Monday, October 31, 2011

Halloween teaches you to face the beast!

The average Joe, Moe or Arroe on Halloween Day, not a race to place but a mid-fall nestle next to a different pace; never a need to liberate but an agreement to feed not the desire but willingness to paint without acrylic a single word or several haunted by the lack thereof.

To a writer…silence is the beast.

Assumption locks the passerby onto an street named “Easy to Bleed” when in fact the man, woman or child holding the writing instrument can’t explain the arrival of phrases sent through the veins of empty spaces; for it’s the eyes that convince the prints left by fingertips that the heart requires music but not what radio plays on dusty workdays when being set free would be the best way all too many sell out for.

The cavern’s cut from the soul of a thinker devours ink like BBQ sauce cuddles the ribs tickling your tummy on any given Sunday. To quickly wipe from sight hides the strength of what writers exchange for the opportunity is to do nothing more than bleed like raindrops parachuting from a cloudless sky yet it caught your wandering eye.

To choose to write is the core of my laughter.

Authors, lyricists, sports reporters and Presidential speech makers aren’t gifted with options; they do to do and when done some quickly run. To write is the only air you might get to tonight. To scribble like a child sometimes larger than hands on a clock doesn’t purify the reason but soothes the center of a region never spoke of because life on the outside never understands the presence of word shapes; until put in their language. To which I’ve never understood so I rely on proof readers to calmly invite the way of the poet to seek better ways to communicate.

If only you could see the way it was meant to be! Not really; too many have made up new names for me. Great friends believe my biggest faults are found in my writing because you can’t see the expressions that create wrinkles in my forehead while curving the tips of my cheeks resembling a middle aged smile from the heels of realism and not taught by radio program directors that preached, “It’s not what you say…it how you say it…” so I fake laugh a lot!

That’s my Halloween haunt! My laugh is no better than a beady eyed witches with a big hairy lazy faced werewolf that’s been redesigned by a Twilight writer to hate Vampires.

In Batman Jack Nicholson asked, “Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”

He, she or “it” that swiped it from thin air while the ghost was looking elsewhere was honestly asking, “Have you ever found yourself in a horrifying situation when no one is around to assist?”

Completing a writing project! Ouch!

No doctor not even a brain surgeon will touch the gritty edges of where the writer has been.

It’s completely natural to want to hide!

Casting thoughts like stones skipping through the morning sunrise of an even flowing stream or lake is but the fantasy.

Writing as a profession, hobby, game or shape of communication makes funny waves inside invisible days for travelers commanding to be covered by fleece blankets that reached outward at Wal-Mart begging shoppers to take them home for a self deserved moment of aloneness.

Lost or disconnected isn’t any place, rhyme or reason for the reader to think the one sharing is in a safe place; even Darth Vader became weak. Obe One Kanobe sacrificed his journey for Luke to grow.

Artist Way author Julia Cameron was the first to speak directly to me about the middle of the night itch that couldn’t be scratched; the ill feeling of never reaching complete; the emptiness that Krispy Kreme’s could never fill or the horrid delivery of learning all that energy wasted was because being a perfectionist is the wizard holding the gun.

Julia didn’t pour great wisdom into a coffee cup or open a gate for enlightened feelers to skate across frozen empires offering tingles like a weekend beer buzz.

Julia wrote, “Forgive yourself.”

You have the right to write.

At no other time during the chapters of world history has writing been more accepted than during The Great Social Media Movement.

Halloween costumes will never change.

The end result of not writing is far greater the scare than something weird and freaky crazy out there.

The best part about writing every day is holding the keys to a vehicle called “Unknown.”

Not knowing what I’m going to write about doesn’t scare me nor do the images of a faces I’ll never meet. It’s not important during an age of big banking money, 3-D movies and a video game kingdom that teaches teens to kill on our streets then we spend the rest of lives denying it.

What matters is the mystery.

Julia talks about painting a room. Take not what you know but what you have and share it with someone whose choice was to stop in for a brief moment.

To my left is a painting of John Lennon and his creative connections; it’s natural to think, assume and pretend to properly put into place reasons for such a painting; it’s a radio station studio; having the Beatles present is expected. Until you look beyond the writer and take note; four separate paths that happened to make harmony. It teaches me to trust new ideas from outside sources. But to write that will earn me an email, “Thank you Casey Kasum!”

It’s Halloween! Face your beast!

Friday, October 28, 2011

Happy! Have an incredible... What can we get away with?

Growing up in an open door Baptist Church in south central Montana came with only one rule: do everything you can to get people in the seats on Sunday. That meant wacky marketing! The most memorable was a goldfish eating peer pressure contest where the class leader vowed to down the innocent fins of a water creature if his class didn’t increase by ten by month’s end.

Being a lover of all living things including wild weeds that grow between the cracks in the driveway; little Arroe hit the road like a Girl Scout hawking cookies. I sold the message of that church before long haired ministering became cool. For it; the goldfish survived another eight years in the nice warm larger than life 50 gallon comforts of my stepfather’s living room.

I don’t think the church would survive the constant commands of today’s political correctness. Although Pastor White meant well…the healing methods of sharing the word would quickly come under attack by other makers of visions and decisions.

Which is why it’s so difficult to talk about Halloween, Christmas, July 4th and Columbus Day; in reality the Dude that guaranteed his queen something special didn’t discover anything! I did read that his shipmates carried with them several Chinese Crested dogs whose body temperature is always 104 degrees. But they ate them at the end of the journey. No wonder they earn ugliest dog of the year contests all the time! Humans won’t eat ugly things!

My neighbor Betty discovered a copperhead snake colony over the summer…I’m thinking she should get something for potentially saving the life of multiple dogs and cats that might have nosed their way into a situation they couldn’t get out of.

I find Christmas to be an incredible subject to discuss because I celebrate it every day. Yeah, now locate someone who thinks the same. Like birthdays…Native American studies showcase a day of celebration not for the one born on that day but for the mother who gave life to; which is why you always hear me say, “Call your mother!”

