Stormy weather....

     There is nothing more fun than driving with your friend visiting from Florida as your city is in the grip of a full fledged ice storm.   You see, my friend Bob, aka Mr. X, is here on business from Florida.  We always make it a point to get together when he is in town.  He gets his Mr. X name from his days as a character on my morning show in Wichita.  He is a radio legend in his own mind.  He is originally from Kansas but either has lost his ability to navigate a car during an ice storm or he is still crazy.  I knew it was going to be trouble when we started skidding sideways.  Most people would blurt out a healthy expletive but Mr. X handed me his beer and said, "I'm gonna try something!" 

     Normally ice and snow doesn't bother me but the "Joe Diffie", my 1997 Ford F-150 is only hitting on 6 cylinders, has no weight for traction in the back and has mostly bald tires because he needs ball joints and chews up tires pretty fast making traction somewhat of a joke.  I've had the Joe Diffie since 1998 and he has 180,000 miles so, we have history!

So, three inches of ice today and up to a foot of snow tomorrow.  I love the midwest but I don't understand that they call off school, certain work shifts and other activities but the never call off the radio shifts.  Some mysteries will never be solved.

It's begining to look...

    We are so pitiful!  It's Thanksgiving and as you may know, as the kids get older, they tend to go elsewhere for Thanksgiving.  As three of us sat around the Tanksgiving feast Stacy had prepared,  turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, broccoli chesse casserole and green bean caserole, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake and pumpkin roll, we were reminded of just how pitiful yet delicious our existence is. 

     We had decided that we might want to help others this Thanksgiving and volunteer at the mission, but alas, they were staffed and didn't need us around spreading our holiday indifference.  So, we decided that our herd of animals might want a fun Thanksgiving, so it was off to the dog run.  The lizards didn't want to go, the cat, being 142 years old in cat years, wasn't up for for the possibility of breaking a hip, Carleigh's hamster felt he was too far down the food chain to survive, so it was just us and the dogs. 

     Upon returning home at sunset, IT WAS TIME TO EAT AGAIN!!!  So, turkey sandwiches, reconstituted mashed potatoes and all the rest were set before us again for the evening feast.  We finished up the turkey, feeling lucky we even had one this year as Dakota, my boxer, fetched the frozen Dolly Parton sized turkey breast from the sink where it was thawing last year and proceeded to eat what she could down in the dog run and was trying to bury the rest.  Needless to say, I was cleaning up mudding dog prints that evening and in the morning I was cleaning up semi digested turkey that her body rejected. 

     I guess all in all, we are giving thanks again this year for  having our health, not being totally destitute and knowing that things can only get better.  I'm not having so many dizzy spells, Stacy starts a new job this week, and best of all, Christmas shopping will be easy this year as we will be able to do it all in the Dollar store because the company who bought my radio station doesn't contribute to the cost of health insurance so Blue Cross, Blue Shield of Georgia get most of my paycheck so their families can make their BMW payments.

     I love this time of the year!

 

 

Dragnet Theme Here....

     I now believe that it is impossible to win in traffic court.  I, of course, was in traffic court again last Friday for the Westwood Kansas traffic stop.  It's funny, Officer Friendly could remember the tiniest, minute details of the events leading up to the traffic stop but could not remember for the life of him anything else.  He remembered where he was sitting when I committed my traffic sin but not exactly where he pulled me over.  He remembered I was talking on my cell phone when I went past him but not if I was still on it when he stopped me. He could remember explaining the ticket to me in a nice courteous manner but not his use of the term bull***t.  Apparently it is ok to use profanity on routine traffic stops.  He didn't know what a "dash cam" was, but he knew what a "cruiser camera" was.  He didn't know what a "courtesy" or "fix it" ticket was, but he knew what a "warning" ticket was.  He claimed there is no such thing as a "quota" for writing tickets.  He remembered exactly how many DUI tickets he had written in the past year, (61) but he could not remember when he turned on his flashing lights to pull me over.

     This reminded me of something right out of the twilight zone.  The Judge (Ted Turner, for real) looked giant up on his bench, like a vulture looking into a giant doorknob...and the prosecutor, in his polyester Sears suit loomed over me like the hangman at a linching.  The officer had not a personality anywhere on or in his body.  He smelled of gunpowder and had fresh eyebrow hair stuck in the butt of his gun from his last pistol whipping for a burnt out tail light.  I felt like I was the village idiot expected to automatically know how the court system works.  I would be interested to know where Mr. Prosecutor went to law school. 

     I thought I had the case won right away when I finally got out of Officer Friendly that there was indeed a camera in his cruiser video taping our entire exchange.  And since it is the burdon of the prosecutor to prove me guilty and the very piece of evidence that would clearly expose my guilt or innocence was not produced in court.  Instead, it always boils down to the officer's word against the motorist.  How does the officer's word automatically mean the motorist is guilty?  Especially when there was evidence that may have been left behind on purpose?  You cannot win!

     On the bright side, Judge Ted Turner did throw out the burned out license plate light fine of $90 or so.  He actually believed me that I had replaced it the day after the stop. 

