Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

The S and the U in SUV

Wednesday, July 28th, 2010

Saturday morning I found myself on the road minutes after the area had taken the brunt of the weekend storms.  An SUV was directly in front of me, headed northbound as I was, and in the far right lane of four-lane Crawford Avenue.

The lane the SUV was driving in had several large puddles but nothing that looked too deep.  Along the unflooded stretches of the road were clumps of mud. I watched as the driver of the SUV charted a zigzag course right in front of me, trying to avoid the puddles and mud for the length of the entire block.  I wasn’t about to try and pass them as they swerved periodically into my lane.

Then it occurred to me.  Isn’t one reason why you get an SUV so you can glide right through–and over–obstacles without so much as a second thought?  Hey, I’ve seen the commercials and you have, too. They’re doing things like ascending sand dunes and fording streams, for crying out loud–things I wouldn’t even dream of doing in my sedan.  And, as for being afraid of a little mud, I was just at a car dealership the other day where they had an SUV which was actually caked in mud from top to bottom on display in their showroom.

I’m not one of those who hates SUVs.  Most of the time the person behind the wheel can be much more annoying.  This was obviously a case where the driver had lost sight of the “S” and “U” aspect of their vehicle, whereas I, in my plain old “V,” was the one who should have been swerving like mad around the hazards in the road.

At Least Armando Gallaraga Got an Apology

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

“What if…” is never a happy question, and seeing defeat snatched from the jaws of victory isn’t fun, especially here in Chicago where we’ve been witness to that scenario a few too many times over the years with our sports teams.

I can only wonder how long it will take Julianna Canabal-Rodriquez to get over the sting of being unfairly bounced from the finals of the recently concluded 2010 Scripps National Spelling Bee.  Unlike Armando Gallaraga, the Tigers pitcher who received an apology from umpire Jim Joyce, who denied him a perfect game with a badly blown call—Julianna, to my knowledge, hasn’t heard a word from Jacques Bailly, the official of the Scripps Spelling Bee whose careless pronunciation caused her to misspell her word in that fateful 6th round last Friday.

Julianna’s word was “gyokuro,” (correctly pronounced “gyOH-ku-roh”) which we were told was a type of high-grade Japanese tea.  Bailly, the “official pronouncer” for the annual spelling bee, mispronounced the word on his first read-through as “gyAH-ku-roh.”  He mispronounced it again on his second try.  Then, when asked by Juliana to repeat it, he mispronounced it several more times, never getting it right during the two-and-a-half minutes she stood at the microphone before eventually misspelling the word and stepping away.

Watching Julianna you could tell she was grappling with what came down to two choices in her mind:  going with “g-y-a” or “g-y-o” to start the word.  By her repeated requests for Bailly to repeat “gyokuro,” it was obvious to me that she was leaning toward the correct spelling but that the way he was pronouncing the first syllable was pushing her toward a spelling she had no confidence in.  In the end, she went against her gut entirely because of his pronunciation.  She was eliminated from the tournament as a result.

As she was walking off the stage in stunned disappointment, the commentators were remarking about how Bailly had seemingly led her down the wrong path, having Anglicized the word when he pronounced it “gyAH-ku-roh.”  They were right.  No one speaking correct Japanese would have said it that way.  Even I, for whom Japanese was a first language when I was growing up, would have ended up spelling it incorrectly after being given that erroneous hint.

For a contest predicated entirely on absolute precision, the E. W. Scripps Company ought to be as demanding of perfection on the part of its officials as it is the young men and women who courageously compete each year in its famous spelling bee.

The Final Days of Penmanship

Monday, April 26th, 2010

Zaner-Bloser.  Now there’s a name I hadn’t heard in almost 40 years.  It all came back to me, reading the front page article in Saturday’s Tribune about young Jancarlo Perez of Chicago, who became a two-time winner of a national handwriting contest—sponsored by Zaner-Bloser.

When I was learning penmanship in the second and third grade, it was the Zaner-Bloser method that my grammar school taught.  The handwriting textbooks which we used every day and the light green lined writing paper—they all came with the name “Zaner-Bloser” on them.

My teachers were sticklers for precision, and I recall my seven-year old left hand was ultra steady and obedient.  My tall letters went up to the top line and stopped right there; my small letters hugged the dotted center line of the page without ever going past.  When it came to cursive, my loops were nearly perfect and I could duplicate them at will.  At least in the beginning I was an A student in penmanship.

