Rock Around the Clock

Some of you are starting to scare me. I do this harmless little treatise on my “get back my health” routine? And now a few of you say it’s inspired you to “give it a go.” Man, this may be more pressure than I can bear.  Who is going to hold my hand if I fall off the wagon?  Are there rehab centers for stuff like this?

 

So Sunday, in between football games? I hop on my bike and get in a quick 20 mile ride. Then, after the last game? I run down to the gym and lift weights for an hour. And then since no one is out on the basketball court because I’m the only one left in the building on a Sunday night?  I shoot hoops for a half hour. I go home exhausted with high expectations that I’d lost some weight. NARY AN OUNCE!

So Monday, when I’m actually writing this off line? I get up early, jump into my shorts and run the stairs for 10 minutes. Now, I have in fact knocked off a pound. But I’m pretty sure it isn’t going to hold.  So I run a bunch of errands which include breakfast,  and head off to class. I am pretty sure I’ve eaten enough to get that pound back.

AFTER class I get home, jump back into my shorts, and head over to the local tennis courts. There I hit balls for an hour.  (This is the kind of stuff I used to do when I was sixteen. For the record I am no longer sixteen.)

 Well I run around the court enough to work up a sweat, but even then I’m worried about that imagined pound. So what else can I do?

I remember a congratulatory response I get from Local TV anchor Jim Benemann. He then takes a wiser approach than many of you. He suggests I run a few laps FOR him.

So, off I go to the local high school and crank out a couple of laps for Jim. I personally would characterize the pace as being somewhere between a jog and a trot. DONE!

AND you should feel them Jim. For one thing, I ran them in the outside lane of the track. And I sprint the last 20 yards. FEEL THE PAIN!

I think I’m going to make this assigned reading for senior students who come to me in torture ‘cause they haven’t accomplished their “Life’s Goals” yet.

Ah, plenty of time ahead of you to follow your rainbows. No matter how serious or silly they might  be.

 

Addendum: You've heard people talk about their weight loss excitement when they can acutally see their feet again standing up? Well the thrill for me is rediscovering my appendectomy scar. Cool. And I probably shouldn't be sharing this about my belly button but here goes. My OUTIE? It's once again an INNIE! TOO COOL!

"Hey, Good Buddy!"

This posting will be a great opportunity for you to eavesdrop on a very personal letter I'm sending to my great personal friend and confidante, John Elway.

You know I told you in an earlier posting this would be a safe haven from politics for the next week? But, ah, here's the rub. My caveat to that vow was unless something really weird or wacky took place.  Then I would be all over it.

Well, welcome to weird and wacky.

More than 24, but less than 48 hours after I wrote that?  I get a phone call. And who is on the line?(recorded)   That's right.  My life long close personal friend, John Elway.

[I actually know some people who've never seen a football game in their life span.  For their sake, John Elway is a Hall of Fame Professional Football Player Emeritus.]

Well in this friendly," haven't talked to you in a long time Paul" tone, John says he wants to chat about his other really close personal friend Blah Blah.  Well, as it turns out,  ol' Blah Blah is running for governor and John thinks I ought to vote for Blah Blah.

Well, let's cut to the chase . I HAVE had some contact with John Elway over the years.  In fact we broke into a house together in an exclusive Denver area neighborhood a few decades ago.

 These people were dumb enough to donate their home so John could shoot a promotional video  hyping his first video game. I was the head umpire on  the fake  field. I don't know if John was offended? Or if he  holds it against me after all these years?

But  I'm pretty sure I was the only person on the set who didn't ask him for his autograph.

I've also interviewed John many times doing those obligatory football fan stories. I would get  to ask him those tough probing questions like, "Say John, how does it feel to win the SuperBowl?"

Now I'm really not much of a betting man? But I'm willing to put up a nickel that says John Elway has no  "Blinkin" idea who I am. And that sort of brings me to my point. 

John is asking me to vote for his good friend BLAH BLAH?

