Close your eyes and pretend for a moment you're driving your car naked. Yep. Naked as a jaybird. You're steering & braking & signaling and performing every function of operating a vehicle - devoid of clothing. Why might you do that? Maybe it's hot - unbearably hot. You have no A/C and the windows don't go down. That's plausible. Maybe you don't want armpit stains on a special shirt you plan on wearing that night. Maybe in the process of taking off the shirt, you thought, "What the Heck, I'll take off my pants too!"
Moved in. Ready for show Thursday & Friday AM. 9pm, it started raining. Hundreds and hundreds of tent campers getting drenched. From the ruckus outside my camper, rain isn't dampening the mood. When ya get here, mail firstname.lastname@example.org. We can hook up possibly. Kellie says hi. More Thursday!!
It's time to review the official man's summer time ritual. Of course, this involves grilling food outdoors for a picnic at your place. When a man volunteers to do the BBQ, the following chain of events are put into motion: The woman buys the food. The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables and makes dessert. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill... beer in hand. Here comes the important part: The man places the meat on the grill. The woman goes inside to organize the plates and silverware. The woman comes out to tell the man the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she'll bring him another beer while he deals with the situation. Important again: The man takes the meat off the grill and hands it to the woman. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins and sauces and brings them to the table. After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes. Everyone praises the man and thanks him for his cooking efforts. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off." Upon seeing her annoyed reaction, he concludes that there's just no pleasing some women.
I've been into radio for most of my life. I remember a night at Danny Lillards house in the 60's when he turned on a radio. I remember Jay and the Americans singing Cara Mia & John Fred & the Playboys singing Judy in Disguise. I'm not sure why I remember that, but I do, my brain is wired that way. I remember the DJ conducting a contest and giving a phone number. This was a local station, so we called and won!!! It was something like a coupon for a pizza, but that was the exact moment I was hooked. I didn't call a station for a contest for several more years, but that's when I began listening to radio often - and buying radios. I think the first radio I bought was a Sony clock radio I bought with my moms TV stamps. I went through the drawers and filled in the books, until I had enough to go to the redemption center. I listened to that radio daily for years, until I reduced it to it's component parts (yes, I soon began taking radios apart) to see what was inside. Now all these years later, I have radios everywhere. I bet if there is some Guiness record for total radios owned - I'd be in the running. Only an obsessive collector would have more. I use my radios. I have a radio in virtually every room in my home. I have one at the desks I use, both at home and at work. I listen in the car. This is why I've never really been into cassettes & CD's in the car. They would never tell me something I didn't know. They don't inform me in any way. I learn nothing from them. Radio, on the other hand is unfolding right there before my ears in real time. If something happens, I count on my radio to tell me. I like battery radios. This is the ultimate radio. You can pick it up and take it anywhere, even to a room with other radios. My love of radios surely played a part of my deciding to go into the radio business. I had three choices. Build radios. Sell Radios or be on the radio. I chose the latter.
Often I see reports on how you can deduce things about a person, by the things they own - or do - or say. These things reveal inner feelings a person might not be ready to admit. Psychiatrists draw conclusions about people from these things. Obsessive behaviors for example.
"My Chicken is Raw." This is what I hear each time I grill Chicken. "It's pink in the middle." This usually means I have to return the chicken to the grill to cook even longer. In my opinion, the chicken isn't pink - it's not undercooked in any way. I usually grill chicken for 45 minutes easily. Often I grill the daylights out of it - leaving not one drop of moisture in it. Even then - "This is raw!" I'm expected to serve my family hard, dry chicken - and I'm fed up.