Well....I stayed away longer than I planned. I'm just dropping by to let you know I'm back and that the new chapter is in the My Story section. Be sure to click on the appropriate words to see the pix and drop me a line or add a comment here. I got a great email from Wayne Johnson from my Cedar Rapids days and he reminded me of some parts of My story I had forgotten. I'll have to do an up-date. Same for some stories I just got from the days at U100. Not only is this My Story but it is my Never Ending Story.

Take care...

Jay Leno just finished doing "Headlines" and that's the end of the day for me. I only watch the Tonight Show on Monday night because I like "Headlines". The rest of the week, I pass.

It was on this date in ancient Egypt that Cleopatra journeyed to the banks of the Nile not realizing that the banks were closed. It was Columbus Day. Actually, I stopped at the bank this afternoon to deposit a check. It was open. Later, I realized I needed some change and tried to go to the bank at the grocery store. They were closed. I guess the Columbus Day closure dealie isn't universal. Why, at one time it was something you could depend on. The Italians would march and the banks would close.

OK. Here is how it works. In the comment section you are welcome to write on any thread you feel like. Then I can comment or not. And others can comment or not. This is sort of like when I used to give 'talks' at schools. THIS is the question time. The questions can be serious but don't necessarily expect a serious answer. btw....I am going for a little vacation on Thursday so you all may have to carry on without me next week-end. Oh, the humanity!

Yesterday I had to go back to MY STORY, Chapter 5 to see what I wrote about Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The reason? I heard from someone mentioned there who was definitely part of MY STORY. Wayne Johnson. My memory failed me and I referred to him as Duane Johnson. Oops! I'll have to fix that. We went to Brown Institute together for a while. Here's how Brown worked. Every month a new class began and ever month those who had been there for 9 months graduated. Wayne beat me to Brown by several months and left to begin his career while I had months to go. At one time, if you were a broadcaster in the five-state mid-west (Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, North & South Dakota) the chance that one, if not all, of your colleagues was a grad of B-I were almost 100%. I remembered quite clearly that Wayne worked in Cedar Rapids, but I had forgotten that we worked together in Austin, Minnesota. (What did I do to kill all those brain cells?) I also forgot his visits while I was KDWB and KSTP. (Do Big Macs kill brain cells?) Now I will have to pick Wayne's brain and grab my webmaster and do some editing and correcting. He also had some pix and I'll link to them this week in a comment....

Damn! I have to write to my friend Claudia...NOW she wrote to ask me if I'm in a coma....

BTW...the Vikings win last night was dirty but welcome. Just one question....Whose idea was it to kick to Reggie Bush? (I have an idea....)

At least I didn't have to watch the Vikings lose today. My brother and I talked on the phone tonight and I told him that Chilly the Tool should be gone...but, he said that going with statistics, teams don't improve with mid-season coach changes. My opinion is that he should either get the axe or grow a couple.

Tomorrow night I'll suffer thru the game. My cable is back at 100% but I didn't have anything DVR'd, so spent most of the day reading. I drank some milk with a cheese sandwich for dinner and now I feel all bloated. In my old-age I have become lactose intolerant. On CSI-New York one of the characters said watching football without beer was like eating pizza with milk. Now, I thought that was strange because I LOVE cold milk with pizza. Rarely do it, but would love it if I did.

I first began watching football on Sunday when I worked in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Of course, I joined in the Packer Mania...(something I am ashamed of today, as I am ashamed of punching the nun and liking Velveeta)

When I was in Tacoma I was a Seahawk fan and in San Francisco I loved the Niners. Damn it was nice to root for teams that actually won...

I started watching the Sunday talking-head shows this morning but fell asleep in the middle of Fox News Sunday. Now I'm starting to babble....

I wanted to end with a pithy quote but all I can think of is this:

"I have a bracelet too" - Barak Obama

What a maroon....!

R

I once wrote that I seriously considered leaving my life as a broadcaster and moving to India and working with Mother Theresa...until I found out she didn't have cable.

One of the first times I quit smoking came about when I realized that cigarettes were my 2nd highest monthly out-lay. (And that was when cigs cost about $2 a pack) Now, the cost of my cable...television and internet....in two locations easily takes second place beating out food and sex toys.

Let me just state without fear of contradiction...DVR will change your life. When the cable doesn't work properly, life is tough.

In Minnesota I have great service...when it works...but I have been subject to technological problems to the extent that I have the 'assistance number' on speed dial. Without boring you any more than I already am, my cable is acting up. It isn't totally out. In fact it isn't even 90% out. It is that pesky 10 percent away from perfection that caused me to send an SOS and tomorrow between 10am - 12noon my rescue will arrive. Until then, I shall pout and eat cookies and milk.....btw....I liked the movie Eagle Eye....even if the critics did not. I was going to go to another movie this afternoon but my cable situation had me too depressed....later...R

The Dems finally got their wish and the economy is having some trouble....and so to celebrate, yesterday I went on an on-line shopping spreeeeee! I had so much fun and it will give me something to look forward to in the next few weeks as I get my regular visits from the UPS man. I told my brother about the shopping excess and he was worried they should hold an intervention. Today, I thought it was out of my system, but I kept finding myself using the remote to swing by QVC and HSN....Luckily I didn't need a purse, gold hoop ear-rings or some asian lady's skin cream.

Have you seen the info commercial for Billy selling a machine that duplicates the White Castle hamburger. Damn! I would kill for a White Castle RIGHT NOW! And some onion chips! West Coast...eat your heart out.

Did I ever tell you I met that babe...Kathy....who does the info commercials for the little sandwich makers and now the micro-wave pasta cooker....her family loves everything she cooks.

This is a lame blog. Sorry. It's late, I'm tired, and I spent all my $. Isn't it rather lame that I have to order my cologne on-line. Jung. No body sells it anymore. No wonder it is soooo 80's.

Trying to plan something for this week so when Saturday rolls around it won't seem like I wasted it all. Maybe I'll go to a movie on Thursday. I have to go to the library so that will work. Library and movie on Thursday afternoon. Thursday night is the big debate and I'll be on pins and needles. Friday?....hmmm.....I'll think about that tomorrow.....since tomorrow is another day......R

Another family get-together....this time over brunch at the Black Bear Casino. I planned to go see a movie afterward, since I was missing the Vikings game anyway, but by the time we were finished talking and saying good-bye, I had missed the movie, so I drove home listening to the sorry Vikings on the radio. Back in the black-out days, we used to listen to all the home-games on the radio since they weren't on TV locally. All those years of black-outs were stupid then and they are stupid now that I remember them. We'd go to a movie and listen to the little transister radio. Once in the middle of some movie at the Orpheum in downtown Mpls someone else watching the movie yelled out..."What's the score?". The movie, "Night of the Lepus" was totally ruined. I got home in time to see the interception that iced the Vikings loss and then with some cowboy movie in the back-ground, fell asleep on the couch for a couple of hours. The Simpson's and Family guy were great. I was worried that the Family guy was going to be sacriligious (sic) but it wasn't. Next week I guess. Even American Dad was funny tonight. And happy happy day, THE UNIT escaped being axed and the season opener was super.

I don't have anything planned for tomorrow so I might not blog. Even I am bored by this...R

Cloquet, Minnesota is only about 20 miles from me but for some reason I dread the drive. There's even an Interstate but in my auto-paranoia, I take back roads all the way. (So far I have only nicked a deer...the one I eventually kill is still just a twinkle in his daddy's eye...I think they are going to name him Bambi. According to the internet Bambi is the most common boy's name for a deer. The second is Joshua. The most popular girl's name is LaQwuana and the second most popular is Shaleqwa) My niece and her husband were visiting and another niece was having a little get-together so I grudgingly dodged the herds of forest rats (deer) and drove the 20 miles. The food was great and prodigiously heaped upon the table and I did my best to do right by the starving people in China. Aside from a morning spent in bed reading, nothing much to write. If you are up-to-date on MY STORY you will have read about the niece who rode with me 2/3's of the way to California in December of 1979. That's the niece who was visiting. (Am I spelling niece correctly? It doesn't look right) Anyway, glad I went. Now, I'm going to have a soupcon of chocolate cake and a half glass of diet Mountain Dew and go to sleep. (OMG--I'm going to sleep like a baby...)R

You were warned!

