Don't Quit

It is tough, trust me..I'm there right now.

DON'T QUIT

When things go wrong as they sometimes will, And the road you're trudging seems all up hill; When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile but you have to sigh; When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest if you must, but don't you quit. For life is strange with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns; But many a coward turns about When he might have won had he stuck it out. But he learns too late when the night comes down How close he was to the golden crown. Victory is defeat turned inside out, The silver tint of the clouds in doubt, You will never know how near you are – It may seem close when it seems afar. So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit; It is when things seem worst that you must not quit.

"All you need is ignorance and confidence, and success is sure."
Mark Twain, "Letter to Mrs. Foote"

Transistioning To Transistion

I knew it to begin with and I can only hear you say, "I told you so", so many times before I have thoughts of jamming a sharp object in my ear in hopes of drowning you out. I seriously wouldn't do that, but the thought of it does give me this weird cumbersome feeling. Is that odd? Well, yes, and that's life in the radio.

I admit that after high school back in 1994 my decision to study broadcasting (radio, specifically. A weird fascination of mine.) instead of attending a culinary academy (aka: cooking school), I probably wasn't thinking about the consequences. Of course, not being able to develop that keen sense of soothsaying also played a major factor in where I am now. Where is that? Well, at the Whetstone Branch of the Columbus Metropolitan Library searching for a full time job and submitting applications for less-than-desired employment in order to pay bills, buy food and gas for my car and what little bit of a Christmas I can offer to loved ones. Something is better than nothing.

http://www.columbuslibrary.org/

I have no one to blame, but myself. My professors told me, my college advisor (David R. Collins: tough, but sincere) warned me and the folks who allowed me to volunteer, intern and work-study at Morehead State University's WMKY Public Radio gave me the heads up. Nevertheless, I figured working at a job that you love, have fun with and are good at would outweigh the fact that a lucrative career in radio would probably never happen. Come on, I'm not getting into this for the money. Any veteran radio or television person will tell you that, most likely, will not happen.

Fourteen years later, I'm not necessarily regretting past decisions. I just wish I would have seen the light a little sooner, however dim it may be. And it really doesn't have anything to do with money.

Radio just hasn't been that good to me. I'm sure I deserved what I have received. You reap what you sow. At this point radio has taken me to four states, from public to commercial broadcasting and from small market to medium-ish market. I still enjoy radio, but not as much I should. I even thought that going back to school to get a graduate degree (achieved 2001) would change my attitude and/or horizons. Nope, my views haven't changed. And it isn't because of the downsizing and dwindling status of radio over the last several years nationwide. It's me. To add to that, I was recently let go from my most recent radio job.

What If I could use what radio has taught me elsewhere?

Well, I love to write, produce and edit and think that my communications background is extensive enough that I could get my foot in the door pretty much anywhere. Then again, the rough economic times have forced businesses and corporations to hire only those who have the exact qualities (i.e. experience) they need. Taking a chance on someone who has talked a good game, but doesn't have much of a case to present is on the outside looking in.

The more I examine my attempt at at career change I realize I want to be in communications. I'm good at it, I know I am. I'm not cocky, I'm just confident in my abilities. I was never one to expect to become wealthy in broadcasting. Radio allowed me to keep my head above water, that's okay, I'm a good swimmer. Unfortunately, I have been treading water too long and have grown tired.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I taken all that time I spent bugging my mom (Greatest cook I know!) in the kitchen, picking up her techniques through osmosis, and put it to work for me professionally. Would have I succeeded? Would have I been happy? Or would I still be where I am today, but wondering "What if?" about radio? What is done is done.

Cooking school could still be a possibility, but the price tag is a bit beyond my realm. And there aren't many restaurants who want to hire a 33 year old wannabe chef with no experience. Impressing friends and family in my small apartment kitchen is my current status chef status. Though I have been exploring a communications job in the food industry and have done a few restaurant reviews on my own for the place I used to work (http://www.akronnewsnow.com/). They did get plenty of views from Akron/Canton area residents, but whether they were taken seriously, I don't know.

http://www.akronnewsnow.com/entertainment/itemdetail.asp?ID=21999&section=entertainment&subsection=localentertainment

http://www.akronnewsnow.com/entertainment/itemdetail.asp?ID=22764&section=entertainment&subsection=localentertainment

In the meantime, as I search for full time work and work that will at least pay the bills, I have suddenly noticed that small flicker of opportunity. It is extremely hard to see. My hopes rest now on networking (I'm on http://www.linkedin.com/), setting up possible freelance opportunities (http://www.guru.com/), moving to Columbus and ignoring the sickening feeling that I took the wrong path somewhere way back when.

http://www.linkedin.com/profile?viewProfile=&key=25248256&trk=tab_pro

http://profile.guru.com/1077145

I'm not looking for sympathy and I'm not looking for charity, but damn, it does make me think.

For those of you who are also job searching, good luck and keep the faith. And if you need to bounce ideas off of someone who understands, don't be afraid to send me a note. We're in this together.

Unemployment is an island, but its a crowded one.

Ghosts Of Christmas Past In The Present

Stan Hywet Hall, an old Christmas by any other name just wouldn't be the same. Stan Hywet Hall and Gardens has officially been decked out for the holidays and if you are one who enjoys the sights, scenes, colors and sounds of the season this is the one place to experience it. And I'm not just talking about Christmas, I'm talking about OLD Christmas. The 65 room Tudor Revival Mansion is the former home of F.A. Seiberling, the founder of Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, and his family.

Original Story: http://www.akronnewsnow.com/news/itemdetail.asp?ID=26758&section=news&subsection=localnews

I, for one, am nostalgic and nothing is more special than reliving the holiday seasons of the past. Was it more simple then? Maybe, but getting to enjoy what a holiday season would have been like 100 years ago in a mansion from the American Country Estate boom is a history buff's dream come true. Sure, the Seiberlings were wealthy and they lived better than the vast majority of people during that time. But trying to understand what life would have been like in the early portion of 1900's is something we don't get to do very often. Lucky for us we have, in Akron, a home where time stands still. The antiques, the photos, the feel and the smells allow us to revisit this era.

As we speak Stan Hywet Hall has been transformed into a Christmas (and history) lover's fantasy.The historic structure allows your imagination to run rampant. The ghosts of holiday seasons past guide you through The Great Hall where it seems as though the trimmed Christmas tree is just as tall as the ceiling, three stories high. Lighted messages over doorways, such as "Good Will Toward Men", are surrounded by bright red bows. Greenery is strung through out the home as if it were one long strand that has some how slithered its way into each and every perfect location. A statue of a horse pulling a yule log on a small, old time sleigh into the room from outside stands before you. Sounds weird, right? But that's how it took place. A black & white photo of that very same scene, in that very spot, is right nearby.

The entire home, upstairs and down, is dressed in a festive fashion. Not too much, but yet, not too little. On Friday evening we had additional help in imagining Christmas' of long ago. On video (transferred from old reel-to-reel film) is the 1923 Christmas Day Wedding of Irene Seiberling to Milton Harrison. It shows the home decorated for the holidays (in black & white and silent, of course) as well as the wedding's procession through the home to the vehicle that would take them away on their brand new journey together as snow lightly falls. (FYI, they left from this point to a honeymoon in Jamaica) Also, on video was the 1932 Christmas reel labeled "So Many Grandchildren".

The Seiberlings had seven children and it seems as if there are a thousand grandchildren. The kids take part in Christmas activities and horse around like, well, children...go figure. The videos give you another perspective of the family photos seen on the walls, the people all look the same and come to life before your very eyes. As if the videos weren't enough the family had a tradition of performing before one another and recording it. We were treated to a recording of Santa Claus arriving and entertaining the Children. This includes the scratchy sound of the original record recording in the background. Listening to the recording and strolling through the decked out home you can almost see the Seiberling family & friends enjoying a holiday season.

The large dining hall table is set with the best holiday china. You can only dream of the Christmas feasts that must have been devoured by the many guests who once visited the home. Some of them famous (several presidents, Thomas Edison, Helen Keller, etc.), so of them not so famous.It is not just the fact the Seiberling family lived there that makes one wish they could have experienced life at Stan Hywet Hall. They just happened to live there. Rather, it is the history and life from 80 to 100 years ago that we will no longer be able to experience and can only read about. In Stan Hywet Hall that is preserved for all those who have an imagination, a love of history and that part of them that just doesn't want the past to be IN the past.

If you get the chance to visit the hall at night, you should do it. It just adds to the mystic of a what a Christmas Eve might have been like. Yeah, I'm a softy to when it comes to history and old Chistmas. I grew up with it. My family has a long history in southern Ohio (near Chillicothe) from the pre-civil war era (former U.S President and General Ulysses Simpson Grant is a distant relative) and on. Thus, my childhood was spent in homes that were literally walking history books.Stan Hywet Hall is no different.Adding to the holiday fun the hall is presenting the exhibit, Art Of The Nativity, featuring over 40 creches (French for "manger") from around the world.

The nativity scenes on display come from may different countries and cultures. The art work is provided by the Marian Library at the University of Dayton which houses a collection of more than 1,300 nativity scenes, or creches. The scenes are set up through each room of the house and adds that perfect touch to a holiday tour.Okay, I'm in the mood now. So don't hate me if you don't want to hear it, but....Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays. From our house to yours, we wish you the very best.