Then came junior high (as we called it back then) and a strange thing happened.  Style points gave way to speed, and I developed bad, bad habits, habits from which I’ve never recovered.  I became a juvenile penmanship delinquent, and as a grown-up I’ve never reformed.  In fact, at our house it’s become something of a joke.  My wife orders me to keep away from the checkbook, because she can never make out my letters or my numbers.

These days it’s rare for me to receive anything written in longhand, but occasionally I do.  It’s even rarer for me to receive something from a letter writer who obviously still has the skill and patience to form their letters carefully, precisely and legibly, while adding touches of their own unique style.  Penmanship, it is clear to me, is becoming a fading art.  And, with email and texting dominating our lives these days, I don’t hold out much hope that it’ll ever return to its former glory.

More Fun Than a Barrel of Basset Hounds

Sunday, April 11th, 2010

I love my Smooth Jazz, but I truly am a sucker for dogs.  That’s why I’d like to invite you to join me at an event that’s an incredible amount of fun for a worthwhile cause:  Bark in the Park, the Anti-Cruelty Society’s annual walk for the animals.  The money we raise will benefit ACS’s programs of caring for dogs and cats.

This year’s event will take place at 9:00 am on Saturday, May 1, at Montrose Harbor.  Last year’s Bark drew nearly 3,500 two-legged participants, most of whom did the 5K walk with their four-legged family members.

Joining me at Bark will be ABC-7’s Hosea Sanders and Roz Varon and longtime Chicago radio traffic voice Bart Shore.  For those of you who might be wondering about him, our beloved bulldog Mike will not be part of the festivities this year, however.   He’s no longer the rambunctious pup who had the boundless energy and exuberance (and pain-free hips) to do the walk with my wife and me a few years ago.  He’ll be there in spirit but otherwise contentedly napping in his dog bed at home that Saturday morning.

New to the event this year is a formal attempt to break the Guinness Book of World Records ® Largest Simultaneous Dog Stay record.  If we can get 628 dogs to sit and stay for two minutes, we’ll set a new mark.  Hey, it’s worth trying!

For more information, please go to www.BarkInThePark.org.  And, on May 1, look for me in the Hospitality area.  I’ll be there leading the event’s best volunteer crew and dispensing human treats to those who finish the walk.

Dressing for Smooth Jazz Success

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

The April issue of JazzTimes magazine features a lively discussion on how jazz artists ought to dress when they’re up on stage.  It got me thinking, and then it occurred to me:  over the past 23 years that Smooth Jazz has been around, a transformation has taken place in the way performers in our genre dress.

When it comes to earning style points, Smooth Jazz artists have taken a quantum leap in two decades.  I don’t know how many of you remember this, but in the early days nearly everyone had the same look:  garage-band-but-sadly-lacking-the-hipness-of-grunge.  Worn-out denims and a jazz festival t-shirt were a common ensemble.  At the time it didn’t seem particularly inappropriate because artists were being booked into places such as the Cubby Bear, Jazz Bulls and China Club in those days—venues that were bars or converted industrial space.

As Smooth Jazz began to blossom in the middle ‘90s and concerts moved into larger, more elegant venues, artists instinctively reacted to this move up in class by becoming more style conscious.  Led by African-American artists who seemed to be the first to recognize there should be a certain visual vibe to the whole Smooth Jazz concert experience, the fashion bar was raised significantly.

These days, it’s rare to witness a performer who hasn’t dressed for the occasion.  From the sartorially resplendent Nick Colionne to the dapper Dave Koz & Friends Christmas group (including Brenda Russell, who always looks as though she’s ready to walk the red carpet at the Oscars), Smooth Jazz artists get it—there is value to looking good.  But they’re only continuing a tradition.  If you go back far enough to remember that the likes of Miles Davis and Billie Holiday were as influential with their fashion as with their music, you’ll realize live performance in jazz music has never been about just the music.

Good Night, Mr. Phelps

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I imagine over the next few days you’ll be hearing a few snippets of the Mission: Impossible theme at various times.  Peter Graves, the actor who played the leader of the Impossible Missions Force, Jim Phelps, died yesterday at the age of 83.