After reading the various political blogs I read every day, I settled down on the sofa with a book. I got it at the library and it is only a week rental so the pressure is on. Actually, I'll finish it by Monday. About 5 months ago I bought a turn-table. I have mountains of vinyl, especially classics and show stuff and now I can actually listen to some of it. Clicks, scratches, surface noise. CD's have taken a lot of the pleasure out of recorded music.

When Rush Limbaugh started I turned off Maria Callas and listened for an hour or so. He was distracting me from my reading so I gave up on the book AND Rush and nuked a Lean Quisine and watched Project Runway.

I am working on some paintings and put the vinyl back on and spent a few hours painting and admiring. When I smoked, the admiring would be combined with a cigarette and I miss that part.

When my painting knees finally gave out, I plopped in front of the computer and surfed and IM'd for an hour or so. Watched the news and Judge Judy.

Tonight I went to see a recital of the brother of a friend who plays the cello. As far as I was concerned he's another Yo Yo Ma, except that he isn't Chinese and I'm no expert. Seriously, it was wonderful. When I got home I watched my DVR of the debate and have only two things to say:

1. I wish McCain wouldn't spend so much time bashing Bush and the Republicans...

2. Obama's ears are much to large for him to ever be President.

After reaching that irrational conclusion I realized I hadn't taken my complete dosage of meds, which I did, and now, as I feel the creeping tingles of drug-induced derangement, it is time to get in bed.

It was a pretty good day.....Love, R

Thanks for the mail wondering where I was. I guess I didn't make it clear that I was going to be vacating (is that a word?) for a while. Even though some of you have suggested it, I have resisted daily blogs along the line of..."Woke at 8am, watched a little TV, had lunch with my friend, ....etc....." But, on these little gaps while I am away, I guess things aren't quite so boring and I could include you.

Anyway, I got home last night at about 11pm and I'm still getting myself around things. I'll up-date soon.

Have you ever wondered how many meat-balls they make at IKEA in a day? I am sure that info is somewhere on the net but I'm too lazy to search for it. After spending the morning with the Swedes I am ready to trash every piece of furniture I own and go 100% Ikea. I know. I know. I might as well buy my furniture at Target. I need a new TV watching chair. The one I have I bought at Dayton's (?) in 1976 and after following me around the country and being abused by my fat ass for all these years, it is ready to be recycled. This morning I sat in at least a dozen possible replacements and not one of them threw a party for my butt. Oh well....the quest continues.

If I do buy a chair today I'd have to bring it with me to NYC. I'm not paying those delivery charges. I can just imagine some babe at Northwest telling me I'm 350 pounds over-weight. I got to go. Ain't WIFI grand?

We live in a material world!!

R

Someone asked me last night about my GM's. If I have been hard on management I didn't mean to be because often I was trying or pretending to be part of it. The best way to judge my general managers is not during the stress and hyper-activity of the moment but in the feeling you have 10-20-30 years later.

I have good memories of a man named Stan Stynicki, the GM and weatherman! at KAUS-KMMT-TV in Austin. He gave me a shot.

Deane Johnson and Harold Greenberg WERE both my GM's at KDWB but I will always think of Deane as the PD who gave me the shot and Harold Greenberg as the manager of the stations in Washington State.

U100 was a big part of my story and Mike Sigelman trusted me and we rode that plane all the way down together. Jack Nugent was good to me. I have (believe it or not) fond memories of Bill Johnson from the first station in Modesto. For just a bit Bruce Markman was my boss the second time around and I have no complaints.

Wow! I began this thinking I'd only name a few and say the rest were assholes. There is a truth here. Looking back on my colleagues of 29 years I have so many more positive memories than the other kind it is daunting. After all this time, 96% of the people I worked with are in my brain all warm and fuzzy. Who would have thunk it?

R

Thanks Whoopie Woman for correcting my attempt at erudition....

"Thomas Wolfe said you can't go home again, but maybe he was talking to Dylan Thomas when he said that. Dylan replies that you can take the boy out of Wales, but can't take Wales out of the boy."...email from Cindi

I knew it was some guy who said it....I actually thought Dylan Thomas said it and have repeated that many many times....but then you know how Dylan Thomas lied. I hate to think of how many people over the years have gone home after a conversation with me and while brushing their teeth, chuckled softly and murmured..."How embarrassing was that?"

I know I have whined a bunch about my Friday dinner. After contemplating the ENTIRE conversation, perhaps it started down-hill when I asked them for their opinion on anus transplants.* IDK.

Take care and thanks for the mail.....

Rob

* Just would you rather get one from Jessica Simpson or King Kong Bundy.

The great news is that I just finally might have some morning radio available. The station I listen to most has FINALLY replaced this very lame syndicated thing with something else and I can't wait to give it a chance. Some time I should comment on the other shows but like my mother said..."If you can't say something nice about a morning show...."....You know the rest.

Probably the most frequent comment I get mailed to me refers to U100 and those "great" days. Great days? Well.......I know I had fun. I know it was exciting. I know we broke some new ground and made some big mistakes...but the one thing I know is that Dylan Thomas was right....you can't go home. Someone said to me they wanted to recreate U100 and that 'it would probably be a success still today'...Not!

What would be recreated? Are they remembering Jethro Tull or Olivia Newton John? Is it "...sitting on a park bench..." or "...please Mr please don't play B-17...."....? (Or whatever B it was....)

I hate Classic Rock stations. KQRS-FM in the Twin Cities isn't the KQ of old. It's just a glorified oldies station. The music they play is the music U100 played while they meandered and whispered their way thru 'underground' radio.

The only thing U100 has to offer to the current radio scene is the sense of excitement and innovation that so many radio stations lack. What has kept KQRS in the game all these years is their consistency, personalities, and the myriads of people remembering something that never was...

I apologize to my many West Coast readers who don't know what (who) the hell I am talking about. It is just some somewhere over the rainbow shit where birds flew...for a bit.

R

Just got off the phone with one of my friends. This is great phone because we talk about so much crap and laugh so hard. Of course, politically, we agree on most everything. Anyway...it's a good thing the phone call was sandwiched between this blog and the TV I was just finishing watching when he called. RELIABLE SOURCES on CNN. Damn! I should know better than to watch that news channel but....sometimes I flip totally out.

Of course they were discussing the Sarah Palin 'fall-out' and how the press had dealt with it. And of course the 1st panel found little wrong with the coverage! Are they delusional? Three ultra-libs and one pseudo centrist. Some woman with the last name Rooney who works for the public-tv station in Boston! (Need I say more) Some guy who looked like the head waiter at a German restaurant, Sally-We Know What's Good For You-Quinn, and the supposed counter-point. If they all think the press probing of Sarah Palin (and family)was perfectly within the bounds of propriety...than they won't mind if I pose the following questions:

1. Did Hillary Clinton enjoy having sex with Vince Foster?

2. When did Chelsea Clinton go on the pill?

3. Has B. Obama (or Michelle) ever been treated for an STD? (He won't release his medical records you know....just like the former President)

The second panel was slightly better thank-you-very-much. Ask all the policy questions you want. Have as many policy differences as you like.

Finally...I heard from one of my one-time liberal friends who de-friended me because I like George Dubbya. Two comments. Why are you reading my blogs if I am de-friended and do you eat with that same mouth?

....and so to bed.....

Rob

Last night I actuallly accepted a dinner invitation and turned a B+ day into a D. My bit of social adventurism reminded me that I no longer have to suffer fools. (Some days I can barely tolerate myself)

Derangement. That is the only word to explain the twisted and ridiculous opinions of the people I met. This isn't a large city and now I'll have to wear a disguise when venturing out to prevent ever meeting them again.

Liberals! Democrats! Assholes!

In earlier screes I have tried not to get political. I will now break those pledges. There is no moral equivilency between truth and fiction. The 'other guy's' opinion is worth crap if it is WRONG.

Last night was like having dinner with the entire staff of MSNBC. When I visit the Minnesota State Fair and see the radio station booths, or listen to the radio stations of today, or hear stories of radio as it is today from the current broadcasting crop, I don't just get depressed.....I get angry. As an example, KDWB-FM at the fair. A crappy 80's traveling transister (?) radio on the bed of a truck that looked like it carried troops to war in 1942 with windows so small (TINTED?) a sniper could operate from them picking off customers exiting the haunted house. What an embarassment. What an insult to the legacy of Contemporary Radio at the fair. My niece (age 12) loves KDWB. That's because she doesn't know any better. And, as KDWB is an embarassment at the Fair, MSNBC is an embarassment to television news. The fact that Brian Williams and Tom Brokaw are on MSNBC and featured there makes them prostitutes. They are whoring their legacy for a paycheck.

