There’s this thing that happens once you get your fingers around the microphone. It’s a sickness, an affliction.
You can’t let go. You somehow become attached to the microphone and when you don’t have it in your hand, you ache for it. When someone takes it away, you hate that person. When you go silent, you feel empty inside.
I have it, too. Of course, it is for now my microphone, and I can pretty much choose when I have it in my hand. But when I don’t have it in my hand I feel lost and bewildered.
It’s 1:40 in the middle of the night, and every once in a while you hear something that wakes you up worrying.
Alexis and I were lying around watching the nightly dose of Trump, and this former head of the CIA came onto Anderson Cooper. He said what is going on in America is not all that unlike what he has seen in less developed countries.
The goal is to write Another Thousand Words every day about My Radio Life. That’s a rather bold objective. But then again, fortune favors the bold.
That’s not something I just thought of. It comes from the movie, “The Founder.” It’s the story of Ray Kroc, who screwed the McDonald brothers on his way to fame and fortune… and someone else’s wife.
Big deal, right?
Do you remember that scene in “The Revenant” when someone asks Leonardo DiCaprio if he’s afraid of dying?
“No,” he says. “I already did it.”
That’s how I feel about radio.
“Aren’t you afraid that you’re gonna be made obsolete?”
I run radio stations and a streaming video network in Hammond, Indiana, and write this blog.