It’s cold as hell out. It’s Tuesday morning in the middle of the night. By Wednesday, we’re looking at a high of -12. The three or four of you could probably use something to read as you stay home from school, work, volunteering, driving around, hanging out at the mall, playing tennis, going to the library, shopping at Strack & Van Til’s. The list is long of the things you cannot do right now.
It’s that cold and that snowy. I get some of the first notifications of upcoming school closings. My inbox is full with messages from superintendents. Most schools are closing for the next three days, including Hammond, which rarely closes.
The snow sure is
Punctual, dear.
Here it's January
and everything's white, pure,
Covered in cold.
I stood outside yesterday on Indianapolis Boulevard in a winter wonderland and gave school closings on the radio and TV. It’s a beautiful thing when it’s snowing and I’m on Facebook Live and radio at the same time. It makes me want to sing and dance, which I do. It just happens. I’ll be doing it again in a few hours.
There's danger in
taking shortcuts.
You might get there quicker
But lose stuff on the way.
You can do it.
But I’m bewildered these days. We’ve had some incredible accomplishments in the family and at WJOB in the past few days. And I’ve had a couple of disappointments. Although the stated purpose of this blog is to detail what it’s like to live a life of local radio, I just don’t feel like detailing it tonight. I’ll wake up in a few hours and hold people’s hands through a blizzard and a deep freeze. That’s my job. Shut up and do it.
Not gonna write
about flowers.
Fruits on a table fart,
portraits always stifle.
Move, goddamit.
But I do have some poems for you. In the middle of the night when it’s zero degrees out, all you get is little ditties snatched from the pocket of Dr. Reefy's lab coat.
It makes me sick,
Too much, at least.
Lumbering across snow…
Won't stop, this ugly beast,
Old Man Winter.
Falling, falling,
Someone catch me.
There is a pit of snakes,
Darkness, alligators,
Or just plain hell.
Mistakes, Errors,
They follow me.
Concrete gutter slumber,
A bouncing ball sideways.
We all must pay.
The center can't
hold tomorrow
Together. Divided,
we fall like plastic toys
on a headboard.
You want some more? They’re like a runny nose.
Speaking of snot, it seems like everyone and their brother has had this nasty cold. You know how you can tell that it’s nasty? Even Johnny Leary is down with it.
I went into Giovanni’s restaurant the other day and started talking to the owner, Mary Leary. She’s married to Johnny, my childhood chump.
“So where’s your deadbeat husband?”
“Oh, he’s been sick with this nasty cold.”
“Yeah, it’s been going around. It’s pretty bad.”
“It sure is. You know my husband. He never stops. And twice this week he came home from work at 1pm and went to bed. That’s not like him.”
It’s a nasty cold at a nasty time of year. At least there’s shards of paper snatched from Dr. Reefy’s lab coat.
Without you, me,
I crave alone.
A wolf without a pack
Prancing to hell and back,
Looking to kill.
Indiana,
a state of mine.
Mint fields, slag heaps, racing,
heroin and hardwood.
But not gays. Why?
Age threatens me.
It hints of death.
I'd like to know what gives,
how it all reconciles,
Before I die.
Solitude with
Somberness sucks.
But being alone by
Rejecting the masses
Brings quiet joy.
The mystery
propels us, fool.
The sun comes out, the moon,
butterflies, baboon.
What's it all mean?
Mr. Brankin
took a spankin'
from a pretty girl.
"Rush. Out. Go. Now. Before
My wife gets home."
On Saturday night, we broadcasted three things live simultaneously.
Alexis and I were in New York City, so the WJOB team put together these broadcasts without my help. It’s a cool thing to watch a team come together. It’s happening. We’re creating a TV, radio and podcasting network that is good and pure and beautiful. Acceptance of it, however, is not happening the way I think it should. I’m getting impatient. So good night.
The chanticleer,
His chandelier,
three toads and an osprey
all say that you are queer.
Is that the truth?
The snow sure is
Punctual, dear.
Here it's January
and everything's white, pure,
Covered in cold.
I stood outside yesterday on Indianapolis Boulevard in a winter wonderland and gave school closings on the radio and TV. It’s a beautiful thing when it’s snowing and I’m on Facebook Live and radio at the same time. It makes me want to sing and dance, which I do. It just happens. I’ll be doing it again in a few hours.