So, here I am having dinner with a couple of Keith Olberman/Rachael Maddow wanna-be's and hating every minute. (I just deleted a couple of paragraphs of their crap. If you want to know what they believe just check out any of the hate-filled, junk on the left-wing blog sites or listen to Keith Olberman on MSNBC.)

I have to stop. I'm starting to get incoherent. All this political stuff is my favorite stuff and I miss it between elections. Political beliefs are like religious beliefs. Much of it you accept on faith and just because you believe. Nothing wrong with that. But HATING someone? That is what has happened to the fools on the left. It seems, in my experience, only liberals will end a friendship over politics. Until now. I don't expect any future invitations to dinner from Keith and Rachel. Thank God. I'd rather slide down a razor-blade banister into a vat of salty-water.

Whew! I feel better now. (No, I don't...but oh well.)

Rob

Never go to a movie with your parents.

My parents are gone, many years now, and to tell the truth I would give all I have to spend a couple of hours with them again. My rule only applies to living parents.

If you get by the movie selection process (they will be angry if you pick the wrong one and you'll hate the right one), there are problems looming.

"We can share a popcorn." No! No! Who knows where those fingers have been.

"Now, let's not sit too close."

"Can you see the screen?"

"This floor is sticky."

"What smells?"

If you go to a movie with the folks they will fall asleep. You may be able to tolerate that but the snoring can be distracting. Along with the drool in the popcorn.

Suddenly I am thinking of an exception. Younger women can go to a movie with their mother. As long as there aren't any graphic sex scenes. You will both be disgusted knowing that the other has done it.

All this came to mind this afternoon at the movies. I went to see the Nicholas Cage movie. Every one is the same. At least he most always dies in the end. My movie-going experience was ruined when someone sat immediately in front of me. I wasn't able to put my legs up on the seat. This reminded me of my mother saying, "Do you put your feet on the furniture at home?" Frequently, but only when unshod. Besides...at home I don't charge myself $6.50 for popcorn!

This morning I couldn't wait. I awoke at 8:23am, wandered itching and scratching into the kitchen. I found two slices of bread, one of them, the heel. I was out of Grey Poupon and mayonaise. Well, I was out of real mayo. I have the non-fat variety but that doesn't really work. As you know, it is made with recycled latex house paint and they add heaps of sugar to it to disguise the taste. A person may-as-well cover the sandwich with maple syrup. Ah, you guessed it. The left-over pot roast covered those two pathetic slices of bread...I resorted to French's yellow mustard and some anemic lettuce hunks. A dash of salt and pepper and a half empty half-gallon of milk joined the sandwich and I as I wandered back to my bed to read, eat, and drink. (I don't put the milk in a glass because it doesn't spill as easily drunk straight from the plastic jug. "Are you drinking from the bottle?"...quote from Mom.

All in all it was a good morning, a fair afternoon, and no matter what happens tonight I'm giving September 5, 2008 a B+.

Later....

Rob

Sometimes the trials we face are less than earth-shattering. For lunch I had to decide between a sandwich based on some left over Swedish Meatballs or one based on left over pot roast. Pot roast, either hot or cold, is a special gift of God, so I actually chose the meatballs so I could spend a few more hours anticipating the pot roast. I am tempted to have a pot roast sandwich for dinner, but even in my aimless life I have rules. Rule: Sandwiches for only one meal per day. Unless I can't resist.

There seems to be something sort of sinful about a sandwich heavily laced with cold sour-cream gravy. I tuned into one of the TV stations in the Twin Cities before going to the State Fair and the off-the-shelf 'news' story was about how to eat healthy at the fair! WHY EVEN GO! Across from what used to be called the Mexican Village (I don't know what they call it now) was a stand selling fruit. There were cobwebs on it and the people working there had a vacant stare. They were either dead or in a coma from boredom. "Mom! Mom! When we get to the Fair can I have a banana? Please! Please! I'll be good." "A banana? Have you checked the carbs on a banana? Have some celery. Isn't it fun how it crunches?"

There is other fair food that has struck my fancy. At the Western Washington Fair in ...well, Western Washington, they had two signature foods. There were no sticks involved. First were the scones. Seriously, the demented souls of Western Washington would stand in huge lines to get their scone. In my opinion they were just so-so. I would greedily eat them...if someone else did the line standing....warm, smothered in butter and jam...ok. They weren't bad. It was just the line thing that bothered me. The other Western Washington item was called...an Onion Burger. This was a rather puny hamburger piled to obscene demensions with greasy fried onions. It was WONDERFUL! It was difficult to tell if there was any meat on that burger at all....thus, the aptly named ONION burger.

Leave it to California to entice me with something that could be served in a fern bar. At the Asparagus Festival they would take a crusty sour-dough roll, fill it with sliced tri-tip (A Beef cut difficult to find outside of California...think maybe London Broil)...plus a few spears of asparagus and a ranch sauce and you hear the angels sing. Over the years out west I had some pretty tasty Mexican Fair food. At the Loon Festival in Northern Minnesota (Missed it this year!!Damn!) they have a great Indian Taco. Features Native American fried bread (a staple at any respectable PowWow) but folded and filled like a taco. Depending on the filling, it is tasty, greasy, and HUGE.

So that finishes my Fair Fetish for 2008. Just consider it my yearly Schtik on a Stick. What's next on the agenda. I'm thinking of San Francisco for Halloween. If any place knows how to celebrate Halloween it is SF.

Back soon....

Rob

Disney would probably sue, but the Minnesota State Fair is the Happiest Place On Earth. Maybe they will escape the lawsuit with a sign that says...."One of the Happiest Places on Earth". Or maybe....."The Third Happiest Place on Earth". (Anaheim AND Orlando) If you are a regular reader of this scree you might remember I missed the Fair last year. The entire month of September and a good portion of October were spent in a funk. Even when they prescribed Librium-On-A-Stick...I didn't get better until I had gone through all the stages of grief. This year is different. I got my Fair-Fix and life is good.

But...what is good at the fair isn't necessarily good AFTER the fair. Frozen Pronto Pups look like sex toys. In fact, I have watched the frozen food department at Cub and everyone I saw buying frozen Pronto Pups were shopping for sex toys. You can tell.

And what about Aunt Martha's Chocolate Chip Cookies. Grabbing a bucket of cookies ($14!) and getting supine under the glutton spigot at the all-you-can-drink milk booth and you have a little vision of Heaven. But once you walk under that "3rd Happiest Place On Earth" sign, they are programmed to go just a little off. They pile them high in that bucket and my nephew scrunched them down while still warm and hot. This meant that when I finally opened the bucket instead of a bucket of cookies I had one big cookie chunk about the size of a small boulder. I was able to peel off a few cookies but ended up slamming the whole thing into the sink to break it apart. I ended up with a sink full of Aunt Martha's Cookie Crumbs and even when I scooped them up with a spoon while the old lady from next door stood on a footstool and poured milk into my mouth from a half-gallon of 1%...it just wasn't the same.

For the record, I had my obligatory Creme Puff, Bull Bites, Gyro, Pronto Pup, and scarfed some onion rings and cheese curds from others, and 4 or 5 diet Pepsi's. With the Double Cheese from McDonalds in North Branch on the way home, my Lipitor and Plavix worked over-time and the next day I only need 3 nitros to control the chest pain.

Anyway....it is good to be home and I have stories to share. Which I will over the next week. I will also finish the next chapters in the never-ending-story. And...

the forest will echo with laughter.....

Rob

PS: Suddenly I am reminded of the Asparagus Festival in Stockton CA, the Western Washington Fair in Pullayup, WA and various other "fair-lite" events I have enjoyed. AAAAAh......so many DAMN stories.......so little time.....

I guess I should have said something before leaving on vacation. I am alive. I am sorta well. I will procede to get busy with updates.

I managed to do the Fair this year. It never changes.

I have much to say and will catch you all later. Now....I shall take a nap, sleep on my own bed, look at my stuff and take in 'home'.

Rob

So, I ended up brushing my teeth afterall. I DID NOT floss or use the little pointy brush on my wisdom teeth. Why I still have wisdom teeth is a mystery. It DOES explain how Solomic and sage I am.