Now here's the deal John.  I'm one of those annoying people who refuses  to affiliate with a party.  I'm one of those guys you've really got to WOO to get his vote. Now I know where I'm leanin' on this....but if you really want me there on November 7th?

 Okay John, when I see you and BLAH BLAH smoking cigars together in your box at Invesco Field? When I see BLAH BLAH driving around town in one of your Elway Toyotas with the Elway License frame? When I see you and BLAH BLAH "high fiving" it at the Stutler Bowl...as your son Jack tosses a TD pass? When I see you and BLAH BLAH teeing it up together  on the 7th hole at Cherry Hills? When I see BLAH BLAH having a beer at the bar and chomping down on one your prime ribs at your steak house?

[By the way the view from Rod Smith and Terrell Davis' steak house (Trappers) puts  your's to shame]

When I see BLAH BLAH sneaking over to your place on Poker Night?  Maybe, just maybe I'd give him the nod. I just want to make sure he really IS your CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND.

Whoops! Early voting.  You're too late. Sorry John, I don't vote and tell.

Thanks for callin'. Great to hear from you.

Pink Yarn

Twice a year a bunch of we "MATURE" broadcasters gather enmasse to swap old war stories. The soiree was initiated by three media account executives several decades ago.  

Over the years they've allowed a good number of we on-air and byline narcissists into the room. We've all good humouredly [humour spelled that way on purpose] accepted the group appellation, Denver Dinosaurs.

 As we've aged? Nobody wears makeup anymore. We all pretty much look and sound alike. If you're "GenX"? At first glance  you're likely to  peg us as Walmart greeters.

The man in the picture up there, John Rayburn, has never met a camera or microphone he didn't (love) like. And watch out. His legendary wit and energy will exhaust you. And believe me, you can't just hear one story. His punchlines are just transitions into the next saga.

If you are of our wizened era? You could walk around the room and recognize many a face and name tag. That is probably not true of the woman in that picture up there. And that's too bad.

That's Betty Demerest. Betty spent most of her adult years keeping a Radio/TV station, and then later just a Radio station, alive. While most of her legacy comes from what she did behind several desks? She holds one important distinction that doesn't get enough attention by my way of thinking.. 

Betty was one of the first voices in the country to be on the air on Sunday mornings reading us the "COMICS."

Betty is no slouch at spinning a yarn either.

There is one clear distinction between the Ad People  and the "talent." The Ad Person's joke is shorter and snappier. Even now he or she wants to get the point, and then close the deal.

I've missed the last two of these get togethers.  That has kind of an interesting effect. We all tell the same stories luncheon after luncheon, after luncheon. But with short term memory issues? A year and a half hiatus makes it seem like you're hearing them all for the first time.

I'd show you more pictures? But most of us don't like our pictures taken without makeup anymore. I asked permisssion for this one. And picture 2 is from  retired TV director Tom Dickenson, whose legacy will be his annual performance as Santa Claus. ( I hope you're reading this after all the kids have gone to bed.)

Say...there's a little sidebar story to go with my pursuit of the Pink Simi Driver.  Have you read the story about the Texas sheriff who has solved his jail over crowding issue?  How? According to AOL the guy has painted his entire jail pink.  The website tells us he makes the prisoners wear pink jumpsuits, even to court.

 AOL says in  the  year after going PINK? The sheriff records no, that's zero, repeat offenders booking rooms in his facility..

That quickly reminds me of a noise nuisance story I covered here in Colorado. In this rural county, a judge's punishment for violating the town's noise law? You must sit in his courtroom for two hours listening to classical music. If you like classical music? The judge has some old L.P.s of cowboy crooners like Roy Rogers and Gene Autry.  And there are some Rap and Hip Hop CDs.

I'm not there obviously, but rumor is it's pretty quiet up in that little corner of Colorado.

I don't know. What do you think? Pink or Gene Autry? Tough choice. But I'm thinkin' this is just the kind of thing that reminds John Rayburn of another story.

Sit down and prepare to linger a while.

