newspaper, but how many of you can say that you’ve had you birthday announced over the radio for the entire state to hear? That was pretty neat. Dennis bought me lunch, Diane got me cookies, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing with well wishers, Deidre bought me dinner and drinks, and so did the other people I spent that night celebrating with… Vanessa, Kristen, Hannah, Mike, and other random people who bought me drinks for the simple fact that I was the birthday boy. To tell the truth, I lost count. I remember the night just fine, but I couldn’t tell you what I drank.

Needless to say, I didn’t move much on Saturday.

Sunday was awesome. There was so much food, I still feel bloated. There was guacamole left over, a very unusual event, but no one could eat anymore. Tacos, beans, rice, chips, pico, margaritas… There was just a lot. In typical fashion, we starting eating about three and didn’t stop until about six, plus ice cream and cake. I got to bring the leftovers home for lunch today, so with hope, this gorging of food will end as of tomorrow. I think my liver might thank me as well.

Tomorrow is twenty-six. I have passed the quarter century mark without too much of a hitch. Perhaps a stumble and some bruises, but I’m still here. Amazingly, I’m still here. I’ve done a lot within my life time, seen a decent portion of the world, and learned more than, I think, the average human. Of course, I could mean below average, but I’m really not keeping track of you. This is all about me here, remember? Moving on… It’s my birthday tomorrow, and I don’t have much for expectations. That comes Sunday when Benjamin and I celebrate together with my family. Tacos, margaritas, and the crew. I couldn’t ask for much more than that.

On a sad sort of note, Jim and I ventured into UI surplus today in search of a few things for the station. Came across a box filled with audio carts that I packed prior to moving KRUI out of the old house. Various carts with liners, I.D.’s, promos, and what not. Years and years of history, waiting for some one to buy them all for about five bucks. The history sitting there, discarded like that, made my heart sink slightly. To the many other who came before me and made those carts, they probably would have cried.