Halloween seems to be losing strength. Although adults party like rock stars those holding the reins of the future are kept in locked cars. The best part about being a kid was once a year we were given permission to stay up late while walking way, way, way outside the parental boarders of protection to collect candy from strangers.

What in God’s name were Mom and Dad thinking? It wasn’t a different world there was just less social media to get the word out.

I totally grasp the lawmaker’s introduction of making Halloween the final Saturday of every October; fewer drunk drivers and the economy is given one last push before the bigger more marketed holiday’s steal what little cash is left. Yet…October 31st is the Christmas of the sugar rush world. To take it away is like having to reinvent the classroom globe.

“Mrs. Smith what is the Soviet Union? Why does it say East Germany?”

How foolish of me to think this way—Google Map is always up to date you freak!

Attending public school it was never discussed why some did or didn’t or why others stayed away on Thanksgiving lunch day. I’d say a little prayer hoping all was ok. Today, I’d be tossed into the councilor’s office and reprimanded for publically bowing my head. No judgment! To get along is my song.

To be is to be to not to be doesn’t mean take someone on. Just be because being is what makes you unique. I feel sorry for the talking Elmo’s on the shelf at Wal-Mart; nobody wants to be the last one picked even if the red fur is a little green. It happens when you’re best friend is Kermit!

No matter what day you’ve decided to pull off a celebration this weekend; be it to spook or cheer on the Carolina Panthers…if there’s one thing we’ve learned from college sports fans Ohio State and the Florida Gators might seem like bitter creatures on the open fields of play but in the end we’re still part of this thing called the U.S.A.

Now I’ve offended blog readers in Canada and Latvia! My South Korean collectors of thought are tossing their Ipads in the trash. How dare I do that to passers of time in India, Slovenia, the Netherlands, Russia, Germany and according to the latest stats 260 Denmark-ian’s. Is that a word? If you’re from North or South Carolina you’re Carolinians but being from Montana they’d trip me in the mall for saying Montanian.

Happy! Day! Goooooooo world!

Wow! If I had bigger teeth you’d think I was the perfectly pitched up positively driven lost brother of the Osmond family.

Ho hum…Merry Halloween everyone!

Thursday, October 27, 2011

If today ended up being....

Is author Seth Godin on to something?

The world’s lingering bad economic conditions could be an addiction to “thinking” things are going to return to normal.

Godin points to a one time monster sized music industry that’s totally ignoring Itunes, MP3 players and smart phones connected to I Heart Radio; writers, producers and masters of marketing are convinced that compact discs are the money maker.

Microsoft was said, “Google isn’t a real company. It’s a house of cards.”

I downloaded a video of Sean Lennon occupying Wall Street…the Rollingstone Magazine description clearly stated John Lennon’s son was going to sing Madonna’s Material Girl. What viewers got was a behind the scenes view of the occupation that looked more like a wedding than a demonstration. The speaker would blurt out five words, the crowd would repeat him. Another five words, the crowd repeated. Wait! Another five words…here come the same words.

By the time I reached Sean Lennon singing Material Girl the payoff was a famous man’s son singing the hook over and over kind of like John doing, “All we are saying is give peace a chance.”

“Living in a martial world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world…”

Please write to me when you’ve been moved to do something about our future.

“Living in a martial world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world, living in a material world…”

Are we addicted to thinking that things will return to normal?

What is normal? I was a newlywed during Ronald Reagan’s bout with bad economic luck. Normal was being able to afford Kraft Macaroni and Cheese versus generic. Normal in 2011 is returning to an overpriced market where bowling in uptown

Charlotte is $50 an hour. Normal is the divorce rate hitting 52%. Normal is KFC returning to Kentucky Fried Chicken only introduce a new dish blessed with fried chicken, steaming hot mashed potatoes and bacon chunks on top.

Seriously? Do we truly want to go backwards to locate what drove us to the party? If we go back there’s not enough noise in the world to convince Wal-Mart not to take over.

If we’re going back to find happiness we might as well wake up the Bee Gee’s and do Disco again. Call up Harrison Ford and put him in the front seat of American Graffiti. George Lucas who? Monica did what? Not on my President’s dime!

I get it! But let’s not reinvent it. The age of growing forward is what shapes our roots that run deep. This year for Christmas why can’t we just be happy about having each other? Talk about an incredible inactive game! I ask a question and you respond. I throw a ball and you catch it. Who invented this game?

When the body comes under attack from the flu or a bad cold the last thing I’m reaching for are the moments before the system was weakened. I stopped drinking in my teens not because it was an illegal buzz but the hangovers kept me from discovering new beginnings.

I love the idea that hundreds of thousands are protesting around the world against big business but what’s the point if you have no listeners? CEO’s, GM’s and coworker Eddie the butt kisser are focused on tomorrow.

Pictures from a past last forever because the future holds no truth until after it’s happened.

If you truly are disgusted with the way big business America has failed its nation of worker bees the one voice you have that can be louder than protesters on Wall Street are the vocals inside your heart. When you regain control of the life you want to life…never treat people the way you were. Be fair. Be loyal. Be dedicated, determined and for the love of God have some integrity.

Now go out there and score me a point, maybe two, ten or twelve. Win this ballgame with class! We are America! We love the bright colors that shine red white and blue! We succeed in areas other nations become weak! We love burgers! We can’t get enough of Super Bowl Sunday! Christmas is every day! Being on this soil is the greatest gift you’ll ever be handed! So stand up and believe in the threads that hold your family photo album together. There’s more incredible memories to make and it requires your participation!

I will always believe in you first… 

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Hahahaha laughing at you until numb.

Difficult to digest are the number of years that have passed since taking my final step out of high school; yet I still hear my mother’s strong voice clearing the path of debris brought on by a fear of tests, unexplained shyness, a lack of interest in science and every other excuse used to keep from pulling my feet from beneath those warm Montana covers.

“It’s 7:30!”