I was so frustrated as I prepared for sleep last night, I wasn't paying attention when I tossed my cell phone onto the bed. A few moments later when I got between the sheets, the cell-phone remained where I tossed it and through the night was tangled up in the bedding. At some point it fell off the bottom of the bed into the gap between frame and mattress. During the night I woke and after getting a half a glass of Tropical Punch Kool-Aid, started one of the new books from the library. It hooked me and I read about 100 pages before I started dozing and dropping the book onto my face. Rather than risk blindness, I put the book aside and slipped back into the arms of Morpheus.

This morning I read another hundred pages. The book was really getting interesting. Just as philosphers wonder about the sound of a tree in the forest without someone to hear it fall, I didn't notice the absence of my phone because I didn't or couldn't hear it ringing. Just as you sometimes have a tune in your head you can't get rid of, I kept imagining I was hearing Beethoven's Fur Elise. The fact that I have used it as a ring-tone on my cell-phone for 2 years (because I can't figure out how to change it) didn't penetrate my early-morning brain until I had eaten a Power Bar, drunk a bottle of Diet Mountain Dew, and munched on 4 Oreos with chocolate Creme filling. That's when I noticed the phone wasn't in the usual spot and began my search. First the floor, then the bedroom sofa, then in the living room because maybe I was mis-remembering bringing it into the bedroom. Nothing. Fur Elise kept haunting me at five minute intervals but only a subtle whisper; never loud enough to lead me to the hiding place. Emulating my Mother I said a quick prayer to St. Anthony, the Saint of Lost Objects. My prayers have been ignored here because of past prayers for virginity, libido, and sanity, all things I have lost many years ago.

My booked, splayed open on the bed, I carefully moved. I didn't want to lose my place and I didn't want to dog-ear the page, so I placed it, still splayed, on top of my TV. The television is on the opposite side of my bed. The side I don't use. Now my bed was stripped down to linen, pillows and blankets strewn about the floor, I was sweating and beginning to have angina pains in my chest when....Fur Elise. It was coming from the bottom of the bed. St. Anthony relented and two seconds later I held the instrument in my hand.

The next few moments were spent putting my bed back in order, taking the empty Mountain Dew bottle to the kitchen and taking a nitro. Now it was time to climb back on the bed and continue my great read.

I couldn't find the book. I didn't even think of looking on top of the TV. I NEVER put anything on top of the TV. St. Anthony ignored my prayers because I'd used up my 'one-lost-object-request-per-decade' so my search began again. I won't bore you anymore but after an hour of more bed-mess, more angina, more nitro, and.....I put on my glasses and without the attending blur, saw my book splayed on top of the television.

I learned in some psych ward somewhere that it wasn't the major traumas and neurosis of one's life that drove one crazy. It was the little thing like the growing ash at the tip of your cigarette that might fall and get on your clothes. Of course it would be simple to just flick the ash in an ash tray, but people!...if things were simple one wouldn't be in a psych ward.

I blame this entire ferkacka day on that ferkacka toaster! Would someone please shoot me?

Just before Christmas of 2005, I bought some books and magazines at Barnes and Noble and they put them in a Christmasy shopping bag. This afternoon, I went to the library to exchange books and as always carried the returns and the new loans in that very same Christmas Barnes and Noble bag. Considering that it was free (or at least the cost was buried somewhere in the outrageous cost of the books) after using it at least twice a month for almost 3 years, I would think I have gotten my money's worth and those Chinese really make a good bag.

I am upset because about 20 minutes ago I had a craving for some peanut butter toast. Why I just charged ahead with that plan without analyzing how I would feel using my defective toaster, I just do not have the answer. It took 15 minutes to make two slices of toast. First I toasted it on one side. Then I toasted it on the other side. And since the damned toaster doesn't complete the toasting in one cycle, like a bottle of shampoo I had to toast and repeat!!! It upset me so much, I didn't even enjoy the toast. Usually I sprinkle the peanut butter toast with cinnamon, but at this point my life was such drek, I just thought to myself..."why bother?"

I'm just going to take a pill and go to sleep. I'm not even sure I shall brush my teeth. Let the peanut butter fester in the crevices all night. In the broad scheme of things, what does it matter.

Ah me!

How did I survive for over 35 years without bottled water? This afternoon I went to Sam's Club for three cases of water and spent an hour or so loading it into the refrigerator. (I was tempted to say icebox but how the fuck old do you think I am?) With 72 bottles of water and 18 bottles of diet Mountain Dew, plus a dozen liters of Pelagrino I don't have any room in there for food. The water in Duluth used to have a reputation as being WONDERFUL water. They just dipped a ladle into it, pushed it through a pipe and delighted the masses, fish crap, rusty cans, spilled iron-ore, sea-gull shit and all. I used to swim in the lake at Park Point. The Axeman wrote me about how cold the lake water is. Our skin would turn blue and after a half hour in the water my weenie was smaller than most clean-up batters at the All-Star game. (I just thought of something....even with steroids my weenie is probably smaller than most clean-up batters at the All-Star game)

The plan is to spend the day on the beach tomorrow but it doesn't look like the weather is going to cooperate. Back to the Lake Superior water....it tastes like crap. I say that figuratively because I don't have an actual comparison. Whatever happened in the last 40 years has ruined the lake water....and so Sam's family gets my money.

Bob Brokeman...salesmanager at U100...reminded me of some time spent as a youth in River City. I was good but I was no Eddie Hodges!! Great to hear from you, Bob!

What could be better than spending a couple of hours at the Mall shopping with my nephews. I had plenty of plastic in my wallet and would have indulgently bought them almost anything. When it came down to it though, they ended up buying a couple of cap-guns from the Dollar Store. Those cheap cap-gun pistols thrilled these two 7 years old boys.

I was trying to remember what would have thrilled me when I was seven. I can't really remember. When I was five I wanted a beaver costume. It was the beginning of my theatrical bent. When I was six I wanted my Dad to bring me a box of Nibs and let me stay up to listen on the radio to Mr. Keene, Tracer of Lost Persons. Whe I was seven I used to dress like Hopalong Cassidy and I KNOW I had a six-shooter or two. When I was eight I wanted the war in Korea to end, Sister Joseph Marie to drop dead, no more world hunger, the defeat of International Communism and freedom for Red China.

When I was nine I realized life is not fair. The Korean War never really ended (truce & cease fire)....Sister J-M lived to be 91....the world is still hungry (I could use a bacon sandwich RIGHT NOW but bacon is so expensive)....it took years to defeat the Commies and China is still Red....and I'm still waiting for those Nibs. (I ordered a beaver costume from a company in Southern California but what I got wasn't what I expected...A couple of months ago I found it packed away but it is almost sixty years old and all the beaver hair had fallen off....now it's a shaved beaver costume)

Would I want to be a seven year old in 2008? I'm not sure. Think of all the things I would have missed.

I would have to be awfully hungry to cook up 4-5 eggs for lunch. My guess is that would be the case with most people except maybe those huge fat guys on Jerry Springer. There was one guy who was so huge they had to tear out a wall to move him to a hospital. He kept on saying that he really didn't eat all that much...while knocking down a pound of bacon.

Anyway, where as most people wouldn't admit to having 4 eggs for lunch, what is the deal with deviled eggs? I could eat 8 deviled eggs without even blinking. That's 4 eggs PLUS mayo! And other stuff! I have decided I will no longer attend parties featuring deviled eggs. (Are there supposed to be 2 L's in devilled? No....that looks like it is some kind of ghetto Caddie) Anyway...no more deviled egg parties. My luck I'd go to the party and they'd have to tear out a wall so I could leave.

When I smoked I hated going to people's houses where they enforced a No Smoking rule. I say that because I had some company and I knew they smoked. I allowed them to smoke in my home. That's why God invented Fabrese. When I smoked and visited a non-smoking home in the winter in California I would be standing out on the patio with the dog...both of us shivering and getting wet. That dog didn't understand why I was with him on the patio while the party continued inside. You know he just thought I was out there for sticking my nose in people's crotches and humping some lady's leg. Just like him.

Have you seen the price of bacon these days? Pre-cooked bacon costs at least $2 per slice. What a convenience. At that rate I won't be able to afford a new wall.

