Author: John Bollwitt

Zach is probably the happiest little boy you will ever meet in your life. He’s probably one of the strongest as well. Born with Angelman’s, he doesn’t have a lot to say, but the things he does speaks thousands of words. He had a rocking birthday party a few weeks ago. Six years old. Time really does fly by for this uncle.

Onto other news…

I have found a place to live. I put in my application for this apartment yesterday and by this morning, I was already approved. It’s pretty sweet. Fireplace, ceiling fans, walk-in closet, an actual bedroom, dishwasher, and deck. A secure building to keep all you stalkers out. Washer and dryer… Let’s just say that again to feel that tingle down my spine one more time… Washer and dryer inside the apartment. Meals at the breakfast nook, so no more eating while sitting on my floor. It’ll be a mansion compared to the ghetto I call home now. Signing that lease later this week will put my strained mind at ease.

George is bringing me in full steam into the KRUI studio install. It will be some extra money in my bank account. He admired the work that I did on the console installation Jim and I teamed up on back in February. Once again, I’ll get paid to learn from some of the best broadcast engineers in the midwest. That’s a fact that I have come to discover as of late. I had the chance to talk to some other engineers in the profession who can’t say enough about these two gentlemen. I thought I felt lucky to work with these guys before, but now I feel pretty honored. Kind of neat to hear my name thrown into the mix once and a while. Trust me, I’m nowhere near the capacity of knowledge that these two guys possess. Is broadcast engineering where I’m going to stay in this profession? I don’t know, but it never hurts to know how everything works behind the scenes when you’re the one calling the shots.

Do you like the Air? New album is down right tasty.

I have to say that it’s great to live in a society where having no talent can make you a superstar. Have you seen all this hoo-ha about William Hunt? Forgive me if it’s old news, but I just caught it today, and boy, what a load of crap. He sings horribly for just a few seconds on a reality television show that gets replayed more times than Howard Dean and suddenly becomes a nationwide sensation, music video and all. For the love of god, please, everyone, resist this attempt. This is not the candy that you want to bite into, trust me.

Anyhow, things are going to kick into full gear this week at the station. Oddly enough, I’m quite excited. This cold is about through my system, so that’s a start. So many good things are happening that I can’t really go into detail because it’s all in the preliminary stages. I came on board at a really good time. I’m going to have experience that is going to be incredibly valuable when the time for forward progression comes along. I can’t really say where or when, but my eyes are wandering… a lot.

Another good Easter, another good family gathering. Of course, it could have been worse. I like the Easter Bunny.

I hate shopping for clothes. This is not a result of being your average male who just prefers something opposed to being naked. I’m really picky about the clothing that I purchase. It could be the style, the fit, or the look of… yuck. When it comes down to it, shopping for clothing is not the easiest thing around here unless you want to look like every other Tom, Dick, and Harry. I’m not saying that I’m an expert in fashion, but at the same time, I can tell you that I like to feel good in what I wear. That satisfaction comes on many levels that I can’t really form into thoughts right now or even care to.

I will say this… Why is it that men’s fashion revolves around big and baggy, sports, or button down shirts? I’m not saying that there is anything bad about button down shirts, but there are so many of them, most of them just being hideous. In this area, it’s hard to bypass all the rhetorical fashion that is incredibly annoying, often trendy. On the opposite end of that spectrum, crap. Sports teams and brand name logos pasted across shirts. I hate being a walking billboard unless it’s for a band that I hold near and dear to my heart. I’m frustrated because I went on a shopping adventure and only ended up with a new pair or pants and shorts. Two things that are not as difficult to shop for, but don’t get me started.

Bummed that I missed the Troubled Hubble show last night at the Yacht Club, but this cold is about to bite the dust. It’s good to take care of yourself. Green tea, vitamin C, and sleep. That’s the stuff.

I love baseball. Those that know me understand that I’m not a sports fanatic by any means. I can’t sit here and repeat stats. I don’t talk about all my high school sports experiences, for which there are none because I didn’t really do much at all in those areas. I don’t know who all the superstars are. I can barely tell you a lot about any of the teams that I claim to like. I might be able to tell you about some of the really cool baseball cards that are somewhere in my old bedroom of my parent’s house, but even those memories are fleeting.