     I can't wait for Officer Friendly to stop me again.  If they found me with 9 bullets in my back, a burned out headlight and Officer Friendly standing over me with an empty gun and smoke pouring from the barrel...would they rule it a suicide or that Officer Friendly just forgot you shouldn't shoot motorists?  He doesn't have a very good memory you know.

 

A week to remember...

What a week it has been!   I spent all of Thursday in the emergency room at Shawnee Mission Medical Center.  I was lucky enough to get an EKG and a CATSCAN and about three pints of blood.  It all started last Friday when I had a couple of dizzy spells.  I immediately checked my hair color and it had not turned blonde so that diagnosis was out.  Over the weekend I had a few more and they continued to get longer and more nauseating as the week passed.  Then came the dreaded Wednesday night ride aboard the amusement park ride in my head called the VOMITRON!  I lost everything and repeated the process again Thursday after returning from the hospital.  Except Thursday I made my deposit on the front porch.  The world was spinning out of control.

It turns out I have an inner ear inflammation...VERTIGO!  I got some cool anti headspinning drugs and am patiently waiting for them to begin working.  This is the wierdest feeling I think I have ever had inside my head...besides the usual sophmoric thoughts.  As of Friday night, I am still having some spinning but I have managed to keep food down, for which Stacy is relieved since she had to clean off the front porch.

I think I'm going to hit the sack...I'm feeling a little woozy.  Nearer my soul to the toilet I be.  I think that was the last song played on the Titanic.  That is all...Peters out!

I'll Ho Ho Ho you...

     What started out as a lazy do nothing Sunday basically stayed that way all day.  But there were two events that were fun today.  First, I got a message from someone in my Wichita radio past.  Her name was Rebecca and she lives in Michigan now. I knew her and her sister Pam in my early days in Wichita.  I have a picture of her sister Pam and me together and Pam is wearing a "Tim Peters Fan" t shirt, circa 1982.  I even remembered her last name.  I sometimes amaze myself with my ability to remember the past.  It was great to hear from Rebecca and maybe I will hear from Pam also since they have found me on MySpace.com. 

     The other semi event in my day happened while Stacy and I were "picking up a few things" at WallyMart.  We were about to the back of the store by the tortillas, near the string cheese and almost to the yogurt when a couple of small kids were helping their dad shop by one pushing the shopping cart and the other riding in it.  As the little boy, the pusher was laying underneath the shopping cart while dad picked out some bologna, they blocked everyone in the aisle.  I was smiling at them laughing and having a good time when the little girl, who was riding in the cart suddenly stopped laughing and stared at me.  Now, usually when someone stares at someone in WallyMart, it means a fight will begin at any second.  Since I wasn't entirely sure I could take her dad, I just continued smiling. 

     What happened next nearly started a second fight.  The little girl looked at me intently and asked, "Are you Santa Claus?"  You see, I grew a goatee a while back and it came in blonde and I was wearing red.  I told her no I wasn't Santa, but I knew him.  Her dad was embarassed and said the beard threw her off and I said it was okay, but next time.....POW!  I immediately turned to Stacy and said "The beard is coming off!" 

     Stacy of course called me Santa the rest of the evening.  She said as the little girl and her dad passed her the little girl was insisting that I truly was Santa Claus.  I guess I should be flattered.  Being mistaken for someone I admire so much should be taken as a compliment.  I guess I'm glad the little girl still believes in Santa Claus.  After all, I still believe. And maybe, just maybe,  I"ve found another way to make a mediocre income!  Ho Ho Ho!

I'll need to see some ID....

     Since I am a 16 year old boy trapped in an old man's body, Wednesday was a day to make me feel old enough to have babysat Moses.  Today was my oldest daughter Ashleigh's 21st birthday.  In the immortal words of Faith Hill..."WHAT"!  21 YEARS!!! 

     This was possibly the most famous baby ever born in Wichita Kansas.  I was working for KKRD doing mornings in 1985.  We of course had been tracking the baby's progress for some time so the audience was well aware of her impending arrival.  We called her "Rusty" because we were sure she would have red hair like her mother. She does have red hair sometimes, but that changes daily.  Listeners and advertisers sent a multitude of gifts.  One listener named Doug Harper actually dropped off an envelope with a hundred dollar bill in it.  It took me a couple of years but I finally found Doug and thanked him personally.

     KWCH channel 12 covered her birth pretty thoroughly.  Kevin Nunn and I paced the hallway of the hospital together and it was fun.  Kevin would have me and Ashleigh on the noon show periodically to follow her growth.  We have it all on video so Ashleigh can show her kids how famous she is.

     So much has happened in her 21 years...the Challenger disaster, the Dow-Jones average has gone from 1000 to 12,000, 2 major wars in the gulf region, the cd has become the main source for recorded music.  I got my first computer when she was about three.  It was Boeing surplus and had a 40 mb hard drive!  My watch has a bigger hard drive than that.  Windows hadn't been invented yet, we had to learn dos commands.  The twin towers fell.  Possibly the most historic period in history.  I will point out that I never once won a Parent of the Year award.  Might have been because I took my kids tornado chasing on occasion.