Now I am even more depressed. I figured it out that the baguette cost me 13.8 cents per bite! I know a dominatrix who is cheaper! Cindy's comment to my last blog is priceless! Another reason why I still talk to her after 35 years!

Mesa says the drugs from Bangkok are cheap...it WAS Bangkok wasn't it? I can't remember and I just read it 2 minutes ago. Bangkok is cheap? I refer to you my dominatrix comment!

What a wonderfully hot and humid week-end it has been. I bought a box fan at WalMart 5 years ago and it has been running almost constantly since then, winter, summer. I paid $14 for it. On THAT I'm getting my money's worth. Those Chinese slave laborers really make a good box fan. The Kathy Lee toaster I bought was crap!

High blood pressure meds....hmmmmm. I'm lucky to have any blood pressure at all.

Back to work tomorrow?.....not for me.....tomorrow I shall...well....do....nothing.

Rob

I just paid $4.45 for a baguette! For God's sake I used to buy them in San Francisco for a buck.

I am totally depressed. How much am I paying for Prozac?

R

Sorry for the lack of Bloggin even though I had every intention of being here regularly this month. Last week I was so overcome with ennui that I just had to go somewhere. There is nothing I like better than temps in the 90's and humidity of at least 140 percent. Key West!

What I needed was a week or so of lounging on a chaize and watching the palmetto bugs steal the patio furniture. Key West in the summer is NOT the tourist season. The local clubs are loaded with locals and tourists too poor to visit in the winter. I knew I was in trouble when I invited some strangers to hang at my place. I just made a batch of pickle-juice popsicles (you have to churn them three or four times BEFORE inserting the stick) and without a pool or patio furniture there was nothing to do but sample my frozen delights and drink alcohol. The only thing I had to drink were a couple of dozen bottles of Miller Chill. Between the pickle-juice and the lime beer there was more puckering on my patio then at a Best Buns Contest on Castro Street in SF.

I learned at my Mother's knee or some other low-down joint, not to mix booze and since I was already 120 percent in the bag I agreed to go out. It was either hang with my new friends or the palmetto bugs so I ended up at some bar. Bars don't have a great attraction for me. I especially eschew bars where there is squeeling. There was more squeeling at this bar than at a Hormel Plant or a Best Buns Contest, for that matter. Since it was the "off" season, the buns weren't the best and the squeels were often those of disappointment. It sounded like Clay Aiken at a Little Oscar Buffet.

Eventually, I got home, finished off my last 2 bottles of Chill and rode my bed until I passed out. When I awoke six hours later, the palmetto's had rented a Ryder truck and cleaned out my place except my bed and refrigerator. All that was left was a half row of Saltines and a can of Vienna Sausages. They made be extremely self-concious and before I finished them I was squealing like George Michael when he sees a highway rest-stop exit sign.

I will be home next week just in time for the tourist season in Duluth. This year summer is on July 16th and I don't want to miss it. Watching the uninitiated go swimming in the always-cold Lake Superior is special. There's more shrinkage on Park Point beach then there is in Barry Bonds jock-strap. All that squealing makes me think of Key West.

Take care....

Rob

My friend, Mike, gave me a toaster in 1993. In 1988 or 89 I did a bridal registry at several department stores but never got a gift from that. I am not sure why Mike gave me a toaster and a very cheap toaster to boot. Even he admits this was a $7 toaster. All during my time in SF I used that toaster. I couldn't use the toaster and the micro-wave at the same time without blowing a fuse. It only had two narrow slots and was definitely a low-tech toaster. In 2003 it was time for an upgrade. It still worked, but I was fascinated by new toasters. A year ago I plunked down $49 dollars for a new toaster. The Mike Toaster went in the thrift store pile.

My new toaster has wide slots, warming, defrosting, and a toast-only-one-side-bagel-setting. This toaster was sketch from the start.

1. When finished it didn't pop up enough to grab with fingers and I had to use tongs to retrieve almost everything

2. To really toast something you had to double push. Unless you weren't after toast but merely warm bread

3. It was bulky and took lots of room.

4. Things seem to burst into flame frequently.

And now...it is stuck on Bagel! To toast both sides of ANYTHING you must rotate the item and since everything is a double push anyway that means to make two slices of toast you have to quadruple push! It was so much trouble that instead of making my own lunch I ate at the Olive Garden.

What really bugs me is that some special person who works at Goodwill had some really good toast for lunch.

Have a good week-end!

Rob

Not really angry but let's just say I'm in a bit of a snit. It's this tomato thing! Am I stupid or is it because people aren't washing the tomato before using them or is the problem that the 'taint' is actually IN the juice of the tomato. Like if something pollutes the tomato field and the polluted stuff gets sucked up the stem and is INSIDE the tomato. It isn't that I'm p.o.'d because the tomatos are bad. Come on....they say the Florida tomatos are o.k.....the California tomatos are o.k......so what does that leave. Is it the MEXICAN tomatos!!!! The LIBS want us to become more '3rd World'...Yeah! I just want more poopy tomatos in the U.S.

Here is the deal. When you are in the grocery store standing in front of the tomatos, simply stick your finger in your butt. Then take a tomato and sniff it. Then sniff your finger. If they both smell like ass....don't buy the tomato.

Today I had the cold hamburger sandwich I have dreamed about. My brother BBQ'd some burgers and I saved one for the fridge. I put the cold burger on a big hunk of sourdough with mayo, Dijon mustard, ice-berg lettuce, and a big dill pickle. Wow! I loved it. It is important to cut the cold burger in half and lightly salt the insides of the cold burger. Oh...I also had some left over cooked, but cold onions. Double Wow!

Rob

I had so intended to blog every day this month...or at least a lot of consecutive days....but yesterday I just didn't feel like it. I woke a little light headed, by noon was ditzy and by late afternoon became gaga before finally avoiding an out-right swoon by crawling into bed before 9pm. There wasn't anything on TV to watch anyway.

Making matters worse, I had been dreaming about my meatloaf sandwich since Saturday and just didn't have the energy to create one. Ended up with a couple of potato-flour white bread sandwiches. One a PB&J sandwich made with Dillman Farm All-Natural Peanut Butter and some huckleberry jelly from the Huckleberry Festival in Bingen, Washington. I toasted the the other sandwich slices, coverered the warm toast with peanut butter and sliced banana and sprinkled with cinnamon. I was almost out of milk (barely half a glass) and too lazy to go to the store so after stretching what milk I had with tiny sips, finished off the sandwiches with Cherry Kool-Aid.

My brother is BBQing burgers tomorrow and he has promised me a couple of extra to bring home with me. Now I'm dreaming of Thursday and a cold hamburger sandwich. I'll be in heaven.

Rob

A while back I was talking on the phone to my brother, Tim, and he was telling me some story about a comment his wife had made. The context of the account isn't important. What happened though, I laughed so hard that I fainted! Anyone who has ever fainted understands the strange feeling you have when you return to the concious world. It takes a moment for your mind to process where you are and why you are where you are. When I regained awareness it took me a moment to understand why I was slumped in chair and why my phone was between my body and the cushions and why my brother was no longer on the phone. It seems when I went silent, Tim had waited a few moments, hung up the phone and went to bed. It was until 20 minutes later when I called to explain why I had disappeared that they found out it was because I passed out.

I tell this story because this morning I came close again. I was watching a DVR of Dame Edna on some British show I recorded last night and I began laughing so hard I felt conciousness slipping away and was only saved by the pause button. When it is finally time to "....shed this mortal coil..." I hope this is how it is. Come to think of it if the end had come during that phone call with my brother or this morning watching Dame Edna, how wonderful it would be to have actually died laughing.

At some point in the last 25 years I read a Nero Wolfe mystery in which the title character and his chef, Fritz, are having a disagreement over how to cook scrambled eggs. Nero Wolfe suggests that any scrambled eggs that haven't been cooked for at least 40 minutes are inedible. You do realize that you have to cook them VERY slow for the cooking to take forty minutes. I have tried many times in the ensuing years and this morning achieved a personal best cooking my scrambled eggs for just over 34 minutes. Cooked in real butter and accompanied by some apple-maple-pork sausage and sourdough toast, the eggs were as creamy as melted ice-cream.

Nothing much on TV tonight. I'm looking forward to season 3 of Dexter, The Closer, the new episodes of Burn Notice and of course all the various reality competitions. Nothing on the horizon that will make me faint.

