Observations and Ramblings of a Cranky Old Guy

Greetings all, hope all is well with you.

It has been one HELL of a year, and it ain’t done yet.

Where do we start?

Well, obviously COVID, the lock for Time Magazine’s “Pandemic of the Year.”

Guess what? I am SO burnt out on that topic (not EVEN gonna touch politics), I can’t talk about it anymore.

So, in keeping with a theme discussed by the staff, let’s put a turkey spin upon it.

“What are you most thankful for?”

If you read my column last issue, the simple answer is I am alive to write a column for THIS issue.

If you missed it (twenty-five words or less), heart attack(s), coronary bypass, two months not working.

As of this writing, finally back to work, ticker is fine, and all health problems related to said heart attack and bypass seem to be going away.

And AS this column is being written, I just had a flashback to my childhood to something similar that happened to my dad.

1969, my dad Sam (55 at the time) was a meat cutter by trade, and a clumsy one at that.

That clumsiness with a saw led to him being diagnosed as a type two diabetic two years earlier.

Sam was never in good health, 125 pounds soaking wet, and a two pack a day Camel unfiltered smoker.

That Thanksgiving, the family went to New Jersey to see my mother’s family.

It was an absolutely fabulous time.

That Saturday, my dad was in his chair when he grabbed his chest and screamed in pain.

He was having a heart attack.

We were living in Loudonville at the time, so the ambulance rushed him to Albany Memorial.

We stayed for the afternoon while they worked on him, late in the day we were told to go home and let him rest.

We were called two hours later, hurry back…now, he was having multiple heart attacks.

We didn’t make it in time.

Hard to believe it has been fifty-one years.

Harder to believe there was a chance I was going to have a possible repeat of history.

Like I said, that I am here is Thanks Number One.

Moving on to Thanks Number Two, and why I am most happy for Thanks Number One.

My three grandsons.

Chris is 17, and a senior in high school.

Zach is 12, and in 7th grade.

Mason just turned 7, and is in 2nd grade.

There is no doubt in my mind that their births were the top three moments of my life.

(I’ll take this moment to add meeting, living with and spending twenty-one years of married life with my wife is in there, but I know how important the boys are to her as well, so this time I know she won’t mind that they get top billing.)

We are both actively involved with all three, from school to sports to fun activities, to of course being the “fun” grandparents.

We have gone (with all three) from diapers to nursery school to elementary school to junior high to high school, and now with one, thoughts of college.

With the passage of time, we are now the patriarch and matriarch of the family.

If you ask me, that’s an odd family dynamic, but one we cherish.

Our boys keep us young.

Our boys keep us hopping.

Our boys keep us going, making sure we will do whatever we can to stick around as long as possible to watch them on their way to adulthood.

Finally, for me, but much farther down the list, my so-called broadcast career.

(Moved down even further in importance after the health issues discussed earlier, things in my life have changed, and as much as I love what I have done professionally since 1977, I would give it up in a moment to be with my wife and family as long as possible.)

I am at the point I am finally thinking about a retirement in my future, and the next step in my life with my wife.

Doesn’t mean I am packing up the microphone anytime soon, but I envision a time without a radio station.

That’s major for me, as I once thought I couldn’t live without it.

Now, as much as I love what I do, living without it seems a possibility.

Priorities.

Be hearing you