"I went to a Garden Party...."

Well now my good friend Becky is sad because I say I'm going to backoff on BullyDozers to please my good friend Mindy. Well, in the lyrics of little Ricky Nelson?

"Ya can't please everybody, so you've got to please yourself."

Actually, in keeping with the political climate, I'm out to please anyone who plans to vote. 

"MY FRIENDS....I PROMISE YOU A BULLYDOZER IN EVERY GARAGE...or not."

If you are looking for a safe haven during the next week and a half? We probably won't be talking politics at this location. It's not that I don't care. It's just that I think I know too much, and therefore, kind of don't care.

Yeah, I'm going to vote.  I never ignore that privilege. I hope you don't either.  But I refuse to participate in, or encourage the participation in, the desperate posturing and rancor of the campaigns' final moments.

What we see, hear and read from all of them over the next week will be at best distortions. We'll hear promises that can't or won't be kept.

At worst we'll be hearing out and out lies. And somehow on the backside? Our system tends  to work. I don't why, but it does.

 Now if something really weird or goofy happens? I'm on it.  

Okay, here comes some sloppy, speculative, unfounded, probably wrong journalism that gives BLOGS a bad name.

Take a gander at PICTURE 2, and then get back to me.

 

Now I see this and shoot it from a distance with a long lens. I do not rush to the scene to confirm my suspicions. At first blush you might think, "what a wonderful MOM out supervising the kids having their winter fun."

Well, what I'm afraid I didn't capture?  In the next non-existent frame she is knocking the toddler off the sled. And in the next nonexistent frame? She jumps on the sled and throws herself off this Black Diamond one and half degree sloped suburban hill with shouts of glee.

Well I think I've effectively disguised her identity should this all be bogus. Maybe I miss some subtleties that will explain it all away. But if the speculation is in anyway true? Mommy, shame on you!!  

THE YEAR? 2025

LOCATION? PSYCHAITRIST'S OFFICE

"What seems to be troubling you Tom?"

"I think I hate myself."

"Hmmmmmm?"

"I just don't think I can go on!"

"Why do you think that is, Tom?"

"I don't think, I know.  It's because my mother threw me off my sled when I was four, and then stole it from me. Then she slides down the  hill laughing all the way. And here I am standing at the top of this big mountain all by myself."

"I see, hmmmmm!"

"What do I owe you Doc?"

"This is a horrible revelation.  Nothing, you owe me nothing."

"So I went to a garden party, and they all knew my name......." 

Deep in Thought

Well, it's still October and, right here?  We are under a blanket of a foot of snow. What's going on my little El Nino. (Can you believe it? I'm a morning person staying up late enough to watch the Craig Ferguson show.)  Do any keyboards include the TILDE? They must because I see it in print a lot.

I make my students listen to this tirade every year, so you might as well hear it as well. Why, when there is a major snowstorm anywhere, the media...all media...say, "make sure you get an early start."

Result? We all get on the highway at the same time and just sit there burning three dollar a gallon gas. And we're still late for work! All highways to my understanding have finite dimensions.

And, it's my understanding, they are build to accomodate predicted volume. No provisions, that I know of, have ever been made for the roads to just get bigger on the spot when it snows. 

Try these metaphors on for size. Ever try to push a sweet potatoe (Dan Quayle and I think that's how it ought to be spelled) through a keyhole?  How about an apple through a hose?

Anyway, I turn this little diatribe into a TV story many moons ago? I find many frustrated motorists coaxed into becoming parts of the sweet potatoe (It is an alternate, although not encouraged, spelling). 

I even get Dan Hopkins, then the spokesperson for the Department of Highways, now the mouth piece for the Governor, to agree with me. He says, "yeah it is a dumb idea to encourage everybody to get an early start."

But he also cautions me I might have a little trouble selling the story, politically speaking. Well, I should have listened. He knows a lot more about politics than I do.

At the end of the story the anchor (dear Bertha Lynn by name) says, "that's really an interesting story Paul."