Rob

Went to see Zodan this afternoon and laughed my ass off. I am just sophomoric enough to find it very humorous. If the Arabs were upset with the Danish cartoons, this movie should put them in a frenzy. Good!

Saw the woman from last night again today. I told her I was going to the movies and she told me she hadn't been to a movie in 22 years. Can you imagine that? She missed Porky's and Porky's II...not to mention Deuce Bigalow! And that movie with Luicano Pavoratti....

Anyway, I have a veal meatloaf in the oven and plan to eat my dinner and watch the last two episodes of Dexter, Season II. Later sweet cheeks!

Rob

Why is it that where ever I live, I am surrounded by nuts! I spent a lot of San Francisco time surrounded by a cast of seriously psychotic people and it seems I have found the local mental institution. Just after lunch I took off and spent the day and evening with some friends. When I walked through the lobby door upon returning, my arms were full of packages and plastic bags and thankfully one of the other tenants was there to open the door for me. Her courtesty required me to listen to her complaints. It seems the the Fire Department across the street has been making a lot of unnecessary calls. The woman told me she doubted there were THAT many emergencies. (Of course...the Fire Department guys every so often turn on the sirens and drive around the block just to bug the old ladies in this building!...)...Also, she was wondering who to call because the planes have been flying too low, people have been slamming their car doors late at night ("Why can't they close them softly?")...and today the mail man was a different guy and didn't look 'kosher'. I am not exactly sure how to interpret that...if he didn't look 'kosher' does that mean the mailman wasn't circumsized?...or likes bagels and...peanut butter....or was just a crook who killed the regular guy and was stealing everyone's Suave Conditioner Sample? I shouldn't be surprised because last summer at the building picnic I was told that V.P. Cheney helped destroy the Trade Center, Roosevelt died in 1940 and was replaced by a double....and so was Churchill....and Bush should be tried and hanged...and....Kennedy was killed by Nixon...and the FBI....and ...and....and.....

I have never been much for fish sticks. Actually I have never tasted one. As a kid, Fridays were meatless for our family and I ate a lot of mushroom sauce spaghetti and grilled cheese sandwiches. For lunch today I stepped back into that Friday comfort food with a steaming bowl of tomato soup, lightly flavored with basil, and a three-cheese (Cheddar, Jack, and Mozzarella) grilled sandwich. I buttered both sides of a couple of slices of country white bread and piled on the cheeses. I cheated by sticking it in the microwave for about 15 seconds before grilling in a moderately hot skillet. I wanted to make sure the cheese melted and mingled without burning the butter. With grilled cheese sandwiches I have a foible. I dip them in ketchup. The sandwich, tomato soup and a glass of ice-cold milk and I was 12 again!

My webmaster is doing his monthly Air National Guard duty this week-end, so it will be Monday or Tuesday before the next chapter is posted. I'm already working on Chapter 23...

Hope you are all having a great week-end!

Rob

Since I am just killing some time before catching a movie, I thought I'd update you on my Chapter 22 progress. It is finished and just waiting for some fine tuning. Chapter 23 is in the early stages. As My Story progresses it seems to become more personal and perhaps that can be translated to more boring. Well, it's My Story and I'm sticking to it.

I've decided to catch Ironman. Its been out for weeks and I better check it out before it beats me to DVD. Only other new movie is the Sex In The City movie and I'd rather be in a major bike/car accident, run over by the ambulance driven by an EMT with a gorrilla on his back, delivered to the operating room to a surgeon who just secretly drank a quart of Jack Daniels before OD'ing on BreathSavers and as the life saving procedure begins the hospital oxygen tanks explode and every fire-hydrant between Duluth and Nova Scotia dries up just as a gang of hydrophobic chimpanzees escape from Chimp Eden and steal 1,000 typewriters in an attempt to duplicate the writings of Shakespeare than see Sex In The City.

I probably will skip the popcorn and just enjoy a Clif Bar during the movie. Last night I baked a couple of chicken breasts with hungarian paprika, garlic, and onions and put them in the fridge. For lunch I hand sliced a couple of thick pieces of 8 grain bread and buttered one slice. I piled a sliced chicken breast onto one slice and covered it with an ample dollop of home-made mayonaise mixed with just a drop or two of fresh lemon juice. I sprinkled cold-cooked spinach and sliced black olives on top of the mayo and covered it all with the other bread slice. Cut on the bias with a half a cup of cottage cheese sprinkled with parmesan cheese and sliced Roma tomatoes on the side, I won't need No Stinkin' Popcorn.

Question: What is your favorite song from the 'Disco Era'? Later.....Rob

Well! So far June is much better than May. I was actually putting some finishing touches on Chapter 22 for My Story and in addition to a break for lunch, thought I would do a bit of blogging. My friend, Rachel, whom I have know for 25 years is a wonderful blogger on My Space and she has shamed me into being more attentive to THIS...my personal blog. She and I are both aghast at the news of Clay Aikman's turkey-baster father-hood. I fixed a wonderful sandwich for lunch. On a couple of slices of crusty sourdough wheat bread I buttered one slice, piled on a couple of slices of canned Argentinian corned beef, a couple of very thin-sliced purple onion and some home-made Russian dressing with just a tad of horse-radish. It was so messy and crumbly I ended up eating it leaning over the sink.

Speaking of Clay Aikman, are all the 'hosts' on QVC and HSN gay? I sort of expect a flamer to be peddling women's make-up, hair-products, and stretch plus-size Capri pants but when they are selling a power washer and the host talks to a customer why do they ALWAYS end the phone call by saying, "Bub-Bi?" Why not Good Bye? Or why not, "See you"? or how about "Later"? or even "get off the phone, loser". Anything but...."BUB-BI".

Someone just wrote and asked me if I had any audio tapes of shows on KDWB. Hmmmm. Not really. Oh, well. What's the deal with Madilyn Migden...or whatever her name is...? Her entire face is petrified. Really. You don't even know who she is. You don't care. Well then.....Bub-bi.

Rob

I can understand if nobody reads this since my attention to my blog has been spotty at best. But....what a crazy week it was! I ended up having to spend a couple of nights in the hospital for some tests. I can assure you it wasn't something I planned because they were just super. Almost every business could use some of the 'people skills' exhibited by the staff of St. Lukes. In spite of that...hospitals suck.

The beds aren't comfortable and it is difficult to sleep on your back when you are used to sleeping on your side. You are connected to all sorts of machines and regularly prodded and poked. Dracula's minions stop by all through the night to get him a snack and because my test involved an incision in the upper leg there was an unnatural interest in my groin. Every nurse and doctor who came in the room was overcome with an immediate desire to check my groin. It seemed like some checked it a bit too often. I assure you I am not making any claim to groin uniqueness. In fact, as groins go, it is rather unspectacular. So there were at least 4 doctors who checked my groin as well as four nurses. I got concerned when my groin was also checked by a guy with "Maintainance" on his shirt pocket, the lady from the gift shop in the lobby, and the wife of the guy in the next bed. One guy was waiting for a bus and killed some time by coming up to check my groin. The final straw was when a doctor arrived with candles, a nice bottle of wine, and a gypsy violinist. He wanted to check my groin but only if I checked his too.

Well, I am happy to say, a couple of hours ago I checked my own groin. (Bless me Father, for I have sinned.) It was fine. Except for some new life-sustaining (or quality of life destroying) meds, I am back at the computer with just a blip in my continuing ennui.

Hope everyone is doing well and....

"....think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye."

Rob

No explanation. Just accept my lame excuses (implied) and we'll get on with it. At least I have been diligent in providing new fodder to the readers of My Story. At times I am so overwhelmed by the sheer brass I exhibit; writing about my career as if it amounted to something. Consider yourselves bystanders. I enjoy writing it and if, like someone overhearing a private conversation, you enjoy reading it then there has been some nice reach-around and life is good.

Why do people order Chinese or Thai food and suddenly have the urge to eat with chopsticks? I don't understand that. I had a good friend who was from Taiwan. Watching him use chopsticks was almost a magical experience. He could pick up a single grain of rice as easily as I can dip a French fry in ketchup. I was watching someone in the food court at the Mall eating their Panda Express with chopsticks and HIS dexterity made me hope he had a lot of time for lunch. Use a fork! Chopsticks are great for people born to them, but the western world has invented some better utensils. Spoons being the best. Forks being very good. Knives don't count because they were original invented for killed...not eating. For some guy to sit in the Mall eating Chinese fast-food with chopsticks is ridiculous. After he leaves the Mall he can stop at his rice paddy and take a crap. Then hop in a rick-shaw and hurry home to bind his daughter's feet.