I honestly believe I went to school so I wouldn’t hear my Mom’s out of tune vocal range. Why else would I set the alarm clock today and consistently beat it up before it blares its ear shattering zip, zing and pow into the arrival of a new sun?

I’m not bragging but having perfect attendance from the sixth grade to the eleventh was an accomplishment that continues to control the journey toward the horizon. Because of my mother’s passion to guarantee her children an education…the remnants of her values have poured onto the floor of every personality I’ve become thirty one year’s deeper into the chapters.

She didn’t accept excuses. Nor do I, which is why it’s extremely difficult to support the protesting voices attempting to land a giant dent or ding in big business on Wall Street.

There are two sides of the fence; corporate mistreatment is accepted behavior. Why is anyone shocked? Have you read Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee?

Standing on street corners fighting the system is what kids do when deciding that today is the moment when going to school is the last opportunity requiring a need to be achieved.

The people on Wall Street aren’t representing anyone but themselves. Being an exempt employee isn’t a freedom or luxury to have insurance but every reason to use what little the company is willing to hand out because you’re going to get sick; some days worse but look who still shows up in the trenches.

Teddy Roosevelt once said, “People are always neglecting something they can do and trying to do something they can’t do.”

Rollingstone Magazine clearly prints out the five areas that would get the attention of big business and none of it includes standing on corners chanting like a Chicago Cubs fan hoping to win a world series. The magazine is truthful when exposing a need to hit big business where it counts…in the pocket.

This might be the reason why the Saturday after Thanksgiving November 26th has been officially declared by our United States lawmakers as being National Small Business Day. It’s been designed to convince consumers to buy small, buy local and make our economy work.

I sat up proud and began to cheer like a wild monkey at the city zoo located somewhere other than Ohio! Then I realized National Small Business Day is sponsored by this country’s largest big business corporations.


Ok Wall Street protestors…the ball is in your court!

Convince this country not to wait until Saturday the 26th of November to buy small business goods. Hit Corporate America in the gut on Black Friday!

Ken Keys believes, “To be upset over what you don’t have is to waste what you do have.”

Big business has connected this generation to unheard of amounts of technology carefully crafted to make life easier. We’ve traveled farther in the past one hundred years than any other time in history.

To attain simplicity and share it!

Now we’ve chosen to lie in bed and complain about having to wake up and go to school.

Henri Frederic said, “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was among the things only hoped for.”

I love the idea that thousands of voices are beginning to be heard inside the makings of our government controlled environment. Having the freedom to speak out is a privilege put into play by every man and woman that’s dedicated their life to protecting our United States constitution.

But wouldn’t the true protest be to stop buying big business so they’ll quit financing politicians running for office in November? Your freedom of speech comes with no power inside a business world where you’re told what to say, do and how to react and if someone from the media approaches you the only answer shared is no comment.

Billions will be spent to convince you how to vote. Was your vote heard during the primaries? Yeah that soccer game did seem a little more important. I know, 50% off at the mall won over the popular vote. Is it possible that those making laws closely work with big business owners to divert your attention? Billions are spent to take your mind off the game.

Who’s running against Mayor Fox in Charlotte?

I’m out of bed and this new day has begun! I write to not to right but give you something to think about during days when everything you own is nothing.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Your boss pays the bills ultimately you pay the price...

Losing weight has always been a private issue. I’m easily embarrassed and feel incredibly uncomfortable. Compliments fall short of reaching my ears because I don’t know how to say, “Thank you,”

I feel as if I owe them a compliment back, “Um, the colorful fall leaves in the trees dance like angels kissing the horizons summer’s edge.”

I fall tremendously short by shifting the attention off me, “Maybe it’s you that’s losing weight and you’re seeing something new in everyone you meet.”

Is it selfish to wonder where they were when the last hole on the large leather belt was barely reached?

The number one reason why I’ll never be a true on-air radio talent is because I refuse to promote weight loss or fat reduction products.

Somewhere in the center of the message I’d pop on the guilt trip, “Are you doing sit ups? When was the last time you took on your heart and gave it room to live? While visiting the gym are you lost on the same treadmill speed as yesterday or have you challenged your legs to stop walking like a second grader?”

My first wife was horribly addicted to the concept of losing weight by way of shoving manmade products down her throat. I swam in daily nightmares watching as she destroyed a natural life.

I saw Jane Fonda so many times in my living room that as an on-air radio station prank I physically wrote a letter to her workout company asking that she pay part of the rent. They replied, “Thank you for being so incredibly loyal to our product. Don’t forget to share it with a neighbor!”

My friend Todd is a weight loss preacher. He’s dedicated his life to the value of helping hundreds set themselves free while building a better mind, body and soul without a single pill falling from his pocket. The foundation that which we all carry is no different than the engines that take us to and from work each morning. Ignore the oil and antifreeze and this winter something isn’t going to crank.

I won’t shove good health onto your daily diet. Winning is a choice and ultimately that decision must come from the core of your purpose for being.

I do plant seeds. They’re mental boogers for the mind to pick as a way to remind you to do butt crunches while sitting in a chair at work. Feel stress? Find a place to gift your thoughts with a set of ten sit ups, a round of pushups, squats or speedy walk around the building.

The believes no workday should go without personally designing a perimeter then walk it.

Right away the shy side of my multiple personalities begins to act up like a kid doped up on sugar, “You’ll never catch me in an act of regaining control of the limits of weight.” The choice is to run and hide. Once solitude is met; the journey begins. believes such perimeters are needed to lower blood pressure, improve moods while decreasing waistlines. Picking a perimeter adds variety because it motives the human desire to constantly discover new things.

Author Julia Cameron from Artist Way fame clearly paints the trail of a daily delivery to always include a short stroll because

it’s amazing what’s waiting for you outside those office windows.