Now, where's the eggnog and fruitcake?!

On the web: http://www.stanhywet.org/

Stick That In Your Campaign And Smoke It!

They are all gone! No more: "We can't trust Joe Shmoo", "She's corrupt and eats babies", "He took money from taxpayers to fund his bikini waxing fetish!" Ahhh, I can't tell you how good it feels to know I can flip on the television in the morning and see an actual commercial. Acne cream, coffee filters, chocolate covered dandelions in cream sauce, I don't care, let me see them in succession for the next week!

Those absolutely ignorant campaign ads (television or radio) have come to an end. I can imagine how annoying they can get to the average voter. That also goes for the mountains of campaign mailers that are shoved in our mailboxes like stocking stuffers (Does Santa hate me?!). As a member of the media we have to endure the same ads as you do, but with a sinister twist. We have to interview these people who apparently think we enjoy hearing about their opponent's dirty little secrets.

Election preview stories make my skin crawl. It wouldn't be so bad if I contacted Sherry I'm-Really-An-Illegal-Alien and she just told me about herself and what she wants to do if elected. Instead, more often than not, we are also forced to hear what they really think about their opponent. Listen Sherry....that's all great. I'd love to hear about Tim I-Have-Four-Wives' attempt to grow marijuana in his basement with a hair dryer and flood lights, but the fact is I DON'T CARE! It is about the issues! Who wants to do what and how? What are the priorities for whatever office or district you will be representing? Does your agenda fit in with mine? These my friends are the nuts and bolts that SHOULD encompass a campaign.

Yes, I know, I have never run for office and I don't know what it is "really" like. But we are not completely stupid, SO STOP ACTING AS IF WE ARE!! Unfortunately this is what campaigning has become: a smear fest to see who can find the best dirt, put together the most original parody of their opponent and avoid the real issues at all costs. It is a wonder why so many countries hate us and for all the wrong reasons

Yes, November 4th is now history and we can go back to watching real commercials on products we wouldn't dream of purchasing...how wonderful! And just in time for Christmas! (I can't wait for those killer "Give-uh, give-uh, give-uh Garman" satellite navigation device commercials, they get me everytime!)

Although those campaign commercials are only gone for a few months as the primary election will roll around in late Spring. We can at least rest easier knowing the dreary, dark winter months can be experienced without the suicide inducing crap fed to us from all media avenues.

Akronites going to hell? http://www.akronnewsnow.com/news/itemdetail.asp?ID=26612&section=news&subsection=politicsnews
(The good part is on the audio link at the bottom. It's the one titled: Hear Plusquellic address supporters after Issue 8's defeat. His 'hell' comment is at the end, but the build-up to it is interesting)

As for myself, I get to spend the next few months playing back the soundbite of Akron Mayor Don Plusquellic telling the opposition to this Issue 8 Akron Scholarship Plan that they will have "...a special place in hell..." for leading the campaign that ultimately led to the issue's large defeat on Tuesday.

The mayor made his comments at the Issue 8 election night watch party at The Lockview, a pub in downtown Akron. It's a place I'd highly recommend for a beer and a bite to eat.

It's across the street from Lock 3 Park: http://www.thelockview.com/

If you find yourself there, say hello to Matt the manager for me. A very good guy who went out of his way to accommodate my setting up some live remote equipment for Tuesday's broadcast.

Take care Akron...the next election is closer than you think.

Wrong Number Gone Awry

Shortly after moving to Canton in 2004, when the summer months finally rolled around, I took the time outside of work to try and meet some people. Not knowing anyone and being a little unfamiliar with the territory I looked at all avenues. This didn't have much success for the basic fact that I worked 3pm to about midnight and everyone I could meet and hang out with were either at home or sleeping (like most normal people).

I was by no means desperate, but I was hoping for a change in my social life soon and it did. Just not in the way I had envisioned.

One afternoon as I was preparing to head off to work, my phone rings and an unfamiliar number appears. As I answered the female voiced on the other end says, "Charlie?! Where are you? And how do I get to the gym?" At a loss as to who Charlie may be, I told her she must have had a wrong number. She apologized and we hung up. No more than a minute later my phone rings again and its from the same number. On a cell phone in her car the girl says, "I'm sorry I know I just called you, but would it be possible for you to give me some directions?"

This seems a little weird, but I'm game. I have only lived in Stark County for a few months, but I have a Stark County map on my apartment wall in order to help myself out with the new surroundings. Eager to help I consulted my map and gave her the directions she was looking for. Once she received her requested information and located her destination, we continued to chatting. Lauren tells me she's 21, a personal trainer and has just moved here from Hawaii. As our friendly conversation continues I find out she's the step daughter of Stark County Sheriff Tim Swanson, someone I talk to on a regular basis through work.

Soon enough I have to leave for work, she takes my phone number and we agree to keep in touch. It was a friendly conversation that began in the most odd way and I figured I had at least found someone to hang out with.

I get to work and tell my co-workers, Sam and Marlene, about the phone call. I tell Marlene due to the fact the phone was so random. I tell Sam because I wanted to gloat. A 21 year old female personal trainer calls you out of nowhere and you hit it off, that my friends is what heterosexual dreams are made of!!

Marlene, using her damn common sense, begins questioning everything Lauren told me. It all seemed to check out....that is until Marlene remembered that Sheriff Swanson was married to his high school sweetheart. Better yet, he had no children. As much as I hoped she was wrong, I shrugged it off and thought maybe I misheard what Lauren had said. Marlene said she would ask Sheriff Swanson about it the next time she talked to him. Sam, on the other hand, was freaking out in a jealous reaction. I rubbed it in as best I could.

Over the next week or so Lauren and I spoke several times. Just shooting the bull and eventually agreed we should meet sometime. Seems logical. As I'm thinking about what we should do, she continues to call...and call....and text..and call some more. The next few days were nuts, this girl is calling and sending me text messages at all hours of the day. Even when I mention that I'm busy or at work, she continues to give me a ring.

At work Marlene jokes that Lauren is some sort of mental patient who has found her next victim. Sam, too, suggests the girl is mental but as any good man would, he says I should at least meet the girl to see if the "package is worth more than headache". In other words, if she turns out be smokin' hot how long am I willing to subject myself to the wacko in order to show off my trophy girlfriend.

Now I'm no longer thinking about meeting the girl. I'm wondering if this girl has a life outside of annoying me and how much of a burden it would be to change my phone number.

Back at work, Marlene finally gets a hold of Sheriff Swanson. She made sure to call him with me sitting at the desk next to her. Apparently she could tell the future. Swanson confirms the has been married one time and has no children, let alone step children. Also, he says a girl fitting Lauren's background (real or fake) was reportedly trying to buy a car in the Akron area a few weeks before and gave Sheriff Swanson's name as a potential a co-signer for a loan. He had no other information and, thus, couldn't follow up on it.

Lucky for him, I was his new found informant.

I gave the sheriff the name she had given me and her phone number. And pondered a way I could get her to stop calling me. Sam continued to say I should meet the girl, Marlene is telling me to ask the sheriff about the witness protection program.

As the next few days went by I answered only a handful of the what seemed like a thousand phone calls and text messages. I used the excuse of being busy at work, she bought it. Finally, when I was ACTUALLY at work, my phone rang. I checked to see who it was and, SURPRISE, it was Lauren the leech.

Marlene, who up to this point has found the situation funny, can see the consternation on my face. It was funny...for awhile, but it now has become a serious burden. Marlene takes it upon herself to end the annoying calls. I avoid answering the phone and toss it aside, but Marlene grabs it and answers the call. She calmly says 'hello' then asks, "Who is this?" When Lauren asks the same question Marlene answers, "This Craig's WIFE! I see you have called several times and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling. Thank you very much!" She then hangs up. I'm stunned with a huge smile on my face. As goes with Sam and our company custodian Mary, who bursts into laughter.

Looking like she couldn't be more proud of herself, Marlene says the girl was quiet and didn't say much. And seemed to have hung up before she did. Marlene says she just thought of it and wanted to see if it would get Lauren to stop calling. And it did! For three days I heard not a word from her.

On the four day after being told I was married, Lauren did call. It was after I had come home from work and went to bed. The phone rang, seeing that it was her, I answered to see what she had to say. I was curious. After my quick 'hello' she says, "I cannot believe you are married?!" Not wanting to drag it on, I said 'yup' and hung up. Though I was relieved, I was still curious to know if she was a whack job or I if had just made a huge mistake. Sam's words continued to haunt me.

I didn't hear from her again.

Shortly thereafter Sheriff Swanson called to let me know that by using the phone number I gave him he tracked Lauren down. He confirmed here name was Lauren, but that was about the only truth that I knew about her. She wasn't 21, but 19. She wasn't from Hawaii, but from right there in Canton. She wasn't his step daughter, just some deranged girl with a vivid imagination who lived with her parents (who are still married by the way). She could have been a personal trainer, but you wouldn't find many of them who serve Whoppers part-time. Though Sheriff Swanson tells me that she was cute...for a teenager.