     Anyway, it just doesn't seem possible that she was born 21 years ago almost to the hour I am writing this.  So, if you see my daughter out celebrating her birthday tonight in the Westport area of Kansas City, do me a favor and wish her a happy birthday....and hold her hair for her so she doesn't get barf in it.

I'll need some ID....

     Since I am a 16 year old boy trapped in an old man's body, Wednesday was a day to make me feel old enough to have babysat Moses.  Today was my oldest daughter Ashleigh's 21st birthday.  In the immortal words of Faith Hill..."WHAT"!  21 YEARS!!! 

     This was possibly the most famous baby ever born in Wichita Kansas.  I was working for KKRD doing mornings in 1985.  We of course had been tracking the baby's progress for some time so the audience was well aware of her impending arrival.  We called her "Rusty" because we were sure she would have red hair like her mother. She does have red hair sometimes, but that changes daily.  Listeners and advertisers sent a multitude of gifts.  One listener named Doug Harper actually dropped off an envelope with a hundred dollar bill in it.  It took me a couple of years but I finally found Doug and thanked him personally.

     KWCH channel 12 covered her birth pretty thoroughly.  Kevin Nunn and I paced the hallway of the hospital together and it was fun.  Kevin would have me and Ashleigh on the noon show periodically to follow her growth.  We have it all on video so Ashleigh can show her kids how famous she is.

     So much has happened in her 21 years...the Challenger disaster, the Dow-Jones average has gone from 1000 to 12,000, 2 major wars in the gulf region, the cd has become the main source for recorded music.  I got my first computer when she was about three.  It was Boeing surplus and had a 40 mb hard drive!  My watch has a bigger hard drive than that.  Windows hadn't been invented yet, we had to learn dos commands.  The twin towers fell.  Possibly the most historic period in history.  I will point out that I never once won a Parent of the Year award.  Might have been because I took my kids tornado chasing on occasion.

     Anyway, it just doesn't seem possible that she was born 21 years ago almost to the hour I am writing this.  So, if you see my daughter out celebrating her birthday tonight in the Westport area of Kansas City, do me a favor and wish her a happy birthday....and hold her hair for her so she doesn't get barf in it

Urinal Social Order

As I was standing at the urinal today talking with the BIG boss I realized that this is the only place I ever really have a meaningful conversation with him.  Actually, I feel lucky to get that little bit of quality mens room time.  I only met his predecesssor twice, and he insulted me both times.  Had we been at a urinal maybe things would have been different. He by the way is still unemployed while I continue to rake in a hair more than my paperboy.

Anyway, H as I call him, is the "Market Manager" for Kansas City.  He seems to be an extremely talented and knowledgeable man.  He reminds me a great deal of a man I admire as much as anyone I've ever known in my life, H. Roger Dodson.  Both now have been my boss at a radio station.  I don't however remember discussing anything over the urinal with Roger as we never worked at a station that had multiple urinal capability.  It seems odd that there may be a mold from which radio station managers are made.

There are many people I admire and have never been near a urinal with them.  There are also people with whom I've spent more time than I wanted talking at a urinal.  If you think about it, you have to really trust people you meet in a restromm even if they are just waiting to use the facility.  I believe a man is most vulnerable at a public urinal.  Afterall, you have your back to the crowd with your most valuable posession in your hand and it is at best a friendly weapon.

But then again, everyone at a line of urinals is on an even playing field with each other.  The beggar is the same as the millionaire there.  All class distinctions are erased for that brief moment.  No one is better than anyone else.  There is no urinal social order.  It doesn't mean that many of us are painfully aware of where we stand outside the urinal stall.

This is the way we do business in radio.  We talk over urinals, are intimidated by everyone who makes more money than us and has a higher position in the company and we do everything we can to keep our paychecks rolling in.  This is where the extortion, bribes and payola come in.  You  know, the real money in radio.

That is all...Peters out!

Another day....

Tomorrow morning is my court date for the "Westwood turn signal" event.  I am pleading not guilty just so I get to get up and talk in front of a crowd of others caught in the web of Westwood police cruelty.  In other news...

We are in day 2 of the new owners of the radio station and no one has been damaged.  Maybe they're waiting until we're closer to the holidays.  That always makes it more fun for corporate America.  I don't know why my wife's former boss at Yankee Candle didn't terminate Stacy closer to the holidays.  That would fit her style so much better.  Instead, she waited until we had just purchased our new house. 

I got a call from my former stomping grounds in Wichita asking me about going back to work there.  Wichita was great to me.  I wonder if I could still make a difference there?  At this point, anything is a possibility.  I know my boss probably didn't put in a favorable review of my employment here as he is more worried about keeping his job.  I fear he will throw anyone under the bus to save himself.  Who knows how safe my job here is?

Did you squirrels are in the rodent family?  They're just cute cuddly rats.  Kind of like corporate executives.  Part of the rat family.  That is all...Peters out!