Yesterday morning I felt the need to walk outside to the forest that surrounds my home only to instantly take note of a six point white tail buck staring at me. Without going all out totem on you…let’s just say it was the human ego that elected to leave the animal kingdom and through patience and a willingness to walk you’ll learn the wildly shaped and vividly colored eyes of a passerby has a lot more to say to you than smartphones, IPads and your neighbor Kevin whose impatiently waiting for the Panther’s to hit the football field.

Although I’ve guaranteed my dreams to stop chasing the color of a martial arts belt…the black belt path refuses to stop whispering. To hold true to this 2,000 year old lesson a third degree can’t be attained unless there is to be 10,000 sit ups inside a ten week period; 10,000 pushups, run 105 miles, fight 210 ninety second sparring rounds, perform 10,500 basic kicks and do each Tae Kwon Do form 1,500 times.

Martial arts is like radio…no moment passes that you don’t meet someone that’s done one or the other in college, high school or because there was nothing better to do. Sadly, both are taught by too many that think they know the truth.

I haven’t lost weight. I’ve gained knowledge.

Steal my art…

Thursday, October 20, 2011

To do or not to do or just give up and not move...

Actor/ Comedian Tim Allen is pulling off what Reality TV killed off on ABC. His new thirty minute sitcom Last Man Standing has latched on to 19 million new viewers.

You’d think getting back on the tube would be easy; after all Tim the Tool Man Taylor on Home Improvement became a household institution. ABC is owned by Disney; Mickey’s parent company captivated every age group with Toy Story’s one through a billion.

Welcome back or where the hell have you been?

If you’ve caught his most recent interviews he wastes no time talking about the struggle to climb back on the horse. Rather than fight it, it became his daily duty to shove acting aside.

If you stand still too long the world passes you by.

Julia Carney has a great quote, “I’m still not where I want to be but I’m not where I once was.”

I meet future Broadcaster’s everyday that want to replace Ace and TJ and John Boy and Billy tomorrow. Not three to six years. They’ve convinced themselves that this is a make it or break it moment and its all out gusto or its back to retail and Taco Bell they go.

Famed motivational speaker Dale Carnegie reminds us, “Don’t be afraid to give your best to what seemingly are the small jobs. Everything you conquer makes you stronger. If you do the little job well the bigger expectation will take care of itself.”

How many people do you meet on a weekly basis whose focus is on success and nothing less? Be it the top seller, greatest driver in the delivery department, the biggest muscles to lift the giant trash barrels to the fastest on the phones to convince donations to increase for your non-profit organization? It’s completely natural to be the over achiever and the under-deliverer. It’s another great moment in humbled sports history!

Helen Keller said, “I long to accomplish a great and noble task but it will be my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.”

Tim Allen is one of very few Hollywood actors that can say, “I was Santa Claus!”

Yet in his interviews he still comes across that he’s totally missed the ship on accepting personal success. In some people’s lives Buzz Lightyear is mightier than Superman. I better stop; look what happened to John Lennon when he casually told reporters about how the Beatles were more popular than the creator of Christmas.

Edmund Burke writes, “Nobody makes the greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could only do a little.”

Might that be the reason why the lads and lassies after Gen-X have bluntly been accused of being the laziest collection of future leaders born this side of the year zero? What makes that statement powerful is intern Chris from Western Carolina who says, “It’s sad but true!”

How can we fix it? Is it even broken?

David Storey might paint a different picture; the new generation might not be lazy after all, but rather best represent what happens to a growing imagination when there’s no confidence.

Seized from your grips from the overbearing decision makers of constantly growing companies has been the single most potent energy given to the human race…confidence. When you have it there’s always going to be success. When you are paid very little, given horrid insurance, teamed up with office leaders that micro manage you, the janitor and every ant and cricket that sneak in through the back door…the end result is going to be an extremely weak next generation.

If you aren’t confident you can’t teach someone to lead. If you don’t hold the reins of where you want to grow…why should there be a reason to try? If this is where the boss wants me to sit, I hope my butt doesn’t fall asleep because it’s gonna be tough to walk when I find the time to pick my dreams back up and start walking again.

Tim Allen is moving again. His eyes and voice tell a different tale. How dare a bigger than life Hollywood actor make his way back to ABC? It’s like taking twenty three steps backwards and in America we can’t seem to find a reason to invest in this policy so we stay unemployed even after the checks from the government stop coming in. Our only voice is to create protest groups that march on Wall Street.

It’s an extremely small start and should be looked upon as being a brilliant display of your freedom to speak. Dante Alighieri couldn’t have said it better when softly chanting, “From a little spark may burst a mighty flame.”

A great book to read is Believe You Can from John Mason. It truly is the fuel required to reignite the little engine that could.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Step up to the microphone and own the show...

Wow! They play rough at the top of the pyramid!

It’s completely politically in-correct to put faith in Winston Churchill’s quote, “Responsibility is the price of greatness.”

Within these modern ways forget Margaret Thatcher’s thunderous way, “If you want to cut your own throat don’t come to me for a bandage.”

How about Goethe, “Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean.”

According to martial arts Master Richard Andrew King if there are fingers to be pointed the act of doing so is degrading to all of us because it speaks directly to our lack of character.

Hit any newspaper or entertainment magazine website and it’s all spelled out: non-accountability has spread like wildfire in our culture.

Master King believes such actions have destroyed the nobility of man. We’ve lost the answer to this extremely simple question: What’s more important one’s character or one’s feelings?

Drug addiction, a passion for fruits turned into wine, overweight, heart disease…for those who don’t believe in evolution the proof is in the pudding! We’ve evolved into a nation of finger pointers. Who needs the other three when texting and accusing requires only one dangly thingy?

Master King believes its time grownup’s own up. At his school of Karate if a student is injured; it’s their fault. If the choice is to engage then you’ve made a decision to accept responsibility.

Is it tough love to own up?

If the best investment is to sink energy into self worth and dignity then owning up would be the best lesson learned correct? Who’s doing the teaching? To lead requires responsibility. To be responsible takes on the shape of being held accountable. 98% of my daily readers have already bolted from this website. Why are you still here?

