Amazing cornbread

​Thank you, Mrs.
Davis, for the
amazing cornbread. When
you take off your makeup
at night, I watch.

It’s the middle of summer. Fireworks go off every night. It sounds like gunfire. I wonder if someone’s been shot, if they’re ok, if there’s a news story I should cover.

It's the 4th weekend. I’ve been going to festivals, barbecues, golf, lunch, drinks and Alexis and I watch movies from our bed. We used to go to the movies at Town Theater in Highland. That and every other independent movie house in America has  closed.

Now you go to Showplace, which for the past ten years hasn’t been bad. They have good popcorn and the theaters are clean. But the movies are changing. It used to be that you could watch a good drama at Showplace. Now all they have is blockbuster remakes, horror flicks and kids movies. Good independent stuff has gone to Netflix and Prime. You watch it at home.

In between July 4th stuff, I’ve been working on building the website. The people at Blueframe Tech, Seth and Josh, are amazing. I told them I want to break the WJOB world down into “channels.” I believe that businesses and cities and towns and any other organization you can think of will one day be its own source of media. It’s already happened with individuals. Go to Facebook right now. Millions of people are telling you what’s going on in the world. They’re the media.

Businesses do it, too, but to a lesser extent. They’re shy and reluctant about telling you how great they are. They’re afraid to create their own content. They’d rather pay to “advertise” next to other people’s content. It's easier.

“I want infrastructure so businesses can use us to create and distribute their content,” I told Seth in a rather long conversation
.
“Okay. Hmm,” Seth said. And he built the infrastructure. Mrs. Davis would be proud.

Thank you, Mrs.
Davis, for the
thoughts in my head. We’ve done
a lot of things at the
foot of my bed.

I’ve been working into the night on the infrastructure that Seth gave me. It involves these “channels.” This is another of my ideas that may or may not work out. Mark F., who has been listening to me for 15 years, has a good way of wording it when I try something new and it doesn’t work.

“Spend another million, Dedelow,” he texts.

On the radio side, we’re 1967 all over again. There’s no escaping it. Part of it’s political. The whole world around is one side or the other. People who call in, who host for me when I’m gone (which is a lot these days), who you watch on the telly at night – they’re all screaming for one side or the other. Do you hate Trump or not? You got a place to go either way.

We really do listen. All Region Rats carry weight and hopefully this comes out on the radio. We are a throwback radio station. Few do what we do anymore. If you keep wearing bell bottoms, they’re bound to come back.

Mrs. Davis,
I know you are
lonely. One day, I’ll take
that away. I’ll be your
one and only.

It never happened. Mrs. Davis was too old and too married. But I still admire the sheen of her slip as she saunters at night. I could see her bedroom window from my bedroom window. That made all the difference. I wonder if it would matter to her if we did oldtime radio or modern hate radio. What’s it gonna be, big boy?

That was a different time. Hot summers meant sleeping outside in the backyard in a canvas tent that smelled like old tennis shoes and sweat. I never slept well in that tent. I liked my bed. I liked my window.

The question with media is – where from here? I have spent dozens of hours this four-day weekend creating “channels” for the people who do shows on WJOB. When you look around, it’s a lot of people. What does that mean?

Either it’s a quirk in the system, or we’re on to something. Or it’s neither. just another way to spend a figurative million. Mark is right. Sometimes it’s better to just buy a motorcycle and get lost on the roads around Rolling Prairie every Sunday. You’re not gonna figure out media. By the time you do, it’s already changed. It's all yelling and screaming. Dignity’s overrated. The one constant is the nape of Mrs. Davis’s neck as she tilts back to remove makeup. Hallelujah.