He also said he gave her, and her parents, a stern warning about what may come from any additional phone fantasies or attempts to use his name in any unlawful way.

"Dude! You missed your chance!," Sam says through a hearty laugh. I think he was just relieved that Lauren didn't turn out to be who she said she was. That would have really ticked him off.

Marlene holds back the laughter, but the phrase "I told you so" was written all over her face. I'm a little disappointed, but happy to know I wasn't taken for more than just my trust.

I never heard anything more from Lauren. Though, still to this day, I'm very good friends with Sheriff Swanson. I may live and work in Akron now, but still call him through work. In those calls I refer to him as dad and he refers to me as his son. Nice to know he has a sense of humor about it.

But a few things still remain unsolved. In that original wrong number call, who was Charlie? Why didn't she know the directions to a location that was just three miles from her in her own hometown? Who was she trying to call to begin with?

We will never know.

Autumn In Southern Ohio

Pics from Chimney Rock down there in Ross County...pretty place, especially in the fall (These are from last fall '07).

A Columbus, OH Street Has An Alternative Lifestyle?

This just makes me laugh. I'm easily amused.

Schlitz Lovers Rejoice!!

Click on the title above to link to the original story!!!

A COMEBACK IS BREWING
Beermaker is betting on nostalgia in restoring a Milwaukee icon
By Emily Fredrix ASSOCIATED PRESS

MILWAUKEE — It’s The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous. Now Schlitz is making the city nostalgic. That beer with the old-time mystique is back on shelves in bottles of its original formula in the city where it was first brewed more than a century and a half ago. Schlitz was the top-selling beer for much of the first half of the 20th century. But recipe changes and a series of snafus made the beer — in many a drinker’s opinion — undrinkable, turning what was once the world’s most popular brew into little more than a joke. But after decades of dormancy, the beer is back. Schlitz’s owner, Pabst Brewing Co., is recreating the old formula, using notes and interviews with old brew masters to concoct the Pilsner again. The maker of another nostalgic favorite, Pabst Blue Ribbon, it hopes baby boomers will reach for the drink of their youth. They also want to create a following among young- er drinkers who want to know what grandma and grandpa drank. “We believe that Schlitz is, if not the, one of the most iconic brands of the 20th century,” said Kevin Kotecki, president of Pabst Brewing Co., which bought the brand that dates to 1849 from Stroh’s in 1999. “And there’s still a lot of people who have very positive, residual memories about their experience. For many of them, it was the first beer they drank, and we wanted to give it back to those consumers.” In Milwaukee, the comeback is creating a buzz. Stores are depleted of their stock within days, they’re taking names for waiting lists and limiting customers to only a few six- or 12-packs each. People like Leonard Jurgensen say the beer reminds them of better days. The 67-year-old, who grew up on the edge of the brewery downtown, said decades ago it seemed that everyone in the city either worked for the brewery or knew someone who did. If there was a special occasion, you drank Schlitz. Jurgensen had it on his wedding day 45 years ago. “For many years, the product was associated with happy times, especially to people my age,” said Jurgensen, who’s writing a book on Milwaukee’s breweries. Hearing from Schlitz-thirsty consumers prompted Pabst to revive the brand, Kotecki said. It was the world’s bestselling beer from 1903 until Prohibition in 1920, and regained the crown in 1934 until the mid-1950s. That’s when a strike by Milwaukee brewery workers interrupted production and made way for others, like St. Louis’ Anheuser-Busch, to eat into Schlitz’s market share. Before it vanished, the beer changed — for the worse. According to Jurgensen, new owners eager to expand wanted to shorten the fermenting process. There also were quality-control issues for barley, so the beer went flat quickly. To fix the flat problem, the brewers added a seaweed extract to give the beer some foam and fizz. But after sitting on the shelf for three or four months, the extract turned into a solid, meaning drinkers got chunky mouthfuls. And then, the biggest of errors. “They decided not to pull their product off the shelf,” Jurgensen said. “They decided to weather the storm and sell that product. That’s the worst possible mistake they could have made.” And by 1981 the Schlitz brewery closed. The owners sold the brand to the Stroh Brewery Co. in Detroit in 1982, which eventually sold some of its lines to Pabst. Kotecki wouldn’t disclose sales figures for Schlitz but said they are considerably smaller than for the company’s top-seller, Pabst Blue Ribbon. In Milwaukee, it’s at about 75 locations, including bars and liquor stores, though that’ll grow when more is made. John Thielmann, 55, of Milwaukee, says his first sip of the new Schlitz sent him back decades. He remembered being a teenager — drinking underage, he noted — spending summers with family on Druid Lake, about an hour from Milwaukee. But when the formula changed, he started getting headaches after two or three sips, so he stopped drinking Schlitz. Thielmann, who works at a liquor store in suburban Elm Grove, said he was confident the new formula wouldn’t fail him. He figured Pabst had put in enough effort that they’d get the old formula back. They did.
“That first sip was like ‘I remember this. This is right,’” he said.
Some stores in Milwaukee limit the amount of Schlitz beer customers can buy because of the demand.

Schlitz timeline • 1849: German immigrant August Krug opens a small restaurant and tavern in Milwaukee, begins to brew beer and turns it into a brewery. • 1850: Joseph A. Schlitz, 20, emigrates from Germany and works for Krug as a bookkeeper. • 1856: Krug dies, leaving no offspring, and Schlitz takes over management of the brewery. • 1858: Schlitz marries Krug’s widow, Ann Marie. • 1861: The brewery is renamed the Joseph Schlitz Brewery. Schlitz runs it with Krug’s four nephews, the Uihlein brothers. • 1871: The Great Chicago Fire destroys many of that city’s breweries, giving Schlitz an opening to expand his business. • 1875: Schlitz travels to Germany and is presumed dead when his ship sinks in a storm. Because he had no children with Krug’s widow, the Uihlein brothers take over the brewery. • 1893: The company introduces the slogan The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous. • 1902: Schlitz surpasses Pabst as the world’s best-selling beer after selling 1 million barrels that year. • 1920: Prohibition begins. The brewery makes soda, malt syrup and candy. It survives because the Uihlein brothers have extensive real-estate holdings. • 1934: Prohibition ends, Schlitz resumes production and retakes the No. 1 sales spot. • 1953: Strike by Milwaukee brewery workers hurts brewers like Pabst, Blatz and Schlitz, which lose market share to rivals such as Anheuser-Busch of St. Louis. • 1954: Schlitz briefly rebounds to again be the world’s best-selling beer. • 1955: Anheuser-Busch takes over the top spot, which it still holds. • 1975: Immediate family management of Schlitz ends and distant relatives and outsiders take over the operation. • Mid- to late-1970s: Schlitz still sells well, so the new owners try to make more by shortening the fermenting process. But the beer has no foam and is flat, so managers add a seaweed extract. But that turns solid after sitting in bottles for a few months. Schlitz sales fall and the old formula is gone. • 1981: Production of Schlitz ends in Milwaukee when workers strike. • 1982: Detroit’s Stroh Brewery Co. acquires Schlitz and sells off many of Schlitz’s plants to pay for the acquisition. It focuses on promoting Schlitz’s secondary brand, Old Milwaukee. • 1999: Pabst Brewing Co. buys Schlitz from Stroh. • 2008: Schlitz’s classic formula is reintroduced. Sources: Leonard Jurgensen, Milwaukee brewery historian, and Pabst Brewing Co.

It IS A Small World After All!!

Last weekend was the Pro Football Hall of Fame Enshrinement down in Canton. Since I was a Canton resident up until last December, I had the duties of covering the entire Hall of Fame Festival for Rubber City Radio Group.

I've covered this each of the last four years in one way or another (for different organizations) and it has never been a disappointment. Though the festival remains the same, some out of the ordinary tends to take place each year. On Saturday I sat at the media table on the 50 yard line of Fawcett Stadium as the enshrinement was televised live on ESPN. I, with my laptop, recorded speeches and wrote stories for our website akronnewsnow.com. It was cool hanging out with my media brethren from D.C area. There were a pair of former Redskins being inducted, hence the vast majority of the media onslaught came from Maryland and Virginia.

Aside from meeting other media personnelit was neat to see former NFL stars just roaming around. I'm not one to slobber over the former players or current national media individuals, but I did get to meet ESPN's Chris Mortenson. A quick handshake and "hi" made my day.

The following day, Sunday, my co-worker Lindsay and I covered the Hall of Game between the Colts and Redskins. We watched the first quarter before heading off to get interviews and fan reaction. The starters tend to play one quarter in preseason before the scrubs come in and the game gets boring. Lindsay went to get interviews on a tongue-in-check story on Colts fans versus Redskins fans. I want to get interviews on reactions from fans on the entire festival itself...did they like it? Would they come back? What was their favorite part? Did Canton treat them well? That sort of thing.

I stumbled upon a group of four Redskins fans standing away from the crowd smoking. I figured they would be the best interviewees since they weren't concentrating on watching the game. After asking my questions and getting the audio I needed, we chat for a short time. They were pretty cool and fun to talk to. And I discovered one them was a graduate of Ohio University in Athens. OU is about an hour east of my hometown of Chillicothe along U.S Route 50. When I brought that up he tells me, "No way! I've been there!"

