South Park misses deadline.

I have never been a huge fan of South Park. I find some of their stuff funny. I think they are masters at pushing the satire envelope. There movie was simply amazing. However, I've never made South Park regular viewing. I had no idea the time table that they put themselves under.

17 Seasons in, South Park Misses Its First Deadline

6 days to write and complete an animated show seems ridiculously insane. They may be the masters of potty humor and tend to take that satire envelope and just throw it right in the fire now and then. But it's damn impressive to have such a short turn around.

Also, knowing the marketing savvy of these guys, I wouldn't put it out of bounds to think this might have been calculated. How big will the ratings be next week?

And for fun. Blame Canada at the Academy Awards. 

WOTE Covers Doobie!

Walk off the Earth has easily become one of my favorite YouTube finds. Love their videos. Their covers and their original stuff as well. But they just covered my favorite Doobie Brothers songs. Love. it. Find it on Youtube. Here are some of my other favorites.

Royals. 

Somebody that I used to know

Original Red Hands

Even Material Girl

Such fun. Hope I can see them live one day.

Politics are a joke. But at times they work.

So everyone has heard of the government shutdown that just ended. It was a red herring, the people hurt were mostly simply inconvenienced and the government workers will receive all the pay they lost. It's a drama without real drama. Much like high school. The legislative branch has kicked the financial can down the road and all is well.

In doing so, a member of congress actually managed to use his position for it's intended purposed - to help his district, state, constituents. It's such a rare idea that the media is freaking out about it. Trying to paint his actions as corrupt or backhanded. However, his constituents, his state has repeatedly elected him in hopes that he can achieve a role of power to help his state. He now has. He actually follows through on being an agent of the people and rewarding them for years of re-elections, by getting more funding for a public works project in the state. And he's viewed as a crook.

McConnell-Reid Deal Includes $2 Billion Earmark for Kentucky Project

It's been called a kickback. No. It's doing his job. If he got $2 billion in his pocket it's a kickback. If he helps his state, his constituents, its part of the job. They elected him. They gave him seniority. They allowed him to achieve the power to help his state. In the modern era, actually doing your job is seen as criminal. We're so far off the rails, we can't even see the tracks.  

Silence is.....

I've never been good with silence. When I perform menial tasks around the house, at work, I always have the radio or television on. Often I will have Netflix or Hulu playing in one window while I play a game or work in another window. Silence for me is something to be filled.

As a kid, I remember sitting in the car on the way back from a birthday party. A party I had only wanted to be invited too because the birthday boy had the GI Joe aircraft carrier and I had to see it. Had to play with it. Needed to know that it was real. I didn't really like the birthday boy and wasn't that close to him but the birthday was fun. Pizza. Presents. Aircraft carrier. All good stuff. Really enjoyed myself more than I thought I would. We watched ET. It was good.

But on the car ride home, in a car with a parent I barely knew and this kid I only kind of did, there was silence. So I filled it. I told them my life story, from birth in Seward to my move to Minnesota. I told the story of how my parents met, I gave specific directions in a calm and confident tone to my home included when would be the best times to merge and the significant cultural landmarks on the way (We got our couch over there, that billboard never changes, the exit tells you that we are 135 miles from the Iowa border) I couldn't let there be silence. It freaked me out.

In radio, dead air is the ultimate sin. Anything over two seconds starts to feel like an eternity. If the listener hears nothing, they will change the channel - virtual death for a radio station. So again, I learned to fill the space. Always be ready with something, don't let the energy drop, if you're the color guy at a basketball game and the play by play guy is looking for something in his notes - you damn well better be ready with some observation, analysis or anything - just not dead air. I learned to fear dead air, the idea that if it happened the loudest sound would be the audience changing the station.

I don't meditate. I don't spend much time in prayer. I don't work on centering myself and my chi. However, I have recently begun to try and respect the silence. Not exactly enjoy it. But respect it. I fill my head with so much. I like to be over stimulated. Computer on, phone in hand, books set to the side, three different browsers open with tabs on each plus conquering the known world in Civilization. Sometimes I'll put on a VHS or radio and let it fill the back ground. Lots of input to sort through. Keeps my constantly misfiring brain working. It works for me.