We go to a commercial break.  Out of the break it's time for weather. Bertha says to the Weather Anchor (I'm 90 percent sure it is Marty Coniglio), " Marty, any advice to commuters with this storm coming." 

"Yeah, Bertha. Everybody should get an early start."

Clearly they know a lot more about politics than I do too.

There is a time in media history when Dan Hopkins is the traffic reporter for Triple A? His reports are aired over half the radio stations in this Metro Area. Noting similar conditions to which I've just described, in his report,  he says somethinglike?

"If you'll all just leave for work at your regular time, and slow down to a safe speed, we'll all just be about ten or fifteen minutes late to work.  LATE but ALIVE."

So the Triple A phones are ringy ding dinging?

"Good Morning. Triple A!"

"This is Bill Coors! I want to talk to that traffic idiot who says it's okay for my employees to show up 15 minutes late. If they show up late they'll lose their beer break."

"Good Morning. (with depleted enthusiasm) Triple A!"

"This is Charles Gates. (probably from the grave) The reason people are on the road at all this morning is because my company's employees show up to work on time and make tires and fan belts.  Let me talk to the Dan Hopkins person."

You know it's probably better to just call in sick.

Advice to students. Don't send me an email saying there is no way you can make it to school with all the snow that fell at your house. 

That is, don't send that email until you've done your homework. That is, done your homework, and know where I live.

These are funny emails to read when I've done my homework. I've done my homework and know you just live a few blocks away from me.

One year I get one of these emails detailing the transportation problem of having to get to school,  in the snow,  having to drive a specific vehicle? 

You guess it.  It is a later model of the conveyance I use to find MY way to campus.

Here's some ironies, in my mind.  So it snows a foot?

Let me give credit where credit is certainly due.

The mailperson holds true to the company's motto. The mail arrives.

[NEITHER SNOW, NOR HEAT, NOR RAIN, NOR GLOOM OF NIGHT....BLAH, BLAH, BLAH]

And hey, it's bottled water delivery day. There are heavy footprints in the front yard.  And there are two big hunkin' bottles of water sitting on my front porch. But guess who the no-shows are?

The paper isn't here. Now in ancient history when the paper is delivered by some 12 year old on his Schwin?  Understandable.

But in this age when the paper person is a soccer mom, delivering the paper from her heated HUM V, driven by GPS, paper slung by automated slinging device?  There really should not be an excuse.

And here's one I'll never understand.

When former Energy and Transportation Secretary Federico Pena was Mayor here? When he faces a storm of even greater proportion?. What implement does he  enlist to pack down the snow on the streets to make them passable?

You probably didn't guess. He employs those big ol' monstrous go anywhere, anytime, GARBAGE TRUCKS.

So who doesn't show up for duty in this snow storm?

This time you DID guess it. GARBAGE TRUCK!

I didn't get a good picture of one? But a garbage can caked with a foot of snow makes a dandy snowman (person).  

And, Oh! In the mail? The Garbage Truck BILL.

I promise my friend Mindy I will be temperate for a while on the Backyard Bullydozer saga.  I can't afford to lose her.  But I must follow up on the espying of a the Pink Simi sitting amongst the BullyDozers. 

I did track down the project manager. He then directs me to an assistant project manager who might know who'd be brave enough to own and/or drive a pink semi. 

Well I get busy and humbled by Mindy's ennui. So I just kiss it off for the time being?  And then I head to work?  I'm late and pushing the speed limit on a major East-West Thoroughfare.  But I'm not going so fast that I miss a "big ol' pink" semi racing in the opposite direction. 

I damn near slam on the breaks and jump the median. Oh, those missed TV opportunities.

That's all moot now anyway since I get topped by stepdaughter Rhonda.  In case you haven't read her comment?  She knows of a trucking company in the Bay Area that boasts a fleet of LAVENDER semis, all decked out in lace curtains. And all the drivers? Uh, huh! Women.

I'm still going to get the Pink Semi story, but it pales in comparison. Lavender?  Whoa!