Wait! Come back! We’ll talk about my stepfather Joe whopping me upside the think maker, “If you’re going to use that mouth in ways that upset people I’m only demonstrating what someone might do when you aren’t under my roof.”

If I were to ask him about it today he wouldn’t deny it took place. He’s got no problem owning up.

Which brings me to the protestors on Wall Street that continue to feel a need to barely be heard about Corporate America’s brutal treatment of this nation’s most creative generation. Gosh…you accepted the job. The snake you picked up was a rattler…um they bite and so does landing a great job. It comes with a price and now you want to protest it?

If enough hard working skill minded performers gather to build a product better than the trash Wal-Mart sells daily…that’s how you put a dent in the side of the big guy’s engine. Not with complaints and finger points. Just good old fashioned quality driven products.

I once got a swat from the Dean of Boys for starting at food fight at Riverside Jr High. Once my a** was set on fire I didn’t stand up accusing the decision maker of abusing my rights to speak freely with bad behavior. I remember standing at his desk and calmly whimpering, “I accept responsibility for the actions that took place.”

When you get bad ratings in radio…please stop blaming Lady Gaga, burned out Lionel Richie and a new group called Boone Doggie Fo Fo and take a look at your performance between the tracks. Oh wait…barely 1% of those in radio volunteer to do community involvement projects and yet the FCC requires that all broadcast outlets serve their local community or there can’t be a license renewal.

Martin Sheen accepted responsibility for Charlie’s crazy antics. Although it wasn’t his fault he and his son Emilio vividly pointed out, “All families have troubles and together we’re working our way through this.”

Grownup’s own up…

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Why can't everyday be with Pam Stone?

We do a lot of things out of the ordinary.

Who ate the first banana? Did the gang of five chastise the peeling fool?

Who and what’s normal? I’m not! I’m having too much fun not wanting to be the popular kid on the radio.

I used to think quickly rushing outside to jump onto an auction purchased homemade ten speed bike with a jet black banana seat to arrest the crooks Batman and Robin couldn’t catch was what every boy did.

My friend Steve elected one morning to take a pellet gun and shoot what he assumed were pesky messy pigeons only to learn my music makers served a bigger plan.

No matter what day American businesses do things out of the ordinary. Steve Jobs changed the world while insurance companies, banks and Wall Street stockholder’s rob the world without raising a weapon.

Why do so many people race to be called President when once you arrive you’ve got no voice?

There are no bodyguards in Heaven so I can’t wait to ask Roosevelt why his drive to put people back to work stopped with him. Reagan needs to share the message behind why catsup was officially declared a vegetable during his administration. Did Ford truly trip or was it a gimmick to get people to talk?

A very famous American Idol contestant once had me escorted from his presence for asking an out of the ordinary question: You’re a common man with a common background are you the reincarnation of Elvis Presley?

I asked Richard Marx if he was the Hunchback of Notre dame and he laughingly said, “Yes…”

While doing morning television news reporting I fell off horses on purpose, hooked my skates while on the ice with Disney, slid the Mayor of a small town down the large slide in the middle of the interview! I got in big trouble when asking the Chief of police where the donuts were.

We do a lot of things out of the ordinary. Reality television is making a mint while true writers and actors have been forced to host radio shows, voice radio commercials and or create websites like Daryl Hall from Hall and Oates where it’s all about them doing what makes all that is them very happy.

I’m not the bully on the block that would inspire someone to set aside the rules about jumping off the house. I’m just the one that won’t talk you out of it.

A Broadcasting student comes up to me and says, “I expect to do this and make that amount in two years! It’s make or break! I’ll be the next or I’m out of here!”

I’m not gonna be the weighty well oiled heavily researched shirt behind the desk that drove the stake into the center of my dreams. As crazy silly as it seems, dreams are what feed reality. If you’re going to step out of the ordinary I’ll always be your first fan.

Can you imagine being there when John Lennon was introduced to Paul McCartney? What if Lee Iacocca had come to you about designing the first Mustang? The pickle! Whose wise idea was it to boil a cucumber then add the itty bitty mindless seeds called dill? The cardboard sleeve that slips around that hot cup of Beantown coffee? Now Starbucks has round cake on a stick!

Does everybody truly have to invent the world around you for you to enjoy life?

Bank of America is failing because they stopped listening to the little guy with out of the ordinary ideas. Yet Clear Channel has taken radio to a completely new playing field by introducing the single most important chunk of music history since the IPOD…free music, anytime, every time just ask.

Albums, 45’s, cassettes, 8-track tapes, MP3’s and now I Heart Radio. Where the hell was I when Bob Pittman stepped out of the ordinary and said, “Umm got an idea.”

And so this is how it goes. I’m gonna stop writing and you’re gonna stop reading. Both of our endeavors are going to return to a world where being plastic, fake, numb and puppet like is what keeps a boss in a great mood. I’m not saying do something whacky buzzer in their face bizarre but I’ll be the first to cheer when someone walking down the hall says, “It was a boring damn day until _________ did that thing.”

Do you know why decision makers and parents don’t like people like me? I’m too willing to say, “Wow that would be too fricken cool.” Nationally recognized comedian Pam Stone is the only one in my 32 years of radio to reply back, “Can we do it now?”

I miss her show so much!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

I've been telling you a lie and its time to come clean...

