Nice delivery!

I know it's been two weeks but I have been busy!  I have just finished my second week of full time contract delivery.  I use my own car and my own gas, rent their uniform and their Nextl phone and if I'm lucky, in another two weeks I may have a paycheck. 

Mostly I deliver tires and flowers.  Sometimes a box, sometimes just an envelope and maybe a pancreas on ice every now and then.  I can now honestlysay, I didn't realize how good I had it in radio until now.  I have literally worked my ass off this week.  My ass is totally gone.  It hurts to sit!

If you had ask me how my career would end back in 1985 I would have said that I would settle down and enjoy being at my last station, doing a morning show and enjoying my grand kids.  Never in a million years would I have guessed I would be delivering tires instead of one liners. 

I guess I'll wait to see what kind of money I'm making before I decide what to do.  In the meantime, I'll be driving around town, about 200 miles a day listening to the radio instead of being on it.  Now I think I'll go out to the kitchen and start pre=planning. 

That is all...Peters out!

June 5, 2008

Today is a somber day for me.  My best friend John, who my son is named after, would have been 53 years old today,  but a construction accident in 1975 took his life, and a part of mine too. 

The 33rd anniversery of his death is later this month.  Nothing has had more of an effect on my life than John's death. 

I was working as a bouncer in June of 1975 at the Aquarius Lounge at 72nd and Pacific in Omaha with another good friend, Vaughn.  Late in the evening Vaughn came to me and said my mother had called and wanted me to stop by after work.  Vaughn followed me to my parent's house at 1:30 am after work and that's when she told me that John was dead.  What happened after that is merely a fog in my mind.

John was the brother I never had.  We originally met playing on the same little league baseball team.  My family moved to a house on the street right behind the Sternad house.  I hung out there one day and we became friends quickly.  We had identical motorcycles, we went everywhere together.  Once on a trip to donate a wild mink to the zoo that we had captured in our neighborhood, I flipped off an impatient driver behind us and he came up to John's window and punched the crap out of him.  Or the time we went to get shakes at Goodrich and my sister backed into the sign pole as John was taking a drink and the entire malt covered his face.  We hauled trash with his dad, played football, cruised and hung out together.  We were friends for only about 8 years before he died, but by today's standards, it seemed like a lifetime.

After John died, I quit my college studies and decided to move to Minneapolis by myself to attend broadcasting school.  The rest of that story is history.

My sister has placed flowers on John's grave every year since he died.  I visited John Memorial Day weekend.  I have to tell you, it is still very hard.  I stop and see his parents every now and then and have recently started corresponding with his brother in Colorado.  I have so many great memories of John.  I knew I would never have another friend like John.  I have great friends, but I guess I've never desired to be that close to anyone again.  I still miss John terribly.

   John Theodore Sternad

June 5, 1955-June 27, 1975