Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Whatever happened to Red Rover Red Rover?

Remember the days when getting in trouble with the parental figures constantly landed you face to face in a puddle of the same old hard driving speech, “If your friend Simon told you to jump…you would.”



To which you’d sharply reply, “No I wouldn’t! I have better control of my life!”



Where along the paths of choice and bad decisions do we grasp onto the confidence required to halt the process of listening? I may not have been a drug user or wild teen breaking into homes and stealing bikes in high school but when it came to checking my parents into the insane asylum…nobody could do it better than me, because I was the black sheep nobody suspected.



I stole the dollar from mom’s purse to purchase my first record. Playing that record over and over opened my imagination to a world of constant performance. It became my addiction to be on stage and like all things we’re attracted to, it’s amazing what we’ll steal as well as sell to continue feeding that incredible wow, wow wowy.



In essence, the book I wrote last year Conversation with the Devil is based loosely on that single moment that fed the flow of over-confidence into the veins of do it or lose it. The man in the black hat stopped by a radio station studio to reclaim what originally belonged to him and the Disc Jockey was completely taken back by such an accusation. And don’t you think I’m not reminded of it every Wednesday morning when the pastors and spiritual leaders of several congregations come into my studio to record their affirmations.



31 years of radio that started with Simon telling me where to find a buck to purchase The Streak from Ray Stevens. Of all the songs! Why didn’t I wait a couple more musical seasons and latch onto Hotel California? I could look better at the gates of Heaven and Hell holding a classic.



Simon told me to jump and I did.



Kind of like Alice who found it fascinating to chase a scurrying bunny through the trees then straight down a hole. Once the tummy tingling sensation of falling settled, she calmly picked herself up, walked around the room of locked doors. Surely there has to be a key! Once discovered Alice struggles to fit through an itty bitty tinny tiny door and can’t. Discouraged, it becomes a frantic moment searching for an answer…only to find a bottle that reads: Drink me. No directions. No doctor! Not even a slight guilt to hold her back.



She drank the Kool Aid.

Alice listened to Simon and jumped. Being the world’s biggest Johnny Depp fan I totally get why she jumped because without a doubt and absolutely no thought poured into a cup of common sense I’d drink the tea too. But that’s a different story for a different day and like always we’re late, we’re late; we’re late for a very important date.



The moment Alice reaches for the bottle and gulps it down like a drunk begging to hold a long term buzz with no hangover—it became clear to me how perfectly rounded Tim Burton’s fruit is…the master of dark and cartoonish has painted a portrait that describes 99.9999% of who, what, where, when, how and why we are the way we are during these days that make up the third month in the year two thousand ten.



Warren Buffet says you need to buy stocks and mutual funds. You do. Jimmy Buffett says you need more beer. You do. The lunch time buffet features more food than your Momma’s Thanksgiving feast…its screaming, “Eat! Eat! Eat!” And so you do.



Hmmm that flew over your head. Let me try that again: Your boss says do it or you’re fired. So you do. Your kids tell you to do it or they’re making more noise than the airport on Christmas day. You do it. The image in the mirror at the mall store claims $300 for a beautiful dress will break the bank and make you late on many payments but you live only once…do it now because there are three invisible people behind you that want the same dress and they’re all you’re size. Yes! You do it!



Where along the paths of choice and bad decisions do we grasp onto the confidence required to halt the process of listening?



What constitutes a bad decision? In the world of birds, frogs and snakes…although I’ve never done it…one who participates in the celebration of watered down hops and other green leafy things might be looked upon as being the king of loving Mother Earth with no need to step into a world of man made chemically created escapes the FDA has labeled free and clear of harm and destruction.



I’ve been blasted with winter sickness for seven incredibly long and way way out there strong weeks. Been to three different doctors and a specialist and under their leadership I’m on my fourth antibiotic laced with steroids…and the sickness is worse than what it was when it began. Simon said jump and I did.



Will any of these highly paid medically trained imaginations ever look back and feel guilty about ripping off the people that trusted them? I can barely look into the eyes of a visiting minister knowing the reason why I’m in a radio station studio is because I swiped a dollar bill from my mother to purchase The Streak and now I’m worried about whether I’m wasting a lot of energy on something that should’ve been forgotten a billion light years ago.



The web pages you surf say click…do you? Because Simon told you to jump. Recession? Unemployment? High gas prices? Veterinarians who create problems with your pet and make you pay for them instantly in the name of keeping their doors open? Are these the worst of times?

Simon didn’t say jump…

So we keep walking toward a horizon rumored to be there.



Lord have mercy…I need a Starbucks…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

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