Today I wish to laugh. Not to laugh at. Not necessarily to laugh with.
To laugh…
From which shadow does a laugh begin?
Might the corners of my mouth be inspired to share its journey?
How difficult can it be to laugh on a rainy Tuesday?
If this were a kid’s movie there would be farting and burping.
Adults tend to laugh through a method called following.
We laugh to laugh because the laugh came from someone accepting.
Laughing is a bodily function.
It should be natural…
Only to learn radio people fake laugh.
Comedians have mastered the nervous laugh.
Politicians and car dealers laugh their way to the bank.
While banker’s laugh about how stupid we are to accept their $5 ATM service charge.
We laugh out loud.
We laugh with a crowd.
We laugh when we fear.
We laugh at the sight of tight jeans and all that rear.
More importantly we laugh when we don’t understand.
I laughed when the Emergency Room said I was having a heart attack.
The doctor made me laugh while inside the ticker…we were impersonating car commercials.
Laughing is our green leaves of spring.
Laughter doesn’t wait for Fall to glide freely to the ground beneath.
Laughing can be irritating.
A child’s laugh steals my breath.
When my boss laughs I no longer trust.
So I believe laughter is a disease.
Does laughing really lead to a cure?
I was kicked out of class for too much laughing.
I heard the principal laugh after swatting my a**
My friend Zondra has breast cancer stage four and I’m not laughing.
I’ve spent two weeks trying to keep it from you.
Wearing bright pink shirts has made many people laugh here at work.
To hear it pours faith into the veins of a laugh that went up in flames
I think God might be calling and he isn’t laughing.
My friend Zondra didn’t do anything wrong then again she made me laugh during times we were supposed to be focused.
I feel guilty about laughing.
It’s unfair to laugh knowing Zondra is in that hospital bed.
If I didn’t have so many incredible memories of her I’d be laugh-less.
But no she always had to be that friend who always did funny things during awkward moments.
Her two daughters made us all laugh when they gushed over the sight of Justin Bieber.
The doctor wasn’t laughing when he asked them, “Where will you be living?”
Is there a laugh to be found when asking why?
Are laughs washed away when you have tears in your eyes?
If I trapped a laugh and stored it in a bottle; would it be wasted if I pulled it out right now?
If Zondra caught me writing this blog she’d stand beside me laughing.
That’s who she is…
No matter how strong the struggle she laughs.
No matter how bad the singers perform on American Idol she doesn’t judge she laughs.
No matter how many school students race to greet her while knocking her weak legs to the cold floor she always comes up laughing.
I often wonder how many of students know of her genuine laugh.
How many of them spell it Laff?
Who wrote the rules on making a laugh look like low-g-hhhh or loff-gg-hh?
When I laugh with tears in my eyes boogers can’t wait to shoot from my nose.
When I laugh while thinking about Zondra’s incredible strength I find a reason to believe.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Time is worth more than gold yet you are willing to give it away...


What is it?

What is good for?

Why am I addicted to its uncaring power of recklessly taking over everybody’s life and style?

Is there such a thing as being addicted to time? On my path, three hours early is six hours too late. Introduce that to an outsider and honestly I can’t figure out why coworkers, friends and family don’t see eye to eye with me.

According to scientists new addictions are created every day. The brain wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s a large mechanism that unlike a manmade computer finds complete fascination with every reason to develop a relationship with itty bitty can’t be seen by the naked eye neurons that the body generates when feeling good great and phenomenal.

According to science neurons reward the pathway by releasing neurotransmitters called dopamine into the nucleus accumbens and other brain areas.

If it’s got the strength to make you feel wow wee! Chances are you’re addicted. Being early is my rush. But is it an addiction?

I arrived at a wedding on Saturday four hours before the I do’s…the event coordinator quickly halted my walk forward claiming I was too early. A 5pm Sunday afternoon meeting at a local coffee shop requires me to be in the chair by 3:30. At 4:55 my employee calls to tell me he’ll be 15 to 30 minutes late. I exploded. I dealt with it by eating Chinese food for dinner. Today my weight is up, blood pressure is through the roof and the MSG has laid upon me a headache the size of NYC.

But I was up by 4 am to be to work by 7! Sweet! It’s going to be a beautiful day!

Physic forums clearly point out a person can have an obsession with time but not be addicted. Aren’t they one in the same? Nope!

There are 3,200,000 different websites that take on the subject, each being fair to the others presence and yet you walk away still wondering if what you suffer from is a lack of understanding what a synonym is. Obsession and addiction are not related but the shape of their eyes easily comes across as being kissing cousins.

My sister’s love for life is to publically admit that she was once addicted to alcohol and has spent her entire life educating others not only how to battle the disease but live with the constant need to feed other addictions that might disguise itself.

I think Gene Simmons of KISS is a genius in the world of marketing. I’ve heard he’s a rock star but who cares…it’s his mind and the way he processes the items tossed into his thinker that have made reading everything he touches a must have in my life because the bass guitarist is a master at trusting gut instinct and putting just enough energy into it to make it work. I find that to be incredibly inspiring.

I’m not addicted to Simmons…I’m obsessed with his business state of mind.

Face Book and Twitter are addiction makers. Where else can you make friends at the click of a button? There’s no need to have eye to eye contact like Skype, having to use volume in verbal discussions such as your cell phone or locate a reason to get dressed up and waste good smelling mall store cologne on a cheap date at an uptown nightclub.

Time gives me reason to have hope. If I allow time to breathe the end result is quality. I can’t be accused of having too much time on my hands because no day passes that I haven’t spent hours fine tuning a personal tour that has me doing something every moment of every 24 hour period.

I heard the best quote yesterday after the Carolina Panther loss to The Saints; people complaining about our team not being connected to a winning season. It was accusation after accusation, hit! Pow! Boom! Biff! Swing! Clunk! Then the radio announcer says, “What you need to do is stop and think…the other team is taking the time to practice. They know what our team is made of and they spend lots of time during the week making sure they won’t be beat.”

I laughed so hard the man sitting in the car next to me at the traffic light physically reached over to try and find the radio station I was listening to.

My coworkers think I’m insane because I’ve passionately embraced I Heart Radio. Not because of the music…I spend hours listening to the commercials on radio stations in Hawaii, Seattle, Boston, Tampa, Milwaukee and Minot, North Dakota. Somewhere in the mix I’m going to locate the secret combination of words, phrases and vocal deliveries that will be accepted by radio listeners. Instantly I know a fake jock! Immediately I want to tune out. I choose instead to patiently wade through radio’s rip and read methods of processing information and teach up and coming Broadcasters what to listen for. Once you identify a weakness before it occurs time allows you to find success in quality.

