Get to the point...

Dear Rob,



Thank you so much for taking the time to walk within the uncut jagged curves of a poet’s inquisitive imagination. Your thoughts and views are brilliant displays of why no new sun is lifted without having the opportunity to sit down with a writing instrument…an exercise that’s required not one but nearly two decades of daily discipline.



Your biggest concern was somewhat unusual…most see flight in the visions offered, meaning all too often I speak six clouds higher than their nearest touch. My sister Susan and close friend Maggie accuse the writer in me of having some of the worst grammar mistakes they’ve ever seen.



Just like the acrylic paints that fall onto my blizzard white canvas…I keep walking.



Writing has the strength to take your imagination farther than one whose nose falls into the well edited heart felt drama of an incredibly cool vampire love story, mind challenging murder mystery or pages blessed with revamping your motivation.

A teacher recently wrote to me, “Your new book and subject matter are fine but once you’ve completed it we need to put a better landscape on your word placement so the masses will better understand the true purpose of your writing.”



I keep walking forward…slang is slang and no two people slang the same and if they do music nerds call it harmony.



Your question Rob fascinates me because it deals with an avenue of discussion faced nearly a billion times during a single thirty year radio career…too much talk. Get to the point, hit me upside the head and let it sink in.



I talk so much in 1992 Mike the program director walked into my on-air studio and slammed a dictionary in front of me, “Look up two words! Concise and brevity! Learn them! Live them! Breathe them!”



I couldn’t survive on Twitter. The freaky company that’s devised a full proof plan to expose thought provoking walkers doesn’t allow me enough space to challenge your space. I figure if you’re going to take up room on this giant blue marble, you might as well bring something to the table. While your life and style embraces short to the point two sentence earth movers…I on the other hand have been hired to ask, “Are you sure? Have you tried this? Whoa that was cool! What’s next? Do you know how you’re going to get there? Sure, a punch to the nose is a great way to slow down an attacker but did you know that doing 100 pushups a day will make your arms and mind much quicker?”



How do you pen that out using just two sentences? Suddenly I’m starring in a silent movie with Charlie Chaplin where pictures don’t require too much thought because the rest of the body is getting what it really wants…entertainment.



Wait! Wait! I can do this!



We fear of losing our jobs everyday but ignore the fears of losing our lives through alcoholism, drug abuse and texting while driving.



Cough! Cough! Somebody please get me some water! Holy cow! I need air! For goodness sakes it’s only Monday, the second official day of summer and the poet had to land this one on your single unevenly paved miniature eye airport. Give me a break! Too deep! TMI! TMI!



The most important part of a newspaper or magazine story is the first paragraph…once through it, time to line the birdcage. In the eleventh grade Mrs. Eschler constantly grinded in our thick get me out of here sculls, “Everything that follows the first paragraph is for those who want to do something about it. As a writer, it’s your job to create action.”



Nice! A little Pow! Zow! And Batman Bam!



Ronald Reagan wasn’t the greatest communicator to hold down the Oval Office…he was the forefather of the Sound Bite Generation. Technology and our need not to put importance on listening to the entire story drove his ratings through the roof. A good example was his horribly misunderstood blooper where he slipped on a pair of radio station earphones and like every person that walks into my studio words of wackiness fell from the lips of Mr. Reagan in the shape of bombing the Soviet Union. That’s the part the world heard…not the entire set up and the moments that followed.



This Sunday I turn 47…the worst mistake of my life was not taking the time to get to know my parents. I elected to run away from home at 18 and chase a career that’s gained me no ground on a map that symbolizes an inch equaling a thousand miles. If I had taken the time to listen to the stepfathers fewest of all fewer than few words…I might have been taught the greatest lesson in life, “Less is more.”



Thank you Rob for being open, upfront and honest about the writer within who seems to toss out too much thought. I’ve created a giant word dump. Whoa…a new place to play with my tiny Tonka trucks! This dump is so huge it’s a wonder the city has started taxing us. Oh great…way to go DJ boy!



arroecollins@clearchannel.com



Wait! I can’t leave you hanging! What if all you do is fear your job but never take the time to put focus on the things that could steal real air and real laughs from your life? What’s the best way to survive? I took that question straight to a Great Grandmaster of Martial Arts who softly said, “A man or woman who fears losing their job while finding no worry in what they put inside their mind, body and soul is searching. Have the courage to stand up for what you believe is right. What you hold in materialistic value today could be gone tomorrow but when you locate what truly makes you smile the personal waves leading to and from happiness won’t be consumed by false highs.”