Off the top of my head, I can’t think of another TV series that received a bigger boost from a change in its lead actor than Mission did in the late 1960s.  Steven Hill brought considerable chops along with distinguished acting credentials to the role of Dan Briggs, leader of the IMF when the show debuted in 1966.  But Mission truly blossomed when producer Bruce Geller added Peter Graves to the ensemble at the start of season two after a falling out with Hill.  Graves embodied all the qualities of a leading man in an action series.  He was strong and athletic—and quite camera-friendly.  To this day, whenever I watch my DVDs of the original series, my wife always comments on how good looking he was, especially in the apartment scenes where he was always seen in suits that perfectly complimented his silver hair.

Graves’ Jim Phelps also had a cerebral side and preferred plotting missions around psychological manipulation of the target as opposed to using brute force and violence on them.  He was the opposite of 24’s Jack Bauer.

Growing up, I watched every episode of Mission: Impossible.  I loved everything about the show:  the staccato theme—perhaps the best TV theme song ever–composed by Lalo Schifrin;  the intricate plotting;  the no-nonsense, unsentimental endings of most of the episodes.  It was a brilliant concept, masterfully executed.  And Peter Graves was the essential ingredient.

In the end, he wasn’t “caught or killed.”  The Secretary didn’t have to “disavow any knowledge” of his actions.  Peter Graves went off into the sunset the way he preferred—and with his wife of nearly 60 years, Joan, and his three daughters, Kelly, Claudia and Amanda nearby.  I’ll miss him.

At Least It Doesn’t Waste Paper

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

On my list of life’s daily annoyances, spam should rank very low.  Thanks to the delete key, it should be nothing more than an inconsequential blip in my day.  Yet, annoy is what it does, because in some strange way it gets into my head and forces me to expend more energy thinking about it than it I should.  I’ll explain.

One of the emailboxes I check each day is connected to an old AOL email address from my years at WNUA.  I haven’t found a personal message there for awhile now, but since it’s still an active address, I check it compulsively every day.  One hundred percent of the messages I find there is junk email—it’s all spam, in other words.  Yet, less than half of it gets automatically sent to the spam folder, and that bothers me.  It’s obvious that the spam filter at AOL needs to be improved.  A spam filter that’s less than 50% effective is worthless, if you ask me, since you still have to do the work of deleting everything it lets slip past.

Then there are the experts always telling you how to minimize the amount of spam you get.  Somehow, though, they never seem to warn you about what can really cause spam to pile up in your mailbox:  things that require you to create an online paper trail, such as being a college student in the internet age.  My wife used to get very little spam.  That is, until she started taking classes at UIC.  After she registered for her classes, bought the necessary textbooks and opened various accounts on Blackboard and the like, she started getting a ton of spam—40-50 unsolicited messages on most days.

There is one thing I find amusing about spam, and it’s something that really hasn’t changed since the beginning:  the poor spelling and generally atrocious grammar.  I suspect companies that spam aren’t recruiting from the top of any graduating class.

The Man’s a Real Character

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

(Ask me sometime to go into more detail about character actors.  I’ve always been fascinated by them on several levels.)

Character actors have always fascinated me.  The best ones seem to turn up again and again in movies and TV shows.  But they all share a common trait:  they’re able to completely transform themselves into the different roles and characters they’re asked to play, infusing each with a unique personality and, quite often, a completely different look.

In our time, Stephen Tobolowsky has been my definition of character actor.  From his hilarious portrayal of Tor Eckman, Kramer’s half-bubble-off-plumb holistic healer in Seinfeld to the eccentric Dr. Alvin Azinabinacroft in Boston Legal to the creepy, Josh Groban-obsessed Sandy Ryerson on Glee, he’s made the rounds of a typical character actor and created several unforgettable personas out of supporting characters, not always a simple task

I’ve come to learn that there’s another dimension to Mr. Tobolowsky’s uncommon performing talent.  He is also an incredible storyteller.  The other day, doing some pleasure-surfing of the web, I came across this site:  www.TobolowskyFiles.com.  On it you’ll find the actor musing across a wide range of subjects: the politics he encountered while a student in drama at the University of Illinois, for example; working with director Paul Verhoeven; and the vicissitudes of life’s ups and downs.

His stories are captivating and often hilarious and profound.  They’re not short, either.  Some go on for 40-45 minutes.  But don’t let me scare you off.  Steven Tobolowsky, the storyteller, is worth every minute you can spend with him.  In fact, as soon as my shift is over today, I’m going to click on and listen some more.