Now that's deep!

[THIS JUST IN: THE PAPER JUST ARRIVED. SHE MUST HAVE TAKEN MY ADVICE AND LEFT AT HER REGULAR TIME.]

 

MY Loss is MY Gain

Yeah, that's me. I'm in a pair of pants that were tight 4 months ago. And that's a tee shirt I haven't been able to get into for 6 years. For the record I'm 6 inches thinner around waist and 33 pounds lighter. That's it for the ad isn't it?  Now I just have to jump up and down and tell you how it's changed my life, and I feel sexy again, right?

I tell myself I'm not going to talk about this unless a bunch of people get brave enough to actually say something to me.  So here's some conversations I'm having?

"Wow!"

"Thanks."

"Subway?"

"No!"

"Atkins? South Beach I'll bet!"

"Uh, Uh!"

From my generation?

"You must be on the Mayo Clinic Diet."

"FAT CHANCE!" ( The Mayo Clinic always disavowed any connection with that regimen.)

"Pritikin?"

"Not on your life."

From the concerned:

"I was afraid to ask for fear you might be seriously ill."

"No, no, no, no! Relax.  I'm good."

I'll tell you HOW good a few paragraphs down.

I'm blabbing about this, in part, because it forces me into a commitment. I WILL NOT gain a pound through the holidays. Hold me to it. I've never been able to achieve that goal.

I'm also talking about it because being sexy again means nothing if you can't brag like this:

Cholesteral total: 125

LDL:                     46

HDL:                     69

BP  average         116/72

I'm still on some MEDS, but barely.

So how? Well, first I talk to my doctor who removes all excuses.

"Sorry Paul, but there are absolutely no limits on your exercise."

And here is some shocking  revolutionary doctor's advice:

"Eat lots of fresh vegetables and fruits and limit your intake of red meat."

Earth Shaking, don't you think? Gosh if I'd known that earlier?

[Disclaimer: Don't try any of this without consulting with your own medical guru.]

I'm going to give my get in shape program a name. I'm going to call it the LTM plan.

"Eh?"

On most given days I can't find my glasses, my pen, my cell phone, my school bag. Why? Like many of you in my age category and plus, my short term memory sucks. Therefore, I've decided to rely on my long term memory, or LTM.

So I question myself:

"When in your life were you in good shape?"

    High School Football , Warehouse, Peace Corps Training, Early Teaching years, Late 30's.

How did you get there?

   Two a days, 100 pound flour sacks, two a days, running.

What did you eat?

   Lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, and an occasional steak.

How often did you exercise?

   Twice a day

What kinds of exercise?

   Table Tennis, Unicycle, Football,  Basketball,  Running,  Jogging,  Body Surfing, Volleyball, Running on Beach, Cycling, Hiking, Skiing, Weight Lifting, Tennis, and some Swimming.  

What were your stumbling blocks?

    I'd get bored. No one to play with.  I'd say to myself I was too busy. I'd get injured. I'd get competitive and frustrated I couldn't win all the time. I'd get depressed over some key life event.  I'd just decide it was time to relax.  I'd slip into some less than healthy extra curricular activites. I'd smoke. I'd drink.

Well, okay then. Here's the LTM

   I'm eating lots of fresh fruit and vegetables.

   I'm doing something physical at least once a day. [My GOAL is to do two a days every day.]

   I plan solo exercise activities. Someone to play with is always a bonus. 

   I meditate to get through life frustrations.

   When I get lazy I remind myself how good I feel.

   I don't smoke.

   I drink in moderation.

Sorry, but that's it.  That's Paul's LTM get in shape plan. No charge!

Can't be any good then, can it?

By the way? On my last entry some of you thought I Photo Shopped that Pink Semi.  Not so. Somebody actually owns and drives a PINK SEMI.  I'll see if I can find out who.  It may take a while.  Be patient.

I'd love to stick around and chat, but I've gotta RUN.

In The Pink

It was the Peace Corps, in it's early recruiting days,  that popularized the maxim, " Is the glass half full? Or is it half empty?"

