I began life as a surprise.
Apparently, an unexpected one - but then, aren't ALL surprises unexpected?
My mother was undergoing a routine x-ray in an attempt to diagnose some stomach discomfort she'd been experiencing, when, lo and behold . . . there I was, probably making  shadow puppets on the x-ray screen.
Yes, that's right - blasted with radiation before even leaving the womb.
Explains a LOT, doesn't it?
My childhood was happy and uneventful - except, of course, for the hundreds of times I was dropped on my head during driveway basketball games with my older brother.
Really explains a LOT, doesn't it?
After completing a four year Bachelors Degree in six years, I ventured into the cold, cruel world of radio - landing first, in the affluent retirement community of Palm Springs, California.
It was here that my illustrious radio career began - along with my lifetime friendship with Frank Sinatra (his lifetime, not mine).
 After running with "The Rat Pack" for several years, replacing the incredibly lame Peter Lawford (sure, he knew the Kennedys, but other than that . . . what good was he?), the lifestyle caught up with me - and I returned to my hometown of Seattle, Washington where I honed my broadcast skills, failed miserably in a tryout as a third baseman for my beloved Seattle Mariners, had several physically gratifying, yet emotionally vacant relationships*, and drank a LOT of beer.
Ten years later, fat, drunk, and successful beyond my wildest dreams - I had reached a crossroads. As Voltaire had said, "Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son.
It was either Voltaire, or Dean Wormer from "Animal House," I can't really remember which - the point is, I needed to dry up and fast.
Fortunately, salvation came to me in the form of a job in the dry heat of Phoenix, Arizona - unfortunately, that job came in the form of a morning show.
"Man is not meant to arise until the sun is warm." - B. Franklin**
 Once I realized that I'd have to wake up at 3:30 am EVERY DAY, I left the desert before I could even get a tan.
I then crossed country and returned to the sane haven of afternoons at DC 101, in Washington, DC, doing my damnedest to get the suits up on Capitol Hill to quit lining their pockets and do something good for the people of this country.
Yeah, good luck with that.
After nearly eight years of tilting at that particular windmill***, I moved down the dial to BIG 100.3, where, after four years of getting up at 3:30 IN THE MORNING again, I was freed (read: fired) to resume my nocturnal lifestyle.
And now I find myself on the air at Rock 103 in Columbus, GA, and I feel free.
Free from the pressure of the rat race, free from the frustrations of constant gridlock, and free to jam my piehole with as much barbecue and sweet tea as it'll hold.
And Now . . . A Squirrel With Enormous Testicles!
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