Are you kidding me?! I'm at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton covering the first NFL game (preseason) of the year between teams from Indiana and Washington. And the group of people I decide to talk to, on a whim, are all from Washington, D.C. and I happen to pick one who has been to my hometown & went to college for four years in the backyard of the place where I grew up. Crazy.

Its things like that make moving around fun. Not that I like moving, I've done it way too many times. Although, if there is a time where you move due to new employment or for a signifcant other this is what makes the experience worthwhile. I've lived in Kentucky, Indiana, Texas and Ohio and each time I have come across someone who is at least halfway familiar with where I used to live or someone I know.

I'm sure this will not be the last experience with such things, I mean...come on, I'm only 33. We'll see how the next 33 years evolve.

I just hope the next person I run into doesn't turn out to be a stalker. Note to self: If he or she knows your social security number or exact birth date...it is no longer fun and interesting.

Not That There's Anything Wrong With That...

How you conduct your life is your business. I firmly believe that. Your likes, dislikes, preferences and lifestyle is something I do not judge. Though I have to admit I was taken back a bit by an acquaintance a few years ago.

In the winter of 2004, not long after moving from Newark to Canton, I found a local watering hole to spend some time after leaving work every now and then. My shift was 3pm to 11:30pm, and not having cable, led me to finding a place to make some friends and have a beer or two. This ended up being Harmon's Pub at West Tuscarawas and Arlington in Canton.

Harmon's is a very cool place. Not big, but not really that small, great food and inexpensive beer ($2 Miller Lite, ALWAYS). This is a great place to sit and watch Sportscenter or an Ohio State game whenever possible. It is friendly and the patrons are equally as appealing. It was maybe the third or fourth time I had stopped by and I a was amazed that one of the bartenders who had seen me in line to buy a beer had a Miller Lite opened and waiting for me. I was able to skip the line, slap down my two bucks, take a seat and relax. Cool! It was like I was a regular on an episode of Cheers. They knew me without really knowing me. It made me feel good and, of course, I'm sure that's how successful businesses are run.

One night after work when summer rolled around I was nursing a beer and watching baseball when a group near me started a conversation. Shortly there after I joined them. When the night was coming to a close I exchanged phone numbers. I had found some friends, guys and girls who I could run around with in my new hometown.

One of them, Rocko ( I'm not sure if this was a nickname or not), was usually the one to drop me a line when they were going out. Throughout that summer I tagged along and we had some good times. I never thought anything more of it.

Maybe I should have.

One night we are all hanging out at Harmon's (a good Irish bar) and as the night was winding down our crew dwindled. Soon it was just Rocko and I, shooting the bull with the bartenders and wasting time. When I finally decided to call it a night Rocko asks me to hold one for a minute or two. As those near us seem to be out of earshot he tells me, with a sheepish look, that he's bisexual. "Uhh..well..okay. I have no problem with that," I say. I'm thinking its cool he's confided in me, but I'm not sure WHY he's telling me. He goes on to say the rest of our crew doesn't know and he'd like to keep it that way. I reply, "I can do that."

Before I say farewell for the night Rocko drops another bomb. He's told me this piece of information about him because...get this...he finds me attractive?! He's curious to know if I would be interested in making more of this "friendship". I'm not freaked out, though I'm definitely stunned. He could see from my blank stare that I did NOT see this coming.

He apologizes. I gather enough thoughts to utter a sentence or two and tell him he doesn't need to apologize. He was curious and needed to know, so naturally he had to ask (I think). I kindly tell him I'm flattered (sort of), but I'm heterosexual and don't waver from that. He wonders if he's just ruined a friendship and I tell him I don't hate him, I just don't "go" that way. He's satisfied that I'm okay with his lifestyle, though I'm still trying to make sense of what happened. At this time I had not had a real date in sometime and had been turned down for such activity by a few woman couple of weeks prior. I'm even thinking, "Do I look gay?" or "Am I giving off homosexual signals?"

Stupid I know, but all of us tend to over think somtimes.

We part ways and nothing comes of it as our group continues to hang out.

About a month later lightning struck a second time. Nearly the same scenario, Rocko again asks if I'd like to make more of our friendship. I'm thinking, "Dude, there's no magic potion that's going to make me change my mind!" I tell him, again, I don't roll that way. If that's his choice, cool, its his choice. But it is not mine, I'm sorry. This kind of ticked me off. Not because he "liked me", but because he had me thinking I was doing something (unbeknown to me) that was attracting men.

That was the last time we hung out. He and the rest of the group never called me again & vice versa. I was frustrated...I was having a hard time getting a date and meeting women, but I apparently had no problem attracting men! I kept looking for the a sign that was hidden somewhere telling people I was gay. It must have been a helluva hiding place. I couldn't find it.

A female friend of mine, after hearing this story, relayed to me that it is widely considered that if homosexual men find you attractive that is a very good indication that women, too, find you attractive. I don't know if she was feeding me load of crap, but if this were true I wanted to know who these women were and why I couldn't find them. Or, at least, why they were avoiding me.

I continued to swing by Harmon's every once in awhile, though I never did see Rocko and the others again. Now that I think about it, there may have been a reason why I was invited to hangout with them to begin with. And it had nothing to do with the fact they found me to be good company. It was just a ruse to get introduced to someone who was "interested". Whatever.

I did end up getting a date few weeks later and Heather, I think was her name, and we dated for a couple of months. It was nice. When that ended it wasn't long before I met another woman. And my initial thoughts were affirmed, I AM heterosexual and I do enjoy the company of women. Guys are cool...but only for sports, beer, road trips and running from police (on occasion).

This is a funny story now, but four years ago I was definitely frustrated. Not with Rocko or his sexual preference, but with my lack of a social life. There are phases we go through and we have to deal with them. How we handle those phases is up to us. Just don't do anything drastic that you will regret down the road. I didn't and I'm better for it.

Rocko, I hope you and your friends are doing well with whatever you chose to do and thanks for making my move to Canton eventful.

I'll never look at drinking a beer & watching Sportscenter at an Irish pub in the birthplace of professional football with a gay man the same ever again.

BBQ Is Life

If you aren't a Canton native it looks like an old building waiting for someone to give it new life, but if you are a Hall of Fame city resident, it is a hidden treasure.

I'm talking about Kennedy's BBQ at 1420 7th Street NW. You will find it just to the east of the William McKinley Monument, right across the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad tracks. Upon your initial glance the thought to keep moving on and find a better establishment may arise, but trust me when I say this...BIG MISTAKE.

Kennedy's, a family run Canton staple since 1922, kept me in the dark for the better part of three years. I passed it a thousand times and it never looked open. Then suddenly, a little over a year ago, I was wasting time in Monument and Stadium Park when I noticed several cars in the lot next to it. Its not flashy, doesn't grab your attention and (in all honesty) is not easy on the eyes.

Curious to see what the deal was I parked my dented Honda Accord and decided it was time to shed some light on this mystery. Ladies and gentleman I walked into heaven! You step in to a couple of booths on the right, two or three tables in the middle and an old-fashioned lunch counter on the left. That's it, nothing more. It could give someone with claustrophobia a run for their money. Rubbing elbows with others is literally what you do.

Kennedy's serves smoked ham, pork, beef & turkey that is prepared in their own smokehouse -- which is attached to the small restaurant! The sandwiches go for about $3.75, but they are stuffed to the gills with whatever meat you choose. One would be more than enough for a normal person, which means I tend to force down two before my stomach starts begging for mercy.

You can have these plain or with BBQ sauce, or this spicey-tangy-sinus clearing relish. You are asked if you would like relish on it at the time you order. If you are so inclined, they will slather it on your mountain of smoked goodness. It is hard to tell exactly what the relish consists of but if you are a no-holds barred foodie...you'll love it. If you are not an all out foodie, you should just ask for it on the side. You can also buy this in bulk and makes a great weapon in the arsenal of those who enjoy entertaining at home on a regular basis. (Shhh..your secret is safe with me!)

Aside from the sandwiches, Kennedy's offers their Delicacies in bulk. The meat comes chipped or sliced and ranges from $6.50 a pound to $7.00. I can't tell you how cool it is to find a small, neighborhood eatery that smokes and prepares their own BBQ just feet away from where you actually order it. Family owned and run business are the best I tell you.

Along with the sandwiches, the BBQ is also used as the main ingredient in a couple of soups that can melt any nasty NE Ohio fall and/or winters day away. The bean soup has a smokey flavor provided by the big slivers of the ham that swim along side flavorful beans in a savory broth. Very simple ingrediants, but with superior taste. Adding a sandwich to this at lunch will make you forget the doldrums of working for living.

The chili is just as tastefully prepared as the bean soup. Thick, chunky and just spicey enough to wake you from that mid-afternoon slumber. Feel like taking it home to for the family? You got it! The soups come in the 1/2 pint, pint and quart varieties at $2.50, $5.00 and $10.00.

If you just want to cool off with a malt or shake an old-time malt mixer will make sure you are not disappointed. Also, the Amish made pies sit within eyesight and mock you as you attempt to finish lunch. Don't stare or you will be hooked!