Well....I am glad I am back but not so happy about my cantankerous and judgemental mood.

Robbie

Years ago when I lived on McKnight Road on the Eastern border of St. Paul, there was a strip mall across the Freeway called Sunset or Sunrise or Sun-something. Once when attempting to pull into a parking space an old lady...I mean 80's at least...cut me off and when I tooted at her she flipped me the bird. When I told my older brother about that, we got a good laugh trying to imagine OUR grandmother (who emigrated from Sweden in 1892)giving someone the finger. This comes to mind because over the week-end, as I was pulling into a parking space at Cub Foods, I was purposefully cut off by some 20-something. My reflexes are very slow when it comes to beeping the car-horn, but I fumbled about and gave a rather anemic toot. Sometimes I am a very accomplished lip-reader and it wasn't difficult to figure out she said, "Shut the fuck up"...and in some sort of uncharacteristic lapse I flipped her off. I can just imagine her telling her friends that some grandfatherly guy gave her the finger at Cub.

This reminds me of when I would ride the city bus and laugh at the weird looking people as they climbed on. I, then, was doubly chagrined when I noticed kids laughing among themselves when I got on a bus.

btw...today the temp was well into the 70's and tonight I plan to sleep with an open window. What a wonderful world we live in.

It's been a good couple of days and tomorrow I think I shall veg....I'm getting very good at doing that.

Rob

Finally, April Blog content! I told you....and you doubted me...that I would post at least two chapters before April 15th. I did! If you meander over to My Story, you'll see Chapter 18 and Chapter 19. They are both around 9-10 pages long so there is lot of reading to do. Perhaps, since the period I'm writing about is an out-of-radio time, it may be a little too personal for those who just want the broadcasting skinny. Sorry. This is really the only time I'll ever be able to put this crap down on paper (electronically or whatever) and long after I'm gone will remain as a little reminder to my family and anyone else who cares.

I have to catch up on some replies to emails outstanding. All at the top of my list of things to do. This week I also need to buy some Comet Cleanser. I have become absolutely obsessed with having a clean bathroom. There is a TV show on BBC-America where these two women clean homes in Great Britain that are beyond just messy. These are the most filthy places I have ever seen. It is almost impossible to imagine a human being living in these conditions. I mentioned to my brother, that if the truth were known, there are people within a mile of where I sit right now with houses as dirty as any they show from England.

If you haven't seen this show, you have no idea how dirty these places are. Maggots, mouse droppings, dust, dirty, rotten food, insects, mold, and mounds of junk are the norm. The bathrooms...almost make me gag just to think of them. I understand that men sometimes have 'aiming' problems but those are weiner aiming problems. Some of these people have aiming problems from the other side. Women as well as men. One of these women refers to the 'ur-eine' stains and 'bottom throttle' remains. If the bathrooms are beyond belief, the bedrooms are.....well, I can't think of a word. How can one comfortable crawl into a bed that hasn't had a sheet change in a couple of years!!! Seriously!

Since watching this show, I swear, bathroom or not, you could eat off any surface in my bathroom without the merest qualm. Well, maybe not...but....I have been lately cleaning my bathroom daily! I even have a dedicated toothbrush for cracks and crevices. I bought mounds of silicone calking and have elminated many of those cracks and crevices, but the ones that remain are clean daily. Any splatter lasts hardly 24 hours. Not that one should associate me with splatter of any kind.

I have always considered myself an adequate housekeeper, but NOW....I was a philistine when it came to bathroom cleanliness. Not anymore. I daily go into the bathroom to shower, scrub, spray, roll-on, fluff, powder, and douche. I also clean up myself while I'm in there.

I hope you enjoy the latest offerings and I look forward to hearing from you. Take care.

"...I am the demon cleaner who saves the day...."

Rob

I just haven't felt up to spending time in front of this computer and I hope that explains that lack of attention in the past couple of weeks. I have been ill, but as I told my brother, earlier this week I was 80% ill and today I am 68% ill. So I am getting better. Main problem is that sitting here in an up-right position makes me dizzy. Of course, dizzy is my usual state. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I don't know if you've checked out the website but the chapters in My Story have been consolidated and the chapter navigation is much much improved. Now I must, as promised provide you with a wrap-up of my career in Minnesota and the move to the land of the fruits and nuts. Before April 15th.

Hope your Easter was nice. Mine wasn't.

Rob

Since I don't work, I don't get excited about week-ends. This year, though, the HD live broadcasts of the Metropolitan Opera have given me something to look forward to on Saturday afternoons. Peter Grimes was the opera this past Saturday so I joined the cotton-tops and enjoyed myself thoroughly. (The title character is driven to madness by rumor and accusations so it isn't a happy subject) I have no explanation why I love this music. It gives me a reason to consider the weekend, special.

Hope you all had a good week-end whatever you planned. The changes on the website progressing and if you check out you'll notice the various threads are all contained now in one series of chapters...My Story. And My Story will continue with the period between July 1978 and December 1979 when I left radio the first time. I am writing it in dribs and drabs at the moment. I looked at my mail and there are a bunch of people I owe mail to and I am taking care of that tomorrow.

I was going to write some more but all of a sudden my head is heavy with weariness....so, to bed!

Rob

I have made no secret that I am an American Idol fan. Not only do I watch it (without fail), but I chat about it, read the blogs, and follow the subsequent careers of losers. I am not surprised that one of my favorite forwarders, emailers, commenters, and bloggers has the opposite view. He mailed me:

have never liked that show...yes theres been a few good singers on it...and in the beginning of the shows run i did watch it to give it a chance and it was kind of fun to watch... but now it just getting ridiculous.... now thier going to get singers to do Beatle Songs.... this is one show along with many i will really be sure to miss..... that show reminds me of a bunch of karoke singers in a bar... and who are the judges to say what good talent is?!!!! Simon is a tv show producer nothing else.... another is in the record bussiness but ive never heard of him untill that show.. and the girl? she has not had a hit record since the mid 80s and they all sucked.... (my opinion..) to me the show is just another waste of time...if watching it i could be doing more constructive with my t.v. time.... which lately nothing has really grabbed my attention so i keep it off..... reality tv.... hummmmmm is there any reality on tv?.....

I so disagree with so much of what the wonderful Axman wrote. Don't confuse Simon COWELL with Simon FULLER. The latter one is the TV producer. Randy has worked with some of the biggest in the music business and I LOVE Paula. (She squeezed my knee!) But all that isn't the important thing. What attracts me to American Idol also attracts me to a whole slew of 'reality TV' shows. Hell's Kitchen, Top Chef, Last Restaurant Standing, Ramsay's Nightmares, as well as So You Think You Can Dance, Runway, and on and on.... These shows all have one thing in common. The contestants, almost without fail, have a dedication and passion for their 'thing' that makes me ashamed to have ever claimed a similar feeling. Here are people so obsessed by their own vision they sacrifice EVERYTHING for it. Those who don't make that sacrifice don't make the cut. In this world, talent doesn't grow roses. It helps. Add to the talent some dedication, encouragment, obsession and a bit of luck. There is the stew that awes me as I watch it unfold on TV.

Last spring I spent a couple of weeks in England with a friend and his family. I have known him for over 35 years. When he was 16 he went to school during the day and worked at a bakery beginning each morning at 3am. That ungodly job provided the money for ballet lessons his parents refused to pay for or support. What drove a 14 year old boy to know in the depth of his soul he HAD to dance ballet? Where does that come from?

I just thought of the guy on the Animal Planet show Escape From Chimp Eden who wanted to be a computer programmer but has now dedicated his life to saving abused chimps. Damn! I admire people who sacrifice for their dreams. Sorry Axman, I used you to climb on my soapbox. The last time I suffered such umbrage was when someone in 1975 wrote in a radio-industry trade-sheet that Disneyland WASN'T the Happiest Place On Earth and he was bored by the place.

Rob

PS: I once considered going to Calcutta to work with Mother Teresa but changed my mind when I found out she didn't have cable.

