I’m a pretty lucky guy. I’m fifty-six years old and my mother is still alive and well. I found out today we will be together for Christmas and that’s the greatest gift I could ever ask for. Mom lives in West Palm Beach and is in the process of moving back here to Cleveland. A lot of people do that when they have the gift of time. They finally figure out what truly matters in life…..and that’s family.
I was like most kids. Christmas is a day of gifts. Christmas is fun. Christmas is a bunch of free stuff that I will probably break in the next two weeks. As an adult I wasn’t much better. Christmas was stressful. Lists to fill. Gifts to buy. People to impress. I threw money at these problems. They were solved. I still felt empty and alone.
Let’s fast forward to today as the reality of life has begun to set in. Christmas is a celebration of life, opportunity and salvation. Of course my mother drives me crazy and raises my blood pressure. That’s what mothers do. They know how to hit your hot spots because THEY installed them. We both made it another year. There will be a Christmas one year when we won’t be able to say that. It is my greatest fear my friends. As I said at the beginning….I’m a pretty lucky guy. I don’t need a gift. I don’t need a fancy meal. I’m gonna have a Merry Christmas. I hope you do as well.
Many fear those on the outside but I am afraid of those here on the inside. Let me explain. I am a Libertarian. I am not a fan of government at all. I pay my taxes. I legally own and open carry my firearms. I am responsible for my own personal safety and protection. I wish to be left alone.
In 2016 I voted for Donald Trump and in 2020 I will vote for him again. I truly believe that the future of this great nation and the roots of the U.S. Constitution are at stake. Unemployment is at a record low. People have better paying jobs and it has become an employee’s market again. Everyone’s 401-K has exploded. The left will tell you that world leaders are laughing at us but I believe they now fear us and they SHOULD. I don’t want my leader to make friends. I want him/her to let the other nations know that the free ride and handouts are over. We’re running a country here. Your not an audience member at the Oprah show.
Don’t like Trump? I get it. What I don’t understand is how the Democrats can’t find a viable candidate in four years to rally behind. They insist on regaining “control” of the White House by looking to impeach Trump. Let’s be honest. This will never get past the Senate. I refer to this process as “pissing up a drape.” I’ll pause a moment for you to enjoy the visual. Now you know why I will pass on the opportunity to shake Nancy Pelosi’s hand.
So while your thinking of dropping three grand on a Peleton bike that will be under a mountain of clothes before St. Patrick’s Day just know there’s a war going on out there and stay away from sticky drapes!
I was telling my shrink the other day how the person I hate in life is the person I was ten years ago. If you believe that way of thinking then you can speculate that I am really dealing with learning how to stop hating myself. I also find it interesting to note that I have become the person I used to laugh at and make fun of.
I’m fifty-five years old. I’m figuring out what truly matters in life. I used to think it was $180 jeans and $80 t-shirts. Now I get excited when I can find Greek yogurt on sale for eighty-eight cents. Make fun of me but if I buy ten of them I’ll pocket a buck twenty and you can put that towards your White Claw your spending five bucks on at some shitty bar with a bunch of plastic people that think they’ll make money some day by being an Instagram model. I cut my own hair. I like sweat pants and t-shirts. I don’t really shave but I do run some clippers over my face every few days. I don’t like silence and have developed a sort of verbal tic where I grunt for seemingly no apparent reason. Trust me. People notice. Based on their reaction I will assume it is of great concern to them. I enjoy it because it creates distance. I’m not a big fan of people being in my personal space. If you made it this far in my post you either find it fascinating or perhaps you may be considering a restraining order. Both are logical.
So laugh all ya want. Just know that one day you’ll understand. I just hope you can figure out your journey and purpose faster then me.
I haven’t posted since May. A lot has happened since then. Some good and some bad. My heart went into Afib in flutter and I had an ablation in September. I have dropped fifty pounds and have developed a healthy diet. I still deal with heart and digestive issues. I usually see a different doctor every week. I feel like I am a full time patient but let’s be honest: I lived life in the fast lane and there is a high probability that all of this was self inflicted.
I’ve had a lot of time to think and reflect on who I am today and where I was in the past. I moved fast. I missed a lot. I see it now and hope that it’s not too late. I was caught up in things and situations that truly don’t matter. The expensive jeans. The VIP rooms. The over the top dinners. The list goes on. You may feel important or satisfied at that moment but it’s only temporary. In the end, there is no dinner, no rare bottle of wine or some flashy name brand that can provide you with what we should all truly be seeking: a purpose.