It is I who hopes to popularize the maxim, "Is that a PINK semi or is it just SEMI pink?"

Peace Corps? Semi? Pink? Water? Full? Empty? Connection?

NONE!

Relevance to today's posting?

NONE!

I won't say my life's desires are complete. But today I can scratch off a long time yearning from my master list.  While it won't be moving pictures?  I can finally illustrate with a STILL PICTURE the phenomenon of WILD LEAF TEA!

[SEE PICTURE 2]

This BLOG posting, by the way, is dedicated to my good friend and colleague Jim Weis. It is Jim who every fall has to listen to my rambling frustration at not being able to tell this story.  WILD LEAF TEA, you say?

The Television Station I retire from ( and the one Jim Weis still works for ) sits above a major creek.  Well, one year in the mid 80's I'm working on the assignment desk.  It's a late October event. For no good reason it is pouring down rain. [Late October moisture in this town tends to be white and fairly solid.]

Well all morning long on this late October day the phone is ringing at the desk.  And on the other end of the line? People, hundreds of them, calling to report this strange FOAMY substance in the middle of the creek. 

This is at a time when the EPA and state and local health agencies  are cracking down on illegal dumping. Citizens are ready at a wink to report any environmental crime. 

Well, I set out to get to the bottom of this foamy mystery?  And the health departments ARE out investigating. Problems:

1. The stuff is everywhere, flowing through at least five metropolitan jurisdictions. 

2. There is no one clear source.

3. If health people are able to indentify the substance? For some reason they are not talking.

I spend all day long trying to piece this story together. And at the end of the day? I talk to a deep throat public works official in the smallest jurisdiction involved. She makes my day.

"Yeah, I know what it is?"

"REALLY?"

"It's TEA!"

"EH?"

"When leaves have been lying around on the ground for a while, they start to decay.  When they decay they release tannins just the same as tea leavesdo in your cup."

"Okay, I'm with you."

"Bodies of water that play host to the leaves turn dark and brackish."

"Uh, huh!"

"Under normal circumstances, raking, freezing and snow pack pretty much cover up the process."

"BUT?"

"Thats right.  When you get a heavy rain in mid to late fall, it causes the tea to foam up. It would happen with your Darjeeling at home if you put it under a faucet."

"So that's what we're looking at in the creek?"

"98 percent sure."

"So I'm going to send a reporter and photographer your way to get this all on tape."

"No you're not.  This was all off the record."

"But?"

CLICK!

Turns out no official wants to call a LEAF a LEAF, because they are only 98 percent sure. I put the story in my little evergreen list to check on every fall? 

In TV the general rule is if you don't have pictures?  You don't have a story. Well, as a reporter, I try to do that story every year for 17 years.  I can never get the video.

Okay, let's jump forward to today.  Our friend Cheri from Ireland is coming to town.  We're hosting a get together for her.  So I'm out cleaning up the yard.  I notice the bird bath and a small pond are really looking dark and brackish.  Nobody needs to see that, I'm thinking?

So? I hook the high powered nozzle up to the hose and walk over to the pond.  I just shove the nozzle into the water and let 'er rip.

"OH MY, OH MY!"

It's foam just like the foam I saw in the 80's.  It just keeps coming pouring over the side of the pond.  I am looking at and smelling a combined maple, sage, ash, scrub oak, dogwood, TEA!

Now I could kick myself for not thinking of just doing a demonstration for a camera to tell that story all those years? But people my age should not engage in the act of trying to kick one's self.  I'm just finally glad I CAN FINALLY TELL YOU WHAT IT IS! 

I hope some of those concerned citizens that called in are still alive to read this.  Jim is just going to be happy I'll finally shut up about it.

Yeah, I tasted it.  Can't say as I'd recommend it? But maybe, like green tea? Maybe it's good for you?

I was going to say it'll "put you in the PINK!"

Show of hands! How many of you know or understand that expression?

I didn't think so.