Last night, I watched the Braves play the Mets. I don’t like either of those teams. I could care less about how they do for the rest of the year. It’s just the pure enjoyment of the game. I can’t explain it. It’s not too fast, yet slow enough to stay within the sanity of my mind. If I look away for a minute, I won’t miss too much. Bathroom break and you might miss a home run, but that’s what instant replay is for.

When it comes down to it, I think back to the baseball game that I saw in Yokohama, Japan. The Yokohama BayStars. Memory fails me on who they played, but the whole stadium was nothing short of electric. I loved every second of it. All I could think, “This is what baseball is supposed to be like.” I guess every time I watch a game, I kind of feel that moment reliving itself all over again. Thinking of the time where I got to enjoy a Sapporo and a beef bowl at a baseball game.

And yeah, I cut myself today doing the Java House. Mic stands have pinched my fingers before, only leaving blood blisters. This time, it ripped a chunk of skin out of my index finger. It might be high time that I think about switching up to coffee from my usual, weekly hot apple cider.

Tired. Congested. Sinus pressure. Plugged up ears. Scratchy throat. Squeaky to talk. Kleenex after kleenex. Kansas was a wonderful time, but what I have been left with is less than enjoyable. Colds are annoying.

Eric was a great host and tour guide. My first time to his neck of the woods these days, and I enjoyed it as much as I could, minus the health. In all actuality, it was nice to just relax. It appears Muffin will be moving in with him in August, so I’ll have double the pleasure, double the fun to make additional visits. That might be mooching to you, but I’m some one who can cook. A meal or two has been promised, and that’s an offer to anyone that allows me to make their home mine during any of my adventures. I am already thinking of a return, but this summer is going to be pretty action packed.

Muffin has picked out the last weekend in June for the camp out, so that solidifies my trip planning for NYC. Brian has given me the green light to stay with him, so hopefully everything works out with lining up the flight. That’s a whole week in the city. I’m flipped about that. Then the Valadez family reunion in July. Bill and Erin’s wedding in August. So much going on, and I know that I need to get on top of the other stuff that I’m forgetting. I won’t even go into the list of projects at the station.

I got my new glasses and contacts in the mail today. Very swank. I’m very happy.

Everything is packed up and ready to roll. Muffin called me today to make sure that I have directions, so I’m all set there. There is still this feeling that I’ll get lost and walk in to his musical a little late. Have faith, right? On top of that, it has been reconfirmed to me that the musical he has a roll in is Grease. Now, burn me at the stake all you want, but I hate that movie. Nails on a chalk board. I can’t stand it. If you are saying to yourself right now, “How can you not like Grease?”, there’s a quick clue. Based on the absolute, moronic aspect of that question, I respond, “How can you not like early 1900’s, russian, silent, non-narrative, expressionist films?” I rest my case.

I’m struggling with the apartment hunt. Right now, I’m sitting on my decision. It’s coming down to a matter of location and affordability. Ok location, great apartment, moderate rent, or great location, lacking apartment, better rent. Then you start breaking down all the other pieces of the puzzle. The cost of utilities, the neighborhood, what winter would be like, etc. It’s not easy, but I’m finding myself becoming in tune with this art form.

Tomorrow, I’m leaving town, so we’ll see when the next time you’ll hear from me will be. If I get access, I’ll see what I can do. Hopefully, I’ll have some good pictures of the mischief we get ourselves into.

And I’m telling you, Absolution is a great album. Muse is just amazing me. Talk to my nephew Ben about it as, “it’s not weird at all, Uncle John. It’s really, really good music.”

Gorgeous. Beautiful. Wonderful. Those are words for a day like today. Sun shining. Barely a cloud in the sky. Warm. And me, sitting in my office, playing with servers and computers. Well, from my perspective, it’s playing. From the outside looking in, it’s work. I can’t go into real details yet, but I had my first experience with major donors to the station today. It’s not even a deal put to paper at this point. However, a new toy looms on the horizon. Hopefully this time it won’t take five months of preparation and twenty-seven hours to install it.