I’m fifty five years old, an only child, divorced and no kids. What is my purpose? I’m not sure but I’m now motivated to find it. Can you say the same?
Are you missing it like most of the nation? I watched several TV feeds this morning and everyone is talking about the Kentucky Derby and having Maximum Security disqualified because of running into another horse. Has anyone asked the obvious question? Is this not fucking animal abuse to begin with? I always say……run these wonderful animals up to the gate…..minus the jockeys…..ring the bell….have sex in the infield….have a mint julep….wear the hat….whatever…..ELIMINATE the jockeys and ya know what the horses will do when that gate is lifted? Look for an apple!!! Look for a telephone pole to piss on. Look for a carrot….because that’s what horses do dammit.
Meanwhile we have an entourage of ships heading towards Iran, a military crisis in Venezuela that just has disappeared, Gaza Strip is missile war zone, and North Korea is back at it’s silly shit. These are the stories we need to be concerned with but watch tonight how the mainstream media fawns over the Royal Baby. I’ll be back in my bunker…..
I am so tired of explaining this but it’s back in the news after Israel failed in landing an UNMANNED spacecraft on the moon this week. I get ridiculed all the time I bring this up but I will NEVER trust our government. We are told what we NEED to hear and are conditioned NOT to question what they tell us. When is the last time that government got involved and it was good? Part of my mantra is “trust is earned; not handed out.” What has our government done to insure your trust? Let me save you the effort…..NOTHING! It’s a cesspool of corruption and self entitlements. Look at everything the government has it’s hands on: IRS, Social Security, Medicare, etc. Fail…Fail….Fail.
Let’s look at facts: Space Shuttle 135 missions to ORBIT the earth. Shuttles Challenger and Columbia were destroyed during their mission and we lost fourteen astronauts. The Apollo missions resulted in (sic) six moon landings between 1969-1972. Now we wanna go back? The moon race in the 60’s was a race between America and Russia. We were in a cold war and needed a jolt of nationalism. Why not go to the moon? Have you ever been to a space museum and seen the capsule our astronauts returned to orbit in? I’d feel safer in an AMC Pacer crashing into a pole. Let’s look at this story in more detail. This shitty capsule traveled 238,900 miles from the moon and then just drops in the ocean within miles of the awaiting Navy ship? Is this a ten year old explaining who ate the last piece of cake to his mother? It doesn’t sink. It doesn’t burn up. Astronauts are not impaled upon a remote control stick from an Atari that acted as their compass into the aforementioned ocean? What the hell is going on here? This makes absolutely no sense but I, the one that is calling bullshit, am looked upon as a nutball. I just wanna understand why we need to go back if we have been there before. Perhaps we never were there? That makes a lot more sense than what our government has been telling us since 1969. If you need me…..I’ll be in my bunker. Thanks for reading.
I give nicknames to everyone. The greatest I have ever bestowed was “The Freckle.” That was reserved for a freckled female that was my General Manager for my final years in radio in West Palm Beach. I walked away back in 2011 and “The Freckle” was a big reason why I did so and have not come back since.
She was an interesting character. First time as a General Manager and always sticking her nose into things she had no knowledge of and if her friends from church would say anything about the station during Sunday services it would be on the agenda Monday morning. We were on a collision course. Me and “The Freckle.”
I don’t play games. I work hard and made the mistake of letting a job define me. Some have called me “difficult” but that is a mask for someone that doesn’t appreciate anyone that is lazy. I have no room in my life for lazy people. If that makes me difficult then I will proudly wear that crown. “The Freckle” did not like to be questioned. You had to kiss her ring or you weren’t part of the tribe. We were on a collision course. Me and “The Freckle.”
I don’t like bullshit. When it became clear to me that the Sheriff was corrupt and the TV/gossip columnist was an ass I took them on. I have a big mouth and I really don’t care what people think. That’s not how it was done in West Palm Beach. The more you shoot your mouth off the more you become a target and I found that out the hard way. The vermin came out of their holes and came after me. One day I was falsely accused of something and of course all charges were dropped. That didn’t matter to “The Freckle.” Even though I was innocent and was basically a target of retribution by the Sheriff, she never stood by me. I was off the air and banned from the station and all events. When the truth was told, all charges dropped, I could see “The Freckle” steaming. She had no choice to put me back on the air and why not? I had solid number one ratings in all key demos. The irony was that I was making “The Freckle” look good. We were on a collision course. Me and “The Freckle.”