Am I addicted to commercials or obsessed? Why don’t listeners and television viewers find it to be entertaining to sit through commercial breaks? We love the Super Bowl not for the game but what’s in between. The other 51 weeks of the year are spent tossing words away.

I’ve always wanted to watch a Sunday morning preacher just toss a sermon away. Just get up there and bang it out. It takes time to build foundations. No wonder thousands are beginning to protest around the country against Corporate

America…time isn’t money; time is what stands in the way of Wall Street making gains. Businesses need acceptance and fine tuning your machine to the point of attaining quality requires time they don’t have. Hire and fire…it no longer matters because colleges and universities are spitting out the fresh meat every day.


No day passes that I don’t dress up like a clown for the fake face I show isn’t my true identity…it is the sad heart of an entertainer that can’t find an audience to support his stage…so I choose to go along with because there are moments that time truly isn’t worth fighting for…and that’s why our nation’s financial rating is no longer a solid three. Time means nothing to way too many decision makers.

Outside a Harris Teeter store in Ballantyne hangs a banner that reads: Don’t forget your Boss on Bosses Day! Instantly I became sick to my stomach. What are the chances my boss even knows my name. I held onto it all night. I couldn’t wait to write this morning. Three sentences deep into this blog and in walks my boss with a handwritten letter that clearly states: Thank you for taking the time to create incredible radio commercial production.

Time…it really is worth your investment.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Don't read this unless you feel trapped...until then do things that make you feel trapped then read this...

How many times a day or week do you feel trapped?

It’s not always a career or relationship; the feeling of being trapped can be generated by something as simple as the image in the bathroom mirror. Songs on the radio can trap you in a mindset time won’t let you forget. Walking through a department store that features unforgettable fragrances heightens the boarders that lock you side an invisible fortress.

In The Black Belt Book of Life author Richard Andrew Kings takes on the subject of having to live trapped within yourself; calling peace at any price not peace but slavery.

Artists, writers, musicians, horticulturists to ministers in a very tiny church lost in the middle of America on a dirt road leading nowhere have self taught their fears that trusting freedom is a destination worth chasing.

Richard writes, “Freedom must be fought for every moment of everyday with our will, discipline, mind and body acting as guards of self defense.”

Stop! You read the words Self Defense and right away the message sent to the brain clearly states, “Oh oh he likes to fight.” Instantly you’re put on defense when in reality those protecting freedom walk in peace.

Pythagoras said, “No man is free who cannot control himself.”

Katherine Hepburn reminded us, “Without discipline, there’s no life at all.”

King continues, “Too often people operate under the premise that peace should be maintained at all costs.”

He sharply questions that wondering why you don’t place more value in self worth.

If asked to write down every reason why feeling trapped has overtaken your dreams, goals, ambitions and fears, one of two things would happen: you wouldn’t write anything down or you’d spend the next six weeks staring at your faults rather than what makes you incredible.

Having had a heart attack at 47 has trapped me. I’m more active today than those crazy teens and twenties. Everything I wanted to do is currently being done with no respect for the two hands on the everyday clock. Sometimes I’ll go 52 hours without a break. I absolutely without a doubt don’t understand the arrival of new radio people that aren’t willing to give 300%. True Broadcasters are like comedians; when gathered in a room the tales told are never through lip service but through the windows of the soul and that requires blood and guts or according to Richard King…the feeling of being trapped.

Not too good…

King is convinced that we’ve been trained since birth that to every positive there must be a negative. If you’re having a brilliant day at work then expect a bad night ahead. If losing ten pounds has earned you compliments then looking good will inspire someone in your life to make accusations you don’t deserve. We trap ourselves only to blame it on other people.

20th Century Martial Arts Master Charan Singh advised his students to live in the creation then get out of it.

Now you know why I write everyday at sunrise.

I cannot create if there’s weight. I will not make waves if all I did yesterday was saved. I cannot be if what was to be has already been done. A green leaf on a tree knows its connection with the tree is over by mid-October. You’ll never see the collector of water and sun crying tears at the base of the trunk; it’s lived in the creation and gotten away from it. The new journey is to feed the earth, to warm the ground for a passerby worm or ant. A leaf provides a soft bed for deer bedding late at night. Leaves crunch like a scary movie sending chills through Halloween night.

Live in the creation then get out of it…

En Vogue couldn’t have sang it sweeter, “Free your mind and the rest will follow…”

I will always believe in you first.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Stop ignoring what you already know...

I’ve spent too much time writing about how to survive the current multi-tasking crisis damaging the American storefront.

To hit the subject again comes across tiring and un-digestible until you fade the cameras back and see what’s truly taking place while these words smudge brain prints on the face of your flat screen.

I’m multi-tasking!

Another 5 am wakeup call to create radio commercials while sharing a conversation with Channel 961’s Brotha Fred’s producer David about how Motown’s backup band scored more hits then Elvis and the Beatles combined…while maintaining a firm grip on which Clear Channel stations need voices for their clients in Miami, Boston, Milwaukee and Minot, ND.

None of this would be taking place if Bill Gates hadn’t wasted his sleeping hours trying to outperform Apple. This is one shape of the monkey evolution God didn’t have anything to do with. It was if the creator said, “Ok…here’s the reins…show me something entertaining.”

Through the use of computers companies save billions of dollars downsizing. I used to think my Grandparents were the hardest working generation. They couldn’t survive an hour in my shoes.

Heart attacks, strokes, cancer and other viral sicknesses are draining the accounts of insurance companies and Corporate America can’t see why their pockets are empty. Multi-tasking employees have weakened the foundation of success.

Office health issues would improve if the United States Government had the courage to halt the abuse. But they won’t…it’s a state by state issue and the decision maker’s elected into office couldn’t get there without big business paying for billboards and radio advertisements that paint impossible to reach destinations but because we hear the name over and over again, good bad or ugly it’s the lever touched on election day.