I met my brother for Chinese buffet this afternoon and now it's late and the MSG is keeping me at this infernal machine. I got to the place early to give me a chance to eat some salad before he arrived. Otherwise, I'm eating salad and he's diving in to fried rice and our buffet procedure is out of whack. Anyway, while I'm sitting there one of the guys in the next booth decided to blow his nose just as I was digging into some egg foo yung. It was a quick sniff blow but a prolonged evacuation of all this sinuses as well as the sinuses of half the restaurant. It sounded like the opening scene of the witches in Macbeth. The contents of his nose bubbled and roiled. It was Mount St. Helena just before the big blow. It sounded like a huge pot of oatmeal. It put me off my moo goo gai pan.What is wrong with some people?

I couldn't help thinking of the joke I heard when I was about 8 years old. It involved a barrel with a dead Chinese guy and a soda straw in each nose poking through a hole in the top. I don't remember the joke but it was disgusting.

Speaking of jokes, I am putting a link here to one of the most disgusting and perverted jokes you will ever hear. If you ever want to be the same again you won't listen to it because it is rank beyond perverted belief. I should tell you that when I was watching it the first time, I was laughing so hard I had to pause because I was losing my breath and was seriously afraid I would have a stroke...or at the least black out, collapse and do a William Holden. You have been warned. I am serious. It is horrible and just thinking about it makes me want to shower. If you are a parent and ever want to look your children in the eye again, don't follow the link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tw10xa_xtNg&feature=related

American Idol is very good this year and a couple of the songs the guys sang on Tuesday were beyond belief. So good. Vantage Point is a good movie. The Metropolitan Opera rocks. Winter sucks.

Rob

A couple of weeks ago I was working on the next chapter for the web-site. I was concerned that I was repeating a story so I tried to check it out in previous chapters. That's when I realized the whole thing was a mess. Over the last 4 years I've followed so many different threads with so much time between writing, it got confused and repetitive. Not for long. In a few days all the chapters in My Story and The Twin Cities years will be re-posted with more cogency, a little more continuity, and a lot less repetition. Nothing is being removed and the story remains as was originally written. The grammar gets a little better, some of the typos are corrected and my frequent apologies for delays eliminated.

If anyone wants to keep any of the original musings, copy and paste now, because soon they go away.

After the re-posting you might like to re-read some to see what you missed in the previous mess. The Prologue plus Chapters 1-17 plus the new one coming soon will be My Story soon. And at long last the California years begin before April.

Thanks for sticking with me and now that THAT project is over I can get back to puerile blogging in this space.

Rob

It will probably be weeks before anyone finds this blog. After weeks of checking and finding nothing, the few who are regularly with me get out of the habit and I will whistle in the wind for a while.

January was a record breaking month with 11 blogs and February is the current record holder with only one. This one. Notice though, that last November was scant also. When I travel my contact with the computer gets compromised by other pursuits.

Actually, I have lots to talk about....many things to rant about....and much catch up to accomplish. At the moment though, I shall bask in the beautiful weather (in the 20's!) and go see a movie. If I am really feeling wild and craaazeee I'll stop at WalMart and browse the cheap DVD bin.

Time to get busy, right?

Rob

On this last day of January, I HAD to do some blogging. The monthly blog record was already broken, but an extra bit of frosting on the cake won't hurt.

Many people in the Minnesota part of the country will tell you their favorite season is Fall. There is much to like. Brisk temperatures, crystal clear shocking-blue skies, and that lovliest of events...the Indian Summer. But think about this. In the Autumn there is nothing to look forward to but WINTER! However, on those bitter cold winter days, with nothing to recommend them, you know that soon it will be SPRING!

"Oh. Wind. If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" Some nineteenth century poet nailed it with that one.

I didn't get a January My Story episode completed but I'll finish it soon and nag and carp until it gets posted. "A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing". Now THAT is Shakespeare! Way to go Willie.

BTW, I am a man of many pantronymics and Sherwood is just one of them. More people know me by that name and call me Rob, than any of the others. I am no longer in radio but you can still call me Rob. I have many names. For years the alumni of U100 called me Buns. A few diehards used Wonder Buns. While working at FM104 with Gary DeMaroney he called me Buns. Somewhere in Utah, on a Greyhound bus, some smart-ass teenagers started calling me Scrappy. There are a bunch in SF who still use that name. The name Buff was always problematic so I often used the name Michael. I have friends in Taiwan who call me by that name and even another in LA who uses Mike. I like nicknames.

I am back in Northern Minnesota for the Super Bowl. Funny, because they're holding it in Arizona! I went to some fabulous Super Bowl parties in San Francisco, but none are so much fun as spending it with my slightly retarded brothers. Besides, San Francisco is just losing its panache. Most of the time it is just another big-dirty-fucked up city with hills. At least it isn't boring. In Duluth I get a thrill going to the food-court at the Mall or eating lunch at Old Country Buffet. In San Francisco I went to a porno store and the customers were freaking because they no longer carry the whopper. I guess it is what you are in the mood for.

Enjoy the Super Bowls...I personally would like to see an upset. See you in February....

Rob

You know we are getting closer to the Central Valley of California in the Never Ending Story because the Modesto-ites, or Modestinians, Modestopods, or what-ever are become roused by the boredom of the almost 20 years of prologue. There are a couple of regulars who prod me forward in anticipation and a newbie who just wrote the other day. (Heidi....I loved your email and meant to reply but must have oops!'d it. Write again.) I will write a bunch about the Morning Show Live Studio Audience 8-9 years down the line (in the story). Heidi reminded me of the Morning Show connection to Paula Abdul. She once squeezed my knee, but that is another story. (I needed the money) For some reason, in 1990 or so, we started doing some in-studio things to entertain the Live Audience. For some other reason, this included a lame Chippendale dance to Cold Hearted. Under my clothes, I would be prepared with a pair of red, white and black spandex bike shorts. These would be revealed during a promptu strip-tease. (We planned it so it couldn't be impromptu. Right?)

Eventually, the music and dance were done only in-studio, while something else was actually on-the-air. Heidi says she has a video. That got me wondering how many other people have videos and/or pictures. I remember a lot of photographing going on. Imagine years from now when someone looks at a picture of this guy with scraggly-blonde hair, a flowing silk shirt and red, white and black speedos dancing his ass off in a broadcast studio. (Lots of changes in the old Rob in California)There will be a few 'wtf's' right before the picture is consigned to the trash.

These were a few of my happiest years and now I can't wait to get to that part of My Story.

So there I was, sitting at a bar at a restaurant in San Francisco when Paul Abdul squeezed my knee and said, "Rob, you are so funny!" Now I watch her on American Idol and wonder if I still want her to squeeze my knee and if I am still "so funny".

Rob

My brother is on his way with his jump machine. The cold was too much for the land-boat I drive here and rather than grind the battery down to click-click-click, I just said, "f-it" and returned to the TV and the Giant's glorious victory over the legions of evil.

The Packers haven't always been at the bottom of my hit-parade or the top of my shit list. After all, I worked in Green Bay and watched the games every week-end. I actually knew Bart Starr and saw the other greats of that era regularly about town. There is always a soft spot in my heart for the hapless Vikings, always the bridesmaid and never the bride. Or an even better one: jilted at the altar....FOUR TIMES! Still, as I moved about the country I adopted the local team so I will admit I was a Seattle Seahawks fan, a super 49'ers fan (almost obsessed on that one) and shamefully, at one time I rooted for the Pack. It was easy though because at least in one case they played Dallas and that team spends the off-season on one of the lower rings of Hell.

If the Pack had won, I would be a Patriots fan. Now I can go with the underdawg and hope for the upset. Either way, the chicken wings will be spicy and the chips full of dip.

That cold in Green Bay you saw on TV, I remember well. In late December of 1966, my Pontiac Catalina convertible decided it would rather fight than run and I was forced to walk to work. About a mile. It wasn't the first time because there wasn't any convenient parking next to the radio station building in the downtown. Not only did I walk to work but I frequently RAN home. Now it was winter, the car wasn't cooperating and I bundled up like Roger Staubuck and got to work. For the next 2 1/2 months. When I finally decided it was time to get the car going, it started without too much problem but the wheels were frozen to the ground. I had to get warm water and splash about before I could move them.

Maybe I'll just walk where I have to go and run back. And maybe I'll plan for a cardiac infarction later this afternoon. Something to break the ennui.

Rob

It was too cold today to do anything.