Back in 2010 I told “The Freckle” the days of music are dead. We need to do podcasts after the show. It’s the biggest threat to commercial radio. We need to drop all music in the morning and work harder on compelling content. What did “The Freckle” do? Ignored me and demand I play more music. This arranged marriage was nearing the end. “The Freckle” started to eliminate those that questioned her and wouldn’t kiss the ring. The mental games had taken their toll on me. My health was suffering and I had lost my edge and my confidence. Long story short, I walked away from that toxic situation in early 2011.
Funny thing about history. It will make you look like a prophet or a fool. Today that morning show that replaced me is doing well. They have a podcast after every show and they don’t play music. I look at those days with “The Freckle” and I wondered why I waited so long to walk away. I have so much more to share with you about “The Freckle”, but those stories will have to wait for my book.
I am not an attractive man. I have a great mind and sense of humor but that’s where it all ends. I will never be on the cover of Men’s Health. Having said that I have been very lucky with dating many attractive and intelligent women…..I have also made some terrible decisions….but I put myself in those situations.
Let me share with you the magical evening I was hit on by another man. I was at my typical dive bar near my house filled with drug dealers and hookers. They used to have illegal slot machines in there that paid off in cash. I got to know the regulars. I became a regular….again not my best moment. I got to know this black guy that would work at Red Lobster and then ride his bike to the bar and have a few drinks. He was openly gay but if ya know me….ya know I only care about good and bad.
One night I sat down at the bar next to my gay black friend. Conversation seemed normal but then he said something that I was not prepared for. First of all ya gotta understand my physical make up. I am 6’3 290 pounds and I usually wear a Harley bandana, sunglasses and a vest without sleeves. It’s not, by any means, a pretty sight. My young, black, gay friend stares at the top of the bar and remarks “You have great hands.” I was stunned. I thought I was hearing things. My mind was able to tell my soul that he wanted to stick his fine ebony tool in something of my person. My brain just short wired. I looked at him, still caught of guard and only was able to mutter, “Thanks!”
Thanks????? What the hell was that? I’m a smart guy that always is on alert to anything and anyone and I just had a man hit on me for the first time in my life and all I could say was “Thanks?” You say that to someone who holds the door open at the 7-11 on a Saturday morning while customers are lined up to buy lotto tickets and vapes.
I then excused myself and went to the jukebox. I played Ga Ga’s “Born This Way” and we danced to last call drinking Pina Colodas and planning a weekend trip to a Ricky Martin concert. Eighty percent of this story is true. If you knew me in West Palm then it should be easy to figure out. Thanks for reading my friends.
I have followed the career of Al Sharpton since the late 80’s. He’s quite the character but if you pull back the skin like an onion you’ll see the truth–he’s a fraud and not a nice person. You would think that while you are in the process of building a brand that would influence many and in return put you in a position of power you would embrace any support from black moderate Democrats. The truth is he has referred to the aforementioned as “Cocktail sip Negroes” or “Yellow niggers.” Hmmmm. Not exactly the Joe Biden man hug I was hoping for.
Sharpton made a lot of noise with the media in the 80’s. He would randomly call New York radio and TV stations with his opinion on stories that involved a person of color. He soon became familiar with many journalists in the New York area and when they would need a comment for a news story that had a racial slant….they resorted to calling Sharpton. I give him credit for being able to manipulate the media into becoming the Sea Monkeys that they are.
Let’s fast forward to today. Every Democratic nominee for President in 2020 has resorted to kissing this man’s ring in order to get an endorsement. Based on his terrible and short lived TV show it is obvious he is insecure and would never hire anyone to challenge him. In regards to his TV show he took on a project he was unable to handle. If I was on staff I would have advised him: “Perhaps you should concentrate on putting a few sentences together before putting on the Lion’s head.”
Critics of my brilliant and accurate observation of Al Sharpton will and do play the race card. They will scream “He doesn’t like black people.” I will say this again. I don’t see color. I see good and evil and as long as you have brought up color I would suggest you find a true patriot of color to rally behind. Start with Ben Carson and if you have any more doubts about the integrity of Al Sharpton I would suggest a search on Tawana Brawley.