And today is the last day of stuffing my face, as well as raising money for the station. Just to spite me, they brought in a box of freshly made, oatmeal raisin cookies. Some one thought I hurt myself I gasped so loudly. Oatmeal raisin has got to be my absolute favorite when it comes to cookies. I’m not a big sweets fan in general. Now, oatmeal raisin? I’m an addict.

I’m getting anxious to do some cooking again. Baked some chicken in a mole’ sauce about a week or so ago, but it seems like a lot longer than that. Need to find some good recipes. Then again, winging it is fun.

Finding a new apartment has become quite the adventure. Just like my women, I have become more picky than ever before. I’m not sure what comparison you can make, but efficiency is greatly outweighing anything else that goes into my next home. The place I live in right now is tiny, so the time is approaching to get myself out of that situation. Living alone is where I want to stay. Now it’s a battle of nice, cute neighborhoods against nice, cute apartments in those oddly sterile developments. At this point, sterile is winning. It’s time for me to find a home that is great on the inside. I’m not against getting out of the house and going for a drive to find those great places outside of my walls.

I’m taking a little break from work right now. I’m pounding my head over office server issues and a busted printer. These are the not so glamourous sides of radio. If it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m not. I enjoy this type of work, no matter how grueling or mind numbing it can get. I’ve done my fair share of on air type stuff back in my KRUI days. I consider this a natural progression of my talents. I’m not saying I want to be just like the guy, but Art Bell started out doing the same stuff that I am. He became the number one, late night talk show host in the nation for a hand full of years until retiring in his prime. I can only wish to be so lucky, but in the meantime, I’m having fun getting paid for what I do.

Getting excited for the trip coming up with Muffin. And yes, just me and Muffin. Still, a good time.

For the past two lunches and single dinner, I have had chicken tacos furnished by the station. Oh so yummy and they fit so nicely in my tummy. Fundraising week rages on. I’ve done better about the cookies though. There’s so much sugar, it’s so easy to get a rush. Along with that is the come down. Why do I know that? Let’s call it first hand knowledge. And they just brought two pans full of enchiladas through the door. None of this recent mexican food can compare with the likes of my mom or grandmother when it comes to this particular type of food, but it’s pretty flippin’ tasty. I’m going running in the morning, I’m going running in the morning, I’m going running in the morning…

My apologies to those of you who are trying to understand where you are at this point. No, this is not an April Fool’s Day joke. Welcome to my new home. Hopefully the redirect wasn’t too painful. I won’t get into specifics on the reasons why or anything because you probably don’t care that much to know. If you truly want to know, ask me.

As some things stay the same, I have to say that The Mars Volta have put out a fantastic album. I miss At the Drive-In, too, but this along with Sparta makes me quite happy.

You should understand that I work at a radio station. It’s something that I have wanted to do since I was in the neighborhood of twelve years old. I can’t tell you how or why the bug bit me. It just did. And I had one of those things happen today where I remember being a little kid and having that moment reflect on where my life is today. How I grew up in a small town with probably the best hardware store on the face of the earth. Still housed to this day in a early 1900’s building, it’s run by some of the most incredible people you could ever meet. It’s that aspect that makes it great, not the selection. Odd to speak so highly of a store like that, but I’m sure there are things that you became attached to in your life that you can relate.

They always had the radio on when you walked in. It just gives the place an atmosphere. It’s hard to describe. Often, it was tuned to the AM side of the dial, usually to the local NPR affiliate. A flash of my memory and I can recall running up to the store just as a horrible thunderstorm was rolling into town. Dad and I had to grab something from them before they closed and get home before we were caught by the weather. The radio was crackling like a sparkler when we walked in. The AM band tends to do that when the sky is about to release. To this day, that still sends a chill up my spine to hear that over the speakers.

Somehow, I can remember thinking, “What causes that?” I wanted to know more. The announcer alone can tell you about the impending weather, but other garble and whistles within a frequency can add to the impact of what the atmosphere is doing above your head. Dad would always do his best to explain it to me, and some times I got it. I truly believe that was the day that it bit. I just didn’t know it. Oddly enough, I now work for the same station that they listen to all the time at that same little hardware store.