As the President was Going In, I Was Going Out (Part II)

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

Yesterday I began sharing a few glimpses into my life during the past twelve months after leaving WNUA.  Today we continue with a few more.

I enjoyed the experience of . . .

Taking the Brown Line into work at AccuRadio each day.  Getting reacquainted with the heart of the northwest side neighborhoods through which the L rumbled each day was some happy sightseeing for me.  And now I know exactly where the famous Dinkel’s Bakery is.

Watching Jeopardy. My wife, our dog and I quickly got into a 3:30 TV routine.

Getting a behind-the-scenes tour of the new Busch Stadium, courtesy of my friend, John Rooney of the St. Cardinals. It’s a fantastic park with state-of-the-art amenities benefiting both fans and players.  This is how good we could have it here, and it reinforced the notion that the Cubs are being stifled by tradition, sentimentality and an aging, long outmoded structure as far as Wrigley Field is concerned.  In the long run, they’re much better off tearing down Wrigley Field and building a brand new ballpark on the same site.  It’ll be better for the team; it’ll be better for the fans.  And, if they do it right, no one will miss the old Wrigley.  By the way, this is coming from a lifelong fan of the Cubs.

Going to Disney for the first time ever. I’d never been to any Disney park in my life; I found it a trip into unreality (in a good way), much like a trip to Las Vegas.

Getting out and riding a bicycle on a sunny summer day.

Meeting for lunch on a regular basis lots of radio friends, most of whom (sadly) were also looking for work. Host the midday show, and you never get to do lunch.  That was the case for me for more than twenty years. I made up for lost time in a hurry, taking advantage of the $6.99 Angus burger lunch special on Tuesdays at Emerald Loop more often than I care to admit.

I learned . . .

With Facebook, you’re never alone.  The last time I was in between jobs, in 1989, it was just me and Rolly, the cat, all day long.  Facebook and email have totally changed our world.

Never has part-time work felt so good.  I was one of the lucky ones, getting even a few scattered hours here and there in radio, because the market had completely dried up.  And, when the opportunity at 87.7 presented itself in December, it was truly a blessing.

Both Internet radio and over-the-air radio can grow market share more quickly if they’d become partners, not competitors. Internet radio needs the experience and leadership of veterans of over-the-air radio.  Conversely, over-the-air radio needs to pry into the minds of the out-of-the-box thinkers who are creatively driving internet radio.

My wife is truly the Chairwoman and CEO of the household. Between housekeeping, home maintenance, trips to the vet and appliance repairs, a HECK of a lot happens each day that I don’t know of while I’m away at work.  I still don’t know how she gets it all done, especially with her own work and school responsibilities.

I’m not sure if I’d like to go through another year like 2009 again, but it sure did seem to have its moments.

As the President was Going in, I was Going Out (Part I)

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

Has it been a year already?  Last January 20, a few hours before the new President was to take his oath of office on the steps of the Capitol, my boss told me I had done my final show on WNUA.  At that moment, 2009 became a year of upheaval and uncertainty.  In that year I ended up learning a few things and experiencing a few simple and not-so-simple pleasures that I thought I’d put into writing today and tomorrow.

First, I learned the experts were right when it comes to . . .

The internet and social media as all-powerful job search tools.  Two positions that were offered to me (including this one at 87.7) were facilitated by email and/or instant messaging.  Another part-time position was the direct result of having a presence on Facebook.

Networking.  It took both what and whom I knew that led to each of the jobs I’ve had, part- and full-time, since last January.  Networking wasn’t just important, it was critical.

The resume as a secondary tool.  When I left WNUA, I decided to have a professional resume writer give mine a complete makeover.  It turns out a grand total of five people asked me for a copy during my entire job search.  (I don’t endorse being fired or downsized, but the experience did force me to thoroughly upgrade and update my resume, something that had been long overdue.)

Being a consultant.  I told a friend of mine, a longtime consultant, about the fact that I would be dabbling in radio consulting over the summer, and he responded with a question:  “Do you know who’s the best client?”  I said, “No, who?”  His answer:  “One who pays his bills on time.”  I learned that was very true.

(Tomorrow:  Part II – Pleasures of the Past Year)

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