Middle and elementary school students know more about publically elected people then parents holding the right to vote. Because of multi-tasking the right choices are masked by incredible marketing departments that spend millions of dollars studying your habits of being too busy to care until it’s too late.

There’ll be no change in America until those dressed up in modern day teen clothes and behavior can no longer get access to video games, the dollar menu, cable TV, cell phone texting and 3-D Friday night movies. If the kids are happy parents are happy.

Why won’t you admit there’s nothing left in your dream drive?

Why is it so damn important for me to keep bringing up the dangers of multi-tasking?

We’ve been brainwashed to believe multi-tasking makes us more productive but research is telling the true Hollywood Story. Impossible has been met. Meeting deadlines is the new American dream. Sacrificed is family, friends and or relationships with people that count. Face Book is loved by Corporate America because CEO’s and GM’s know your need to be loved and accepted is just two clicks away from them getting what they need.

Shattered is the one thing humans were born to do…focus. Multi-tasking cheapens the product because we’ve stopped demanding quality. I’m convinced the best restaurants in town are those with 80 point ratings. Oh wait…that’s multi-tasking talking!

A childhood friend from Montana is a nurse in Washington State…she is the voice cancer patients hear after the doctor’s told them it’s almost over. Cancer patients no longer come in the shape of old parents. You know the age. You know the face. But it doesn’t matter because it’s not happening to you therefore it can’t be real.

Now I sound like my first wife.

Solution…from the pages of Daily Challenges: set aside ten minutes a day to do one thing.

Stop trying to write blogs while talking about law firms with a sales rep while being focused on another reps client coming in for a session in less than an hour only to take note you forgot the Granny Smith Apple on the kitchen counter which means a craving for something sweet is going to take you to the candy machine leading to more weight around your waste and this was the weekend that you and the girls were getting together and damn if you don’t feel fat.

10 minutes…just you doing one thing.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Taking on the day and winning...

Countless times I’m given different names because those within the circle still haven’t seen my true purpose. And yet Marcus Aurelius said, “Without a purpose nothing should be done.”

Myles Monroe believed there is something for you to start that is destined for you to finish.

John Mason writes in his book Believe You Can, “Many people know what they are running from but not what they’re running to.”

From the book of Proverbs: Whatever your plan is, you know that nothing else will satisfy you.

As a writer, reporter, radio talker…I could go on forever. No matter what book you read there’s always a package of seeds. Books are designed to call out to readers; readers in return entertain their resting self without realizing a truer purpose was shared by way of the writing instrument.

If someone told me thirty two years ago that I’d be one day be writing, producing and voicing radio and television commercials presented in boxes all over the world I would’ve chased a college education in search of a different destination. Then one night in the center of a child’s dream dressed up in adult clothes it occurred to me how badly produced commercials are. I claimed to be a fan of broadcasting only to locate my ears racing away from its playing field.

Music critics have shared countless times that 1970’s Disco was born when record producers took over the industry. Left behind were the writers, guitar strokes and folks that woke up in the middle of the night humming notes that were instantly taped to the recorder sitting next to the bed. It didn’t matter what fell from the tips of your fingers and corners of your lips…to make it big in music you needed a producer that was designed to create beats and rhythms that inspired couples to dance.

Radio is no different. Before the Dick Clark influenced payola scandal that crushed radio legend Alan Freed; the Pied Pipers of Rock n Roll crafted their daily performances on stages that drew listeners to their core source of energy. The moment radio station GM’s and Programmers learned the United States government would fine them heavily for accepting money to play music the first step toward making radio a success was to shut down the imagination of the microphone addicted talent that was born to teach your imagination to take mental vacations without spinning out of town.

Liner cards, music formats, micro-managing not video killed the radio star.

Kurt Anthony, Alan Moss and Major Dan Miller at KOOK in Billings, Montana shook me like a California earthquake. Their decisions to take sound and break ground fueled a generation to believe that it couldn’t live a second without those two speakers on the kitchen counter, next to the bed or in the front seat of your car.

Then one night in the center of a child’s dream dressed up in adult clothes it occurred to me how badly produced commercials are. Rather than waste my dream on constantly telling and not sharing with listeners that this is the greatest four in a row mix of music they’ll hear this side of Kansas…the door opened to a different side of the business where creative flow was accepted; the only stick in the mud were sales people that didn’t understand your purpose.

Fred Story, Jon Causby and Charles Holloman replaced Miller, Moss and Anthony. Being on the air to do nothing but rip and read was for interns. The true creative radio flow is in the commercials.

Today, through modern methods of radio gaga imperfectly methodized by computer geeks that work for Clear Channel I’m offered the opportunity to communicate with producers and writers from all over the country every moment offered in a single twenty four hour period. If listeners could touch the mindsets of those behind the scenes they’d realize that not every station sounds the same. The passion to listen might in fact return if the given purpose was given the opportunity to be believed in.

But radio doesn’t work that way. Like Disco, the controlling interest doesn’t rest on the laurels of the artist but instead the moneymaker. 80% of what interrupts your favorite song has been written and voiced by someone that’s never done a day of radio or television. Someone has failed to tell them that inexperience is reason number one why Cable TV DVR’s have four speeds on fast forward. Radio has six buttons and search.


Then one night in the center of a child’s dream dressed up in adult clothes it occurred to me how badly produced commercials are. It’s become my dream to be the nation’s first on-air radio talent that will perform open heart surgery on a patient without having to get an education first.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “If a man hasn’t discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.”

The only way to create better radio commercials is to locate the future first. I’ve yet to say no to a broadcasting school, college drama class, high school message center or a medical student named Austin from CPCC who wasn’t bit by the radio bug until after he stepped into a giant pile of my purpose.

Oprah couldn’t have been more correct when she shared the secret…life isn’t about success until you understand the people you are connecting. Through radio commercials I see two people: a listener that wants to better their life and a store that sells the items that will make the listeners life better. Every breath I take is locating the right words, music and seconds offered to get people on the right path. When radio commercials work lives change.

That’s my purpose…what’s yours?