Category Archives: Personal History

Steve’s temp tattoo

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tattoo250-dcI came this close to getting a tattoo while in D.C. last week. Changed my mind at the last minute and knew immediately it was the right decision. It wasn’t the permanence of a tattoo that changed my mind. Rather, the insight that tattoos are not permanent.

Oh sure, that ink will be beneath your skin for a lifetime, but how long is that, really. A blink of the Cosmic Eye. Is there really that much difference between a child’s lick-it-and-stick-it tattoo and an some elaborate kanji that translates to: “I’m a dip-shit who thinks this is ‘Bad Ass’ in Japanese?”

If you’ve stayed with me this far, you can understand why the Sharpie-drawn fez by the talented Mr. Roe has the same metaphysical lifespan as any other tattoo.

Future of radio?

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After a morning at the Spy Museum and the Lincoln Memorial, we grabbed a taxi back to the hotel for lunch and R&R. The driver asked if he could keep it on the station he was listening to –it was in a foreign language– because the news was on. We said sure.

When it sounded like the news was over, I asked what language was being spoken. It was an Ethiopian station out of NYC. I wondered where else he might get news about Ethiopia. And how many other people in this country have few or no sources for news from their home country.

Could this be a possible future for “terrestrial radio?” Or, perhaps it’s present. I think most big cities have stations programming for those we once referred to as “minorities.” Which, I suppose, is the only place this makes sense. Not a lot of Ethiopians in Western Kansas.

Reminds me of the days of “block programming.” One 15 minute chuck after another, each segment different from the one before and after.

If there were only some way to return radio to the people. To let them decide how their “airways” would be used.

Paul Roe, British Ink

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I jammed my way into some very crowded Metro cars to make my way down to M Street where Paul Roe [Fez #30], the owner of British Ink was taking part in an art exhibition called Artomatic. Paul was doing pre-session consultations while his colleague, Cynthia, hummed away on a guy’s right bicep. He squeezed me in for a chat and I even got to sit in the tattoo chair. The interview ran just under 12 minutes.

D.C. in July

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Barb and I will try to do a little sight-seeing while in D.C. The International Spy Museum is on our short list. Claims to be the the only public museum in the United States solely dedicated to espionage.

Picture 2“The Museum features the largest collection of international espionage artifacts ever placed on public display. Many of these objects are being seen by the public for the first time. These artifacts illuminate the work of famous spies and pivotal espionage actions as well as help bring to life the strategies and techniques of the men and women behind some of the most secretive espionage missions in world history.”

One of her conference events will be held at the Newseum so we might get to see some of that. And hope to make it to Britishink, where Paul Roe (Fez #30) wields the needle.

Desk Calendar (June 1984)

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I’m pretty sure June 4, 1984, was my first official day at Learfield Communications. And since 25 years feels like something of a milestone, I’ve been trying to come up with something to post here to mark the date.

June, 1984

The calendar [larger image] above was on my desk that first month and means absolutely nothing to anyone that wasn’t around back then. And not much to the handful that was (Clyde, Roger, Bob), so I’ve annotated a few entries to jog their memories.

With good jobs hard to keep and harder to find these days, let the record show I am one lucky web boy. Can’t wait to see what the next 25 brings.

My kind of war

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I’ve read a lot news stories, blog posts and tweets this weekend, reminding everyone to remember the men and women who served and died in defense of our country. How best to do that? Little American flags? Those magnetic yellow “Support Our Troops” ribbons?

John MaysMy dad was in the Navy (a radio operator) and saw action in the pacific during WWII. He survived but never talked about it. To me or anyone else as far as I know. I do recall my mom telling me how relieved everyone was when it “started looking like we would win” the war. That was the first time I really understood it was possible for our country to lose a war. The movies always included some drama on that score but you knew the good guys would prevail. Not so for those who fought the thing.

Perhaps the best time to remember our men and women in uniform is before we send them off to fight and die. And if the cause isn’t just and right –whatever that means anymore– we don’t send them.

I grew up during the Cold War and I kind of miss it. If you think about it, a thermonuclear war is the only war where the politicians –who decide to go to war– might die in the first ten minutes. That is my kind of war.

“Eternity is a very long time, especially towards the end.”

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One of our networks received an email from a listener/reader this week, objecting to our use of the adjective "elderly" to describe a 56 year old woman who was killed in a tornado. I'm sure I once considered 56 "elderly" (ancient?) but no longer.

The next day I received a phone call from an old friend of my father, Luther Pillow. He's 86 and still works ("when I want to"). Sounded very healthy and sharp. Assured me he'd get back online and check out my KBOA website.

In a little more than two weeks, I will have been working for our company for 25 years. Have you figured out the math yet?

Mr. Pillow is 25 years older than I. Which means –health and circumstances permitting– I might be nearing the halfway point in my current employment.

Think of it. 50 years with one company. And what changes will I see in the next quarter century?

No, I don't think 56 is elderly.

Headline is a quote by Stephen Hawking

“Homeless American”

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adv4foodOn the way home from the airport yesterday I gave some money to a man sitting at an intersection. I don’t usually do that and I’m not sure why I did this time. But I think it was something about the sign he was holding. It read simply: “Homeless American.”

Now, I don’t know if he was homeless (he looked the part) or American, but something about the sign spoke to me. The simplicity? Maybe. For the rest of my trip I thought about the signs used by… beggars? Too Third World. Panhandlers? Let’s go with that.

How important is the sign? Without it, I might have thought he was just looking for a ride, so I think the sign is a must. Usually brown cardboard and almost always lettered with black marker.

But most important of all would seem to be what your sign says. Haven’t seen “will work for food” for a while (Sounds a little too much like a negotiation.) Can’t be too long if you’re working an intersection or even busy pedestrians.

Is there some secret list of Great Signs That Work Every Time? I’m thinking it ain’t on line so they must move it from hand to hand.

Some would insist the guy I saw —and those like him— are lazy and could get a job if they wanted one. I’m not so sure.

Tessie Hubbard is Panty Mython

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Tessie Hubbard (aka Panty Mython) has produced more than 80 videos that have been viewed more than 34,000 times by a thousand YouTube subscribers. Along the way she managed to watch some 25,000 videos.

We bumped into each other online and she was kind enough to meet me at the Coffee Zone this morning to talk about her work/play/art. For someone who is so comfortable in front of the camera, she seemed a little shy but that’s common with most of the people I stalk. It is my fondest desire to someday collaborate with her on a project. And for goodness sake, watch some of her videos.