There's danger in
taking shortcuts.
You might get there quicker
But lose stuff on the way.
You can do it.
But I’m bewildered these days. We’ve had some incredible accomplishments in the family and at WJOB in the past few days. And I’ve had a couple of disappointments. Although the stated purpose of this blog is to detail what it’s like to live a life of local radio, I just don’t feel like detailing it tonight. I’ll wake up in a few hours and hold people’s hands through a blizzard and a deep freeze. That’s my job. Shut up and do it.
Not gonna write
about flowers.
Fruits on a table fart,
portraits always stifle.
Move, goddamit.
But I do have some poems for you. In the middle of the night when it’s zero degrees out, all you get is little ditties snatched from the pocket of Dr. Reefy's lab coat.
It makes me sick,
Too much, at least.
Lumbering across snow…
Won't stop, this ugly beast,
Old Man Winter.
Falling, falling,
Someone catch me.
There is a pit of snakes,
Darkness, alligators,
Or just plain hell.
Mistakes, Errors,
They follow me.
Concrete gutter slumber,
A bouncing ball sideways.
We all must pay.
The center can't
hold tomorrow
Together. Divided,
we fall like plastic toys
on a headboard.
You want some more? They’re like a runny nose.
Speaking of snot, it seems like everyone and their brother has had this nasty cold. You know how you can tell that it’s nasty? Even Johnny Leary is down with it.
I went into Giovanni’s restaurant the other day and started talking to the owner, Mary Leary. She’s married to Johnny, my childhood chump.
“So where’s your deadbeat husband?”
“Oh, he’s been sick with this nasty cold.”
“Yeah, it’s been going around. It’s pretty bad.”
“It sure is. You know my husband. He never stops. And twice this week he came home from work at 1pm and went to bed. That’s not like him.”
It’s a nasty cold at a nasty time of year. At least there’s shards of paper snatched from Dr. Reefy’s lab coat.
Without you, me,
I crave alone.
A wolf without a pack
Prancing to hell and back,
Looking to kill.
Indiana,
a state of mine.
Mint fields, slag heaps, racing,
heroin and hardwood.
But not gays. Why?
Age threatens me.
It hints of death.
I'd like to know what gives,
how it all reconciles,
Before I die.
Solitude with
Somberness sucks.
But being alone by
Rejecting the masses
Brings quiet joy.
The mystery
propels us, fool.
The sun comes out, the moon,
butterflies, baboon.
What's it all mean?
Mr. Brankin
took a spankin'
from a pretty girl.
"Rush. Out. Go. Now. Before
My wife gets home."
On Saturday night, we broadcasted three things live simultaneously.
- Valparaiso at Munster, boys basketball, in streaming video. Purdue-bound Brandon Newman was supposed to headline this game locally and around the state, as we of course broadcasted it in video on the IHSAA TV network. Newman, for whatever, didn’t play. It was still a good game – Munster won – but you get the feeling it would have been a much closer game if Newman had played. Don’t worry. These two teams could meet in Regionals.
- Andrean at Bishop Noll, boys basketball. – the Catholic wars continue, with Andrean winning this one. It turned out to be a really close game. Carruthers and the big sophomore for Andrean are a good outside-inside punch that was too much for BNI. We ran this game in video, two cameras, on the IHSAA TV network.
- Drake at Valparaiso, men’s basketball – That’s right. We did a division 1 basketball game… but only on AM and FM radio. Sam Michel and Ben Wood announced this game. Valparaiso has joined the WJOB team to get the word out that they are “the Region’s Division 1 basketball team.” This is the tag line what we say over and over during the broadcasts. This game featured not only local kids on the Valpo team, but also Wilkins (Merrillville) and Anthony and Tremell Murphy (Griffith). The Region natives on Drake were the deciding factor in beating the Region’s division 1 team. It was on WJOB radio, AM and FM, and it was beautiful.
Alexis and I were in New York City, so the WJOB team put together these broadcasts without my help. It’s a cool thing to watch a team come together. It’s happening. We’re creating a TV, radio and podcasting network that is good and pure and beautiful. Acceptance of it, however, is not happening the way I think it should. I’m getting impatient. So good night.
The chanticleer,
His chandelier,
three toads and an osprey
all say that you are queer.
Is that the truth?
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