Looking for that holiday party surprise? Kennedy's has you covered. You have to order in advance since they smoke it for you (on the premises...awesome!!). The traditional holiday hams are cooked in their "pit". You have the option of selecting a semi-boneless ham (14-20 lbs), boneless tavern whole ham (14-20 lbs), 1/2 boneless tavern ham (7-10 lbs), whole spiral sliced ham (14-20 lbs) and 1/2 spiral ham (7-10 lbs).

I ordered a 14 lb semi boneless for a party last Christmas and I was more than impressed. Even more impressed were the guests my girlfriend and I were hosting. The best part? Plenty of left overs for whatever your heart desires. Christine made a ridiculously good spicey bean soup with our remnants. The ham was even better the second time around.

You may notice I keep referring to "lunch" at Kennedy's. Well, that's about all you are going to get when you arrive and you have to be there at just the right time. Why? Because they are open Monday through Friday...for just 3 1/2 hours at a time! From 10:30am to 2:00pm.

In the 17 1/2 hours a week they are open they, apparently, make enough profit to stay in business (and have done so for the past 86 years) and they have a laundry list of regulars. A friendly staff who seems to recognize you, no matter how many times you have been there, helps with it's mystique. I could kick myself for not getting to know Kennedy's when I first moved to Canton from central Ohio in 2004. At least I made my way there before moving to Akron last December, but that's just one more reason to travel to Canton every so often.

The establishment's walls are littered with newspaper articles from over the years featuring the eatery. The articles, my friend, don't do it justice. It is a piece of americana hidden deep in the heart of Canton.

Meat and BBQ lovers...no need to thank me. Thank the wonderful world of simplicity.

I'd Like A Life-bek With My Order Please

I stopped by the neighborhood Robeks, the fruit smoothie and healthy eats joint, on Friday on my way to work to get something tasty and cool since it was 7,000 degrees with ultimate humidity in Ohio at the time. I ordered my usual Raspberry Romance (raspberries, raspberry juice, strawberries, bananas, non-fat yogurt and ice) and, as usual, I was asked what kind of free nutritional boost I'd like with it. Funny, I honestly think these nutritional boosts are load crap but I tend to entertain them and choice one. I selected the Intelli-bek and I didn't feel much smarter or felt that I was able to concentrate more after sucking the fruity goodness down in about 15 minutes. At least it was fun to order, right?!

Robek's: http://www.robeks.com/

Though, it got me thinking. Robeks has other boosts like Immuni-bek & Cardio-bek, but what if they could offer something the actually worked and dealt with more immediate or specific problems?

For example, what if on a certain day in the future I ordered my Raspberry Romance and asked or the GetOutOfDebt-bek? I could be getting my daily nutritional balance of fruit and vitamins, and at the same time, be easing the burden of owing on college loans or my car payment or next month's cable bill!! Tell me that wouldn't be a money maker and saving money would be a cinch...all just buy doing what we do best...eat!!

How about the Relationship-bek? You could settle arguments with your significant other just by spending $4.50 on a tall glass of Pomegranate Passion! No more having to conjure up a way to apologize or make-up! You would be able to keep your dignity and manhood without bruising your pride. And she, or he, would instantly receive a feeling of gratification and closure and would be able to move on to better things. She, or he, would owe you! Awesome!

Oh...imagine IgnorantCo-worker-bek! Those dolts who make your work life miserable would be no match for your superior smoothie downing abilities with a loaded Strawberry Swirl! Those who never listen, ignore the obvious and ask you asinine questions would melt away and become ideal members of your office. Imagine how much stress would be relieved and hair it could save?! Ahh...dreamland!

I think I'm on to something here, but it may be a few years before such things come to fruition. Though the sooner we get working on it, the sooner we can all live much happier lives. I'm getting excited just thinking about.

Anyway, the Intellig-bek that was included in my Raspberry goodness didn't seem to change anything about my progress at work on Friday. Hmm...but I did get quite a bit accomplished? Maybe there is something to it?

Wow, imagine what would have happened if I had added the ChangeMyJob-bek! I'd be in Cincinnati right now helping the Reds hammer the Mets...or at the nearest kinkos asking if you want those copies in high resolution.

Oh well, it was a nice thought. ;)

Why I Hate Politics

Okay, I understand those are strong words. I have to cover politics on a weekly basis and do it to the best of my abilities, but that does not mean I have to like it. Anyway, what gets on my nerves is the childish bickering and you-scratch-my-back-I'll-scratch-yours attitude taken by too many of our legislators

How about just doing what's right for your constituents and forget the fact your fellow politicians may not like it. Bipartisan politics is fictitious...no matter what most legislators will tell you. Most of them always have another agenda in mind when conducting business.

Don't get me wrong, politics is a necessary evil. Its just that most politicians are only working for themselves. Its annoying.

The worst is the campaign season....don't tell me how bad your opponent is....tell me about you. I don't want to know what the challenger did to get detention in high school, about their not-so pretty driving record or the fact he (or she) was arrested for public nudity during spring break in Cancun in 1989. We ALL have some ugly marks in our past, get over it!

Also, can you please campaign like adults. What exactly do I mean? Be patient and read the following...

Originally posted on www.akronnewsnow.com

Area Congressional Candidates Mixing It Up
7/10/2008 7:45:02 PM | Craig Simpson

The race for Ohio's 16th Congressional District is heating up and the candidates are none too happy with one another.

On Thursday Senator Kirk Schuring (R - Canton) accused Senator John Boccieri (D - Youngstown) of having his campaigners storm into Schuring campaign headquarters. Schuring Campaign Manager P.J. Wenzel says, "Their purpose was to challenge us to a debate on energy issues and to do it in a very intimidating fashion." He says they came in without warning and started taking photos.

Apparently each side claims their opponent's ideas on energy and Ohio's gas tax are hurting residents.

Senator Boccieri says Schuring is just attempting to make some noise, "They want to know about storming? I'll let them fly a mission with me into Baghdad. Quite frankly, what we did was deliver a letter requesting that we have a debate on energy policies." He says his staffers walked in cordially, handed over a letter and took one photo.

"These tactics are kinds that usually come from folks who run campaigns in Youngstown," says Wenzel of the Boccieri campaign's actions.

"Sending out a press release about a campaign staffer handing a letter asking for a debate is somewhat laughable. He is just intending to focus on these issues rather than the issues important to the people of these districts," claims Boccieri.

Boccieri says he wants a debate to tell the real truth about his energy ideas and policies, but did not do it in a forceful fashion. Schuring's camp says a debate is already in the works and Boccieri's actions in his office Thursday were unwarranted.

Ohio's 16th Congressional District covers Stark, Medina, Wayne and Ashland County. Schuring and Boccieri are vying for the seat vacated by the retiring Ralph Regula.

On the web:

http://www.johnforcongress.com/

http://www.schuringforcongress.com/

*************************************************************************************
I rest my case, ;)

Veggies: The New Steak!

I will never be mistaken for a vegan but I have to say Chrissie Hynde has a way with food that doesn't come from a blood pumping organism.

You may remember last fall's grand opening of the Akron rocker's eatery in the Rubber City, The VegiTerranean. Having covered this event and interviewing Chrissie (lead singer for The Pretenders) was quite humorous as her chip-on-shoulder attitude and straightforward demeanor shined. I'm not complaining, that's just Chrissie.

Anyway, for something different my girlfriend and I stopped by The VegiTerranean last Saturday. Its located at 21 Furnace Street, inside the Northside Lofts just north of downtown. I really did not know what to expect and didn't have some preconceived notion about what the food would be like. Christine (how ironic is that?!) and I were generally curious.

The decor was modern and the atmosphere comfortable. You even get a view of the North Hill area, Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad Depot and the All-American Bridge in the distance as you dine. Look hard enough and you can almost see Cuyahoga Falls and Mayor Don Robart waving back at you. If you are calling for reservations, be sure to request the table near the back window for the best view.

A typical restaurant goer may feel a bit overwhelmed with what's offered on the menu, but if you know what you like it isn't hard to navigate. On this night I had the: Mediterranean Stuffed Tomatoes with Grilled Veggies: Roasted Garlic Orzo over a Fresh Pan Tomato Sauce & Braised Arugula. That's a mouthful, but believe me when I say WOW!

I didn't expect it to taste like feet or have the texture of packaging peanuts, but I was definitely impressed. The pan sauce was the best. Flavorful with a savory roasted taste. The orzo wasn't overpowering, it had just enough of a garlic hint. The arugula wasn't over done and still had the distinct leafy green texture & tang. Once the bulk of my entree had disappeared I continued to scrape the plate and spoon away at the pan sauce. Yes, it was that good.

As for Christine, she had the Italian Fritto Chicken: Herbed battered & fried Gardien Chicken served with a side of Chrissie fries. This was also more than up to par. And you'd have to think the fries were at least half way decent since they're named after her, right? She even claims on the menu that they will be, "The best you've ever had." Well being a connoisseur of fries Christine gave them the thumbs up. This was followed by her signature eyebrow raise which means they are worth ordering a second time. I, too, was more than happy with them. Are they best I've ever had? I honestly would have to say no, but they aren't far off. They come with a tofu ricotta and balsamic ketchup.