Lately however, I have tried to build silence into my day. Each day from 1 to 2 in the store, I try and turn off the radio. Part of it is that after four hours of radio information, I have heard just about all that will be said for the day. But part of it is to stop all the white noise and just let my mind work. It's amazing how that hour often goes extremely fast when I can find positive or interesting things to think about. Conversely, time stands still when melancoly or negative thoughts invade my thinking. Went I get trapped in a negative place, time doesn't even exist.

When I am honest with myself, and I very rarely am, I know that my fear of time stopping is often what drives me to fill up my life with white noise. I am so afraid of those mental quicksand moments that I would rather deal with so much over stimulation than face them. It's why I hate to sleep. In the day, I can guide my psyche, my mind. I can distract it. I can overload it. I can keep it from wandering into the forests that I would rather take the long road around. When I sleep, the mind is free. The subconscious frolics in the places I don't want to go. The fears. The dreads. The losses. The loneliness. I am at my mind's whim when I sleep. I hate it that loss of control.

I tell myself that trying to incorporate silence into my daily routine will help me when I have to face the silence of sleep and the ghosts, shadows, memories, hopes and dreams it brings. It seems a bit pathetic to try and train myself to face it during the day so I can endure it during the night. But sometimes I have those good hours. Those hours that time flies by. The hours when letting my mind loose is positive. The good hours of silence.

The more good hours I find in the day - I hope the more good hours I'll find at night.

The best radio story I never told.

I love radio. Have since the 30-45 minute morning and afternoon commutes as a kid in Minnesota. I was lucky. I caught the tail end of the golden age of Twin Cities radio. In the morning it was Boone and Erickson on WCCO. News, traffic, weather on the 8s. Keeping us updated and ready for the day. In the afternoon it was Steve Cannon and the theater of the mind. It took me years to realize that it was one man doing voices, creating a full room of people. It was amazing. I had no idea until I was in college.

My work life has had many twists, turns and down right potholes. One happy circumstance brought me to radio, which led me to Boston, which I then rediscovered in Kentucky and still am a tiny part of to this day. People always ask about my crazy radio stories. Probably because they think of Howard Stern or WKRP (ironically, one of my former owners claimed to be the inspiration for the show with one of the producers). I have crazy fun stories. This is something different.

When I was in Kentucky, I was on a morning show and we would do these live remotes. It was a smaller metro area so there wasn't really a huge audience for our live remotes. That summer I noticed that we had this one kid who kept showing up at every remote. All around town. Miles apart and he always rode his bike. It looked like he had all his belongings on the bike.

We got to talking and he told me he was a season worker who's work ended and he decided to stay in town. He was living with some homeless guys under a bridge down by the river and he had a wind up radio that he would listen to our show with. He loved it. I also noticed that he would never take the free pizza or sandwiches/pop etc that we provided as promotional stuff at the live events. He didn't want to seem like he was just taking advantage of the freebies.

After the third time he showed up, at an lab that was 15 miles from the river area that he lived in. I offered him and his bike a ride back after we were done. His name was Derek. He was 19. From Louisiana. Scared to go back home. But he didn't have anywhere to go. He knew that he'd have to do something soon because the police had started to bug the camp he and the others had set up.

I forced him to take the left over pizza from the live broadcast and a case of soda as well. We sat by the river and talked about family for almost an hour. It was a rough time in my life. I had issues with my family. With my parents. With my estranged wife. With my role as a father. Talking with Derek helped. We helped each other. I told him fears and things I hadn't told anyone else. He told me his. It was something. Maybe not friendship. But it was honest.

For the next six weeks he biked to every live broadcast. Once the owner of the jewelry store demanded he leave because he didn't look like the type of clientele for a jewelry store. He really didn't want the charity.When he would let me, I'd give him any left overs we had - food, soda etc. A couple of times he completely refused.  I offered him money for a bus ticket home but he wouldn't take it. I thought I might have offended him because I didn't see him for a while.

In late august at the last big event of the summer, where we were giving away a truck, he stopped by. To apologize. He'd sold his bike and wind up radio to some other guys and had saved enough money from odd jobs that he had his bus ticket and going home. He felt bad that he hadn't been listening anymore. He was a great kid. I gave him my # but I never heard from him. I hope he made it home.

Not the normal DJ story I suppose. I have those. Crazy college kids. Kangaroos. Radio station rivalry bar fights. But my best one is Derek.