Radio

As my brief "career" in the oil bidness comes to a close, I've been thinking about the many years I spent "in radio."

WRIT-Milwaukee, WI.  My best friend and I stopped by the nearby "Top 40" Radio Station one afternoon.  It was 1956 and we were heading off to high school.  Turns out they needed some help with their record library.  Stations were changing from block programming to using disc jockeys with several hour shifts which called for a lot more music product.  WRIT had been airing 78 rpm records but were in the process of switching to 45's.  They needed us to catalog the new and dispose of the old.  Actually Bunkie, my pal, decided early on that she was heading for a nursing career and took a job at a hospital.  I stayed at WRIT.  It was first owned by a big time Texas Top Forty pioneer named Gordon McLendon.  He had staffed it with several Dallas area djs, sales people (ok, Salesmen) and even engineers.  It was a hot new new station.  However, Wisconsin was union territory, unlike Texas, and the Old Scotchman found unions to be a bit of a bummer.  However, the Manager, Bill Weaver and the Program Director, Gene Edwards, turned out to recur in my life.  McLendon sold WRIT quite soon to some Chicago guys (they knew about unions) and the first group of radio pals was gone.  It was an interesting few years.  One of the deejays started a "dance party" style TV show on which I helped and appeared.  One of the newsmen went on to some TV fame of his own, Tom Snyder, by name.  I'd planned a career in journalism with college to provide it.

But first, the McLendon gang had put a station on the air in Houston.

KILT-Houston, TX.  Bill Weaver was the manager, Gene Edwards, the Program Director.  I had spent many nights babysitting the Edwards' first child Jeri Lynn, and formed a very solid friendship with Gene and wife Joanie.  So they invited me to come to Houston for the summer, live with them and help with Jeri and new born son Howard, and work part time at KILT, new Top 40 Station in town, downtown in the Milby Hotel, across the street from the Rice. My parents allowed me to take off for Texas two days after graduating from high school, for the summer.  I loved the job and the town and the people.  Can you believe that Houston had a population of 400,000 in 1958?  Found out about Radio/TV school at the U of H, applied for and received a scholarship and in the fall moved into the "girls" dorm on Cullen.  Reknown tho' it was the Radio/TV Department was staffed by a bunch of guys whose jobs in radio were in another time, block programming, network superiority, etc.  Not to sound bragadocious, but I helped them when it came to modern day programming.  I also met a guy, he was a senior, worked as a cameraman and announcer at Ch. 13, on Cullen Blvd. Marriage, end of college, have babies, be a Navy wife up East, etc.
But when his career brought him back to Houston, I went back to work at KILT.  Now on Lovett Blvd, still some of the same folks and still successful.

KPRC-Houston, TX.  Finding myself a single mom with three small kids to support and looking for a step up from Continuity Director at KILT, I was hired as station secretary at KPRC, on Post Oak, in the same building with KPRC-TV.  A very nice gig until I married one Paul Williams, ex "The Wild Child" and now a salesman at KNUZ/KQUE.  A new program director at KPRC thought I could not be trusted with secret KPRC programming (already quite far behind in the ratings) and had me demoted to Traffic Assistant.  Fortunately they also carried the Astros who were looking for a production coordinator and there I went.

Asides, after these past fourteen months at a multi-national corporation where most of what the employees think about is maximizing retirement pensions, it occurs to me that while I changed jobs frequently, back and forth between advertising and radio, I never ever considered that I was making no plans for "retirement."  I was trying really hard to support my family.  So, when folks are complimenting themselves on all the grand "Choices" they have made, I'm not.

But wait, more radio.  After Astros, birth of daughter, divorce and other career sidesteps, I found myself back in "Radio" as station secretary to the one and only B. Thomas Hoyt at KODA, Am&Fm, owned by Paul Taft Sr., on San Felipe in Houston.  Good run there, good friends, including Mr. Hoyt and Ed & Pam Shane, Bill Powell, Jason Williams, Bruce Breeding and more.  Many of whom are now my FB friends.

And then:

KNUZ-KQUE, Houston.  After some advertising jobs I went onto the Sales Staff at KNUZ/KQUE.  Paul had been gone for several years to other Houston stations and while he and I didn't do a great job at marriage we managed a long and happy divorce and lots of mutual involvement in radio and advertising until his untimely death in 2009.  I moved up from Sales, to National Sales Manager and even General Sales Manager.  It was a lot of work, not a lot of money and, did I fail to mention, I hated "sales."  I have great personal sales resistance, virtually no negotiation skills and think everything should have a printed price and sell for it.  Obviously not where I could stay forever, although I did last eight years.

The rest of my job time in Houston was in advertising and marketing, for the Chevy First Team and eventually many years at Timmers Chevrolet which became Monument Chevrolet.  I loved writing, producing, directing and even placing our ads and it was a good place to be.  I didn't make a lot of money but once again I made really good friends with whom I'm still in touch and some commercials at South Coast that are among my proudest accomplishments.

So, except for a brief stint at KGRT in Las Cruces during the year I lived there to take care of my brother, I've been out of radio for a long long time and while I liked the work and loved the people, I didn't get a pension.  However, I had the joy of seeing Paul inducted into the Texas Radio Hall of Fame, posthumously, unfortunately.  I've seen many other radio friends equally honored and will be heading to Galveston in November to sit with my "daughter-in-law" Bonny (also many years in radio), to see our old pal Walter Hammock be inducted as well.  At that same event one of the salesmen from way back in KILT days will be going in too.

Radio today bears very little resemblance to the creative, fun-filled life we all knew back in those days.  Now a few mega companies own most of the stations, programming is awful and bottom line is everything.  My memories are of clever, creative and fun folks "putting on a show" everyday for hours at a time.

Alone

I am terminally alone.  That means I don't have anyone, no spouse, no roommate, no significant anything.  I am the only person at my house.  Nobody is going to show up later because he or she has been at work, shopping, or working out at the gym.

This is different from being home alone, temporarily.

If I have a question, an observation or even a project, its up to me to deal with it either by asking Google, talking out loud or to Facebook or getting off my arse and on with the project.

I have many friends who are accompanied in their lives either permanently or temporarily and they cannot imagine why I spend time observing all manner of trivia on Facebook.  It is because I am alone.  I am a naturally conversational human stuck in a totally non human situation.

Its okay.  I'm not even complaining.  I'm just saying it is different.

I don't know why I have never