Our meal began with an appetizer of Fried Green Tomatoes. First of all, in my book, anything fried is worth ordering and they did not disappoint: crispy, hot, juicy and robust. I would have liked to have had more than the three or four that were offered, but again it was an appetizer. More than what he had would have been too many for the purpose they served. These may have been a special on this particular night, but if they are a regular menu item...have at it.
We had selections from the Great Lakes Brewing Company to quench our thirst, but if you are a wine person...prepare to meet your match. The wine list will make your head spin. You name the winery and the country, they have it.

It was an overall excellent experience for both the eyes and the pallet. It is an eatery worth a second and third trip.

You know I will never be a vegan. I enjoy steak, chicken & milk too much to cut them out of my life. But Chrissie Hynde definitely knows a thing or two about animal byproduct-free food that's worth your while. What I had showed no signs of tasting like it was a vegan meal.

And Chrissie has be doing something right. A second Vegiterranean is expected to open in Columbus' Short North neighborhood soon.

For those of you who are still unnerved and skeptical about it, so be it. No one is judging you. Though if you are dragged to The VegiTerranean and still have a hankering for meat, don't worry. Luigi's Pizza and Pasta is just across the street. It has been there for about 60 years and is the best pizza & pasta this side of Italy. The photos and autographs of celebrities who have stopped there dot the walls and stand as a testament to the level of goodness they serve.

Chryssie Hynde may rub some people the wrong way and say things that would make you want chuck her cd's into the nearest river, but I have to hand it to her. She has proved that Vegan is not culinary suicide...or at least...it doesn't have to be.
On the web: http://www.thevegiterranean.com/

Previous coverage: Hynde Is A Vegetarian And That's YOUR Problem

Go (Mid)West Young Man!

Remember those stereotypical movies and tv shows where one of the characters decides to put off college, or real life, for a year or two so they can travel and "see the world"? Let let me say if you do plan to travel try not to do it all in one day.

When I was a Texan (for all of nine months) I was looking to get back to the Buckeye State as I had started a relationship with a girl I had met at a wedding in Ohio. That relationship blossomed into something more than just a fling and had no sign of fizzling out. So I decided it was time to move closer to see where this relationship would go. It kinda helped that all of my immediate family was in Ohio. Yet, another incentive to move back. Texas was not a purposeful move to begin with and I had no real "anchor" keeping me in the Lone Star State although I thoroughly enjoyed what it had to offer.

Once it was decided I found a job in Ohio (Newark, just east of Columbus) and planned the big move. My brother, Chad, who had never been one to turn down adventure was more than willing to assist in dragging all of my crap back to our home state. It was settled that he would fly down to Dallas then the next day while I drove the monstrosity they call a Uhaul he would would drive my super sleek chick mobile: a 1997 Ford Taurus family sedan missing a driver's side sideview mirror.

Since I had all but owned stock in Uhaul due to my long list of moves over the years I had the route mapped out already. Interstate highways would take us the entire distance across five states: Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee, Kentucky and Ohio. We had never discussed stopping at a hotel, motel, backwoods cubby hole or tree house along the way so it was assumed we'd see how far we could get before deciding to rest.

Getting up early on a sunny September morning in 2002 we were ripe to see if we could outdo what common sense said was not only asinine, but also dangerous. We were going to drive the entire distance straight through stopping only for gas, food, bathroom breaks and maybe the occasional goof off.

Just beyond the eastside of Dallas the highway was relatively empty for that time of the morning. I had made it a point to have my camera by my side to document what we had hoped was not going to be our demise. My brother, in my light blue sedan (that was now more arrow dynamic without the mirror), traveled ahead of the Uhaul and I. We collaborated on navigation as we each had a map and communicated via cellphone.

As we approached the large road signs that detailed the distances to the next major city I took pictures of them. The photos are not too bad, especially for being taken by someone who is driving a loaded down Uhaul on an interstate highway at 70 mph. You can document the trip through the photos that give distances to Little Rock, Memphis, Nashville, Louisville, Cincinnati & Columbus.

Somewhere just outside of Memphis, on the Arkansas side, we stopped to for a quick bathroom break before a scheduled dinner stop in Memphis. It was a simple exit with no visible sign of life, except for a gas station. It was the type of joint you'd see on an episode of the Twilight Zone with tumbleweed blowing past & being occupied by suspect characters. Curious to know exactly where we were my brother approached the friendly, bespectacled attendant. She had most of her teeth which to us meant she had to be halfway trustworthy and having grew up in a small, out-of-the-way town ourselves it would be interesting to document where we had been.

Once asked the girl uttered what came across like the sound you'd make when attempting to catch your breath after overexerting yourself. That was followed clearly by "Arkansas". We stared at each other then looked back at her in obvious confusion. The girl laughed when we didn't quite catch the name. Apparently our reaction was not uncommon. She repeated the name a little slower, but his time it had a more throaty rumble like the sound of hocking up a big loogie. She even assisted us by spelling it out: H-E-G-H. We were told the town, or village, was called Hegh (try imagining a cat loosening a hairball)...but less feline-y. We then understood why it wasn't on the map. Arkansas was too embarrassed to acknowledge it.

Back on the road to Memphis we had planned to stop and eat at a place that would have the Ohio State versus Washington State football game on television. It was airing on ESPN. Once there we found a Jillian's, but parking was at a premium especially for a Uhaul. After about five minutes of searching we talked a security guard into letting us park the gigantic truck in a spot in the parking garage reserved for emergency vehicles. That's because the truck wouldn't fit anywhere else in the garage. Actually I don't think you could have fit it in the Superdome much less a garage. We ate and watched the Buckeyes beat Washington State in a battle of highly ranked teams.

Somewhere between Memphis and Nashville we stopped for gas. After getting back on the road Chad apparently missed a sign dropping the speed limit from 65 to 55. Just as I think, "Dude, you need to slow down", a Tennessee State Trooper flies by me and flags him down. Chad exits and pulls into the parking lot of a gas station. This was compounded by the fact that the tags on my Taurus were expired... and had been for two years!! Totally my fault, but why the hell was he driving so fast!

Waiting for the other shoe to drop we lucked out. The trooper was from Evansville, Indiana....I town I had lived in and the place where my expired tags were from. So, being friendly, we began chatting about the town and gave him the story about what we were doing & don't you know...he let us off the hook!! It helped that I gave an award winning performance of kneeling down to examine the tags and giving this horrified look of disbelief that they had expired...nearly 800 days ago! The trooper's advice...just make sure the Uhaul was behind the Taurus to hide the fact it had expired tags. To this day I don't have a discouraging word to say about The Volunteer State.

Deep in the heart of Kentucky we came to a dead stop on the highway behind a long line of cars. Something had taken place miles ahead. Once we started moving again we expected to see the remnants of some sort of accident or reason why the highway was shutdown, but there was nothing. It was very odd. We didn't even see emergency vehicles pass on the opposite side of the road. Only god knows why a miles long string of vehicles came to a dead stop that evening. Maybe some bootleggers were trying to cross the road in the middle of the night and met the front end of a semi.

Along the way, traveling behind my brother in the Taurus, I noticed my car weaving a little. Chad was weary and struggling to stay awake. I felt his pain, I was in the same boat. I made several attempts to wake myself up, but none of them worked. Finally, on a whim, I rolled down the windows took a deep breath and screamed the f-word at the top of my lungs. I did this three more times, each one with more force. You would have thought I was a drunken sailor who was just told it last call and had to drag my ass back to the ship. Within seconds my blood was pumping, my eyes were no longer heavy and I was a new man!

At our next stop for gas and food I was eager to tell my brother about my unique system for warding off the body's need for sleep. Surprisingly, Chad had done the same thing!! Great minds think alike I tell ya. Though some would beg to differ.

Just as we get to the Ohio River we come to a dead stop again. This time the reason was in plain sight. We were about the fifth car back as a tractor trailer rig had jackknifed. The driver was okay and he had missed the other cars, but the truck was blocking several lanes. Being in the early morning hours of what is now Sunday we sat outside our cars along with other motorist waiting to pass. There were a pair of loud and obnoxious fellas in the car next to us. They seemed as if they had been patronizing several bars for way too long and were on there way to dodging the cops.

We, and the other motorists, did our best to ignore them. A few moments passed and one of them gets in the driver's seat of their car. The other was attempting to talk to the girl in the car in front of them. She struggled to pretend he wasn't there and only briefly acknowledged his existence. His friend, who was now in their car, was fiddling with the radio and such. Like a little kid was was bored and didn't know any better. Suddenly I see him reach for the gear shift, and being on a downward incline to begin with, their car goes forward and runs into the back of the car belonging to the annoyed girl! He just missed hitting her and his friend!

She, now scared for her life at this point, inspects the damage. There was nothing to be too worried about as it was short distance, but these two yahoos still had to drive home in their drunken condition! When traffic starting moving my brother called 1-800-Grab-DUI, Ohio's drunk driver reporting hotline. The following should make you feel safe. The dispatcher told my brother, "Oh you know, there's a lot of traffic over there and I'm sure our patrolman won't be able to fight through the line of backed up cars to find in them before they are out of reach."

What!? We give you details on a pair drunkards traveling an interstate around a major metropolis and you blow us off? We told the dispatcher about their previous actions and she still gave us the "oh well" attitude. I'm sure our troopers and patrolmen are busy & do their jobs flawlessly, but come on! Don't treat us like we're bothering you! You would have thought we were on an episode of Reno 911!

In disbelief we head into Cincinnati and beyond without another sighting of the drunk brothers. Hopefully, the other motorists did as well.

On the outskirts of Columbus we breathe a sigh of relief and dance in our seats as we have finally reach our destination. Coming to a stop at my brother's apartment in Grandview we high five on the fact we just drove from Dallas, Texas to Columbus, Ohio in 26 1/2 hours with the only stops being for the needed food, gas and OSU football game.

Once inside we immediately hit the sack. I slept for 13 hours. My brother would have slept longer, but had to go to work that Monday. On that day I drove the Uhaul with all my crap another 40 minutes east to Newark, my new hometown.

Here it is six years later and we still reference that trip like it occurred yesterday. People think we're nuts and, well, yes...we were...and are. We probably wouldn't ever do something like that again, but those who tell us how dumb it was? You know they would have done the same thing if it had been them.

We were young, able, willing and looking to capitalize on not having the chance to do something so idiotic ever again. And you can't let those chances get away, you have to live in the now.

We're a little older now. I live in Akron, Ohio and my brother he lives in....get this...Austin, Texas! No lie! He and his better half, Stephanie, love it. I'm happy for them. But if they ever have the urge to make a triumphant return to the Buckeye State I'll suggest they sell their crap and buy a plane ticket.

Just make sure it's tags haven't expired and the pilots are sober, ;)

Reflections On The Passing Of Tim Russert

Now that I've had the weekend to let the death of Tim Russert set in, this is my tribute. An area dentist who went to college with Russert in Northeast Ohio passed his recollections. This was originally published on Akronnewsnow.com on Friday.

Local Friend Of Russert Reflects On His Passing
6/13/2008 7:19:09 PM Craig Simpson

Area Dentist John Hudec, a college classmate and friend of Tim Russert, is reflecting on the passing of the televison newsman. Hudec, who lives in Brecksville, says Russert was much more into politics than his television persona.

He says Russert was definitely a politico from the start, "You could see him getting involving in politics but does anyone ever think somebody is going to achieve greatness like that? Not back in college because greatness was a long ways a way, but he certainly achieved it."

He says Russert was also a good friend of one his roommates who is now one of the team physicians for the Cleveland Cavaliers. He shares this story of the recent playoffs, "He ran into Russert and Russert could not have been more delighted. Tim was interviewing everybody and showing them 'this is my friend from college. Look at him, he's the team doctor for the Cleveland Cavaliers!' The sense of camaraderie never left."

In another recollection Hudec says the two were together at the school's library the day former presidential candidate George Wallace was shot in 1972. Hudec recently sent Russert a note asking him if he remembered that day, "He wrote back, 'Dear John...don't let anybody ever know I was in the library. Everybody here is stunned. They saw your note and couldn't believe I ever spent any time in the library.' We occassionally exchanged notes like that, but this...this is a sad day."

According to Hudec Russert was also involved in attracting top name musical talent to play at little John Carroll University, including the likes of Chicago and The Beach Boys. "You would have thought he would be more in to that area after college, but when he left Cleveland Marshall Law School he got involved into politics with (New York) Governor (Mario) Cuomo and Senator (Daniel) Moynahan," he says.

John Carroll University: http://www.jcu.edu/

The two were classmates at John Carroll and continued to be good friends until his untimely death.Hudec says this has taken the wind out of the sails with this being Father's Day weekend, "...especially knowing how important his son was to him."

Meet the Press: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3403008/

Tim Russert, the host of NBC's influential political program "Meet the Press," died of an apparent heart attack Friday while recording segments for this Sunday's show.

He was 58.

Link to the original story: http://www.akronnewsnow.com/news/itemdetail.asp?ID=21211&section=news&subsection=localnews

It Ain't Easy Being Green

With all the hubbub surrounding St. Patrick's Day the luck of the Irish was most definitely NOT on my side in 2007.

I've never been one to go "all out" for St. Paddy's, but when the chance to celebrate has come my way I have at least done my part to have a good time. Last year my friends in the Youngstown area (Niles) recruited me to tag along on their tour of local establishments. I was excited to be able to do so. With it being on a weekend, for once, I didn't have work to interfere.

On this weekend the leprechauns were apparently aware of my lack of an immune system. If its floating in the air chances are it will be coming after me first. And yes, I had a severe head cold when the mid-March holiday rolled around. These illnesses are best cared for by getting lots of rest. On that Friday I left work early (I work the 3pm to midnight shift) in order to get enough sleep to be alert enough for that Saturday's activities. I was to be in Niles by 7 am and it was an hour or so drive from my Canton home.

Niles, Ohio: http://www.thecityofniles.com/

I did myself a favor and went to bed early. It didn't last. My girlfriend at the time, who had been out with friends that Friday, didn't get home till late and wanted to chat. She calls me at 1:30 am to say hi. I oblige and answer. We chat.....for the next two hours! Christine...I loved the girl...but damn did that spell doom for me.

I get up two hours later with my head feeling like the size of a blimp and unable to breathe out of either nostril. I think I drank a gallon of water to rid myself of the cotton mouth I woke up with as it was the only way I could get oxygen into my body overnight. A good hot shower opened up the airwaves, if only for a short time.

The drive to Niles wasn't so bad and my Irish Catholic-ish friends, the Ellwoods and Means family, welcomed me with open arms. Our first stop on the St.Paddy's Day tour: Quaker Steak & Lube for none other than green eggs and ham, literally. The eggs, made green with the appropriate food coloring, and ham slices in the shape of shamrocks with the use of a cookie cutter. The food was actually a good thing....I was starving and I'm sure the virus that had invaded by head needed some fuel.

Quaker Steak & Lube: http://www.quakersteakandlube.com/

To go along with breakfast I was in the process of ordering a typical breakfast beverage, but before I could utter orange juice or coffee my ego was challenged as Ken (the party scene leader) ordered a beer. And not just any beer....a 32 ounce mug of leprechaun lager. Once he orders the waitress turns to me and my brain is screaming, "Orange juice you damn fool! Say orange juice! coffee, tea, milk, motor oil...anything but beer!" But as I look at Ken my immune system wasn't the only thing to break down. My common sense was pummeled into submission by my sense of pride and the phrase, "I'll have what he's having", raddled off my tongue.

Somewhere St. Patrick smiled and waited for the inevitable.

Not only did I down the 32 ounces of evil at 7am, I tried to keep pace with Ken who is twice my size. My pride continued to have common sense in a choke hold and ordered a second 32 ounce brewski. I downed that that one too. I at least avoided ordering a third. That's what Ken did and he sucked it down before I finished my second. By 8:30 I had ingested green eggs, shamrock-shaped ham and 64 ounces of beer. All the while I could have been quarantined with the type of head cold that was partying inside that melon between my shoulders.

As we headed out for the second destination I reminded myself that I needed to slow down. I had all the best of intentions, but on this day those intentions were about as good as snow in August in the Buckeye State. I didn't come across any other 32 ounce mini-kegs though they might as well have been.

The rest of the five to six stops include outside gatherings, inside parties with Irish music, buffet tables, a never ending flow of beer and the occasional nip of liquor. Near the end my body flipped the self-destruct button. This, I recall, was just about the time Ohio State's Ron Lewis hit the game-tying three that sent the NCAA Tournament Second Round game with Xavier into overtime.

I was rundown, forcing water into my system and pretending to be coherent to my much smarter companions. The game was up. It was obvious I working my way toward dumbass-ville. And they did what any good friends would do...laughed at my expense. I deserved it.

Once the St. Paddy's Day tour came to an end I headed back with the Means' to their home. Watching basketball, through the one eye I could keep open, Heather and Marc started getting hungry and want to order food from their normal hangout Gasoline Alley. A great local place to grab a beer, bar food or dinner. I wasn't in the mood for any of it.

Gasoline Alley: http://directory.vindy.com/dining/index.php?biz=535

They returned with plenty of food. Wings, loaded fries, stuffed mushrooms...wow did it smell good. But I knew my stomach, who was on a tilt-a-whirl doing 80 mph, would have none it. I instead nibbled on a sleeve of saltines and sipped down a can or two of Sprite. Marc and Heather watched basketball....I held onto the sofa like it was a seat on an out of control Boeing 747 on its way to crashing into the ground and I could do nothing to stop it.

That night I think I went to sleep. It was either that or just a really long nightmare.

St. Patrick let me off the hook as daylight hit, he had to. It was March 18th and his time was up. I awoke with the sofa still in the same place, my stomach had been let off its wild ride and the evil liquor in my system was out of gas. Though my headcold was alive and well. It continued for the next week. And I'm sure it stayed as long as it did because of the fuel I threw on the fire that Saturday afternoon.

This year I had to work on that holiday as it landed on a Monday. It was disappointing not to join my friends for another round of Irish fun as I would have been much better prepared, but then again it was probably a good thing. I was relegated to attending Akron City Council that night. I think St. Patrick was doing me a favor...he knew better than to let Mr. Amateur try it again.

Remember those commercials of the egg frying in the skillet with the voice saying, "Your brain on drugs." Well...I have never dabbled in the illegal, or even legal, narcotics of any kind. But I now know exactly what they meant.

For me, pride and common sense don't - and didn't -mix....and the lack of sleep....and head colds...and alcohol... and an empty stomach.

My new slogan for St. Patrick's Day: The weak need not apply ;)

Hall Monitors For Hire

Between radio jobs (those of which decided I was no longer a desired commodity) I've looked into some interesting sources of income. In Dallas when delivering pizza six days a week, 14 hours a day became a little old I searched for other opportunities.

Dallas Morning News: http://www.dallasnews.com/

The one that sticks in my mind is the ad I answered in the Dallas Morning News for "Security Guards Wanted". Decent pay was offered with hours which would allow me to have a second job without a problem. I had to at least check into it. Following a quick phone call I was scheduled to join a group of others interested in the job to hear more details. Upon first look most of those who attended this meeting along with me I wouldn't have allowed to guard my mailbox let alone my business. You could tell the majority just needed a quick income because they had nothing else or refused to do anything else. Others had families to support and needed a second job.

Our instructor...hmm..imagine Aunt Jemima being REALLY ticked off. No wholesome attitude here. She had a menacing look and a stare that would make you confess every sin you've ever committed or even thought about committing. She didn't take any crap either.

Aunt Jemima: http://www.auntjemima.com/

A couple of those in attendance thought they could break her, get her to laugh or joke around. Sort of like the substitute teacher who wants to play hardass in order to gain your respect. But wouldn't have it; the jokes and smart comments wouldn't penetrate her steel-like facade.

After getting the lowdown of what they were expecting we were told those who seemed worthy of their time would get a call back. I barely said a word and all I had done was fill out a small questionnaire. They could apparently tell the good from the bad & ugly by your address. Hey, if it works...maybe they should sell the idea to our legislators!

I was lucky enough to be contacted for a week's worth of classroom review of duties and regulations - its amazing to know all it takes to be a security guard is to complete five, one hour review sessions. This consisted of leafing through the recently photocopied manual with commentary from a ticked off & unhappy Aunt Jemima look-a-like with badge.

We were also relegated to watching their training videos. Yeah..you've seen these. Current employees forced (at gunpoint I think) to read a script of things they would never say on the job in a monotone, robotic voice in front of another co-worker with a camcorder. I know some the information passed on to us was necessary, but telling us our only weapon to scare off would be intruders or juvenile delinquents who were up to no good was a notepad and pencil isn't what I wanted to hear.

Leave It To Beaver: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leave_It_to_Beaver

As displayed by our training videos the world still revolved like it did in episodes of Leave It To Beaver. These people were supposed to stop what they were doing and drop their weapons of choice by my mear presence. Better yet they were dismayed that I was writing down their names, God Forbid! How could they go on! What I was supposed to do with this list of names was unclear. Was I supposed to submit them to management to get the culprits barred from the mall? "NO...I have to have my Orange Julius!", is the phrase I imagined would come from those being "punished".

During that week our instructor did loosen up a bit, but just enough to show she was human and not the cyborg we thought she was. Though I was taking part in the You Can Be A Security Guard Too! classes I was also looking for possible work elsewhere because I just wasn't exactly sold on the idea of being a rent-a-cop armed with a pen & pencil set.

Cyborg: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyborg

On the last day of classes we were given uniforms. Funny, we did this by going into the changing room closet that contained various sizes of security guard-like dress shirts, slacks and shoes. When I say security guard-like I mean they were all black in color. With my uniform ready to go I was given my assignment. On Monday I was to arrive at this office building with my notepad & writing utensil and guard the structure through the evening and early morning hours. I wasn't too enthused about it, but it was work.

Fortunately one of my other job searches had turned up another restaurant gig which paid a bit more (And was a bit less frightening). So on that weekend I informed the security company of my premature departure from law enforcement via voicemail on their business answering machine. I never heard anything back from them so I'm guessing my assignment was covered. I'm sure they were plenty others waiting to fill my shoes.

I've never had another urge, or situation to push me in, to dig into the security or law enforcement. I figured I'd leave that to those who weren't built like a sapling. Being six-foot-three, 180 pounds with stick figure arms & legs is scaring only to those who think you have an eating disorder.

So radio has been an adventure and I'm sure when I leave the business I'll miss a lot of it. Then again, I'm sure there is plenty I'll be happy to put behind me...for a long, long time.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

I'm working on my sixth month as a resident of the great Rubber City known as Akron, Ohio and for as many times as I have moved I must say this is the weirdest venture up to this point. The most recent fun took place earlier this month.

On this weekend my girlfriend Christine (who lives in Columbus) was visiting. We had enjoyed a good day weather wise outside and had returned to eat and hangout. As she kicks off her shoes and settles on my bulky, yet comfy, couch I open the fridge to contemplate that afternoon's dinner. Within minutes the sound of sirens, police sirens, are blaring. No real big deal...you hear them all the time as the area surrounding my neighborhood isn't exactly Camelot.

I halfway ignore them, but then Christine indicates they seem to be getting closer. I too take notice and at that point the screeching of tires is coming from my street....the one right outside my first floor apartment. Christine says, "Hey I think somebody is being chased?!" I run to my front door just in time to see this dark red, rusty pickup barrelling down my street. The driver (who looks like he hit puberty just the day before) is driving with one hand on the wheel with the other lazily hanging out the window. His passenger, who is apparently none to happy about playing The Dukes of Hazzard, is hanging out the window from the waist up and his waving his hands in his best "Please don't shoot me!" imitation.

The Dukes of Hazzard: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dukes_of_Hazzard

They slow down and they decide to turn at the next left. Bad move there gangsta boys! That left is the driveway to the parking lot of my complex and Mario Andretti's getaway attempt took him around the backside my building & right back onto the street from which they came. Even more amusing was that the pair of Akron Police Cruisers chasing them down did the exact same thing. I nearly started looking to see if Wile E. Coyote and the Road Rrunner were going to join in.

Mario Andretti: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mario_Andretti

Wile E. Coyote & Road Runner: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wile_E._Coyote_and_Road_Runner

As the delinquents shoot back onto the roadway ahead of them are four more APD cruisers, two Summit County Sheriff's Deputies and a paddy wagon. Apparently the "shortcut" gave the guys in blue enough time to make some headway. Though from the looks of the getaway truck it would have disintegrated once it hit 65 miles an hour.

Tweedledum and dumber have nowhere to go as the road is littered with armed officers. Their snappy, quick-decision answer to remedy the situation? Bail out of the truck as it continues moving. The doors fling open and both jump to what they hope is freedom. As the truck hits the curb and rolls into the yard of another apartment complex the driver is able to land on his feet and sprints down a flight of steps and disappears behind a building with a small police battalion giving chase. His passenger hits the ground, but knows better. He stands still with his hands in the air.

The unhappy officers tell him to lay flat, face first, on the ground with a few F-words inserted in their request. That's when one of the ticked-off pursuers digs is knee into the culprits spine and puts cuffs on him. Shortly there after boy genius returns in cuffs with an entourage of winded officers and deputies. He looks sick, almost as if he had drugs of some sort and to get rid of them he decide to swallow it all. The squad shows up and 20 to 30 minutes later all is back to normal.

The best part was that Christine and I sat and watched from the front door of my apartment like our own episode of "COPS". Before we decided to head in my neighbor, an older woman who was also gawking, says to us, "Can you believe that?" We agreed and was just about indicate those two punks probably need to be institutionalized. Just then my neighbor went to say something to the fact, "Those poor boys...those officers didn't need to be so rough with them or use that foul language. That's police brutality."

What!?!! These punks had just took police on a chase along residential streets at 60 miles an hour with no regard for their surroundings or others who were on the road. They even shot through an apartment complex parking lot like it was part of race course! And I'm sure they were being chase for taking part in some really good illegal activity. My neighbor moved on and Christine & I looked at each other like we had entered bizarro world and just met their leader.

The rest of the weekend went on without anymore police chases and I'm sure the teenage criminals are now spending their holidays either in straitjackets or among the best of Akron's locked-up gang population. I hope it was worth it. Goodluck explaining that on your resume in the coming years future Whopper floppers.

Akron and Summit County isn't short of fun times. Ohio's disgraced former Attorney General Marc Dann (sexual harassment of interns and cheating on his wife with one of them)...yep he's from this area...and just this week 42nd House District Representative John Widowfield of Cuyahoga Falls (in Summit County) resigned after it was discovered he used campaign contributions to buy Ohio State Football season tickets (over $3,000 worth) and sold them on EBay...for a higher price!! Scalping tickets bought with campaign contributions and pocketing the profit...that's working for the people man!

Marc Dann: http://www.akronnewsnow.com/news/itemdetail.asp?ID=19977&section=news&subsection=politicsnews

John Widowfield: http://www.akronnewsnow.com/news/itemdetail.asp?ID=20524&section=news&subsection=politicsnews

Six months down in Akron and the fun has just begun. Wow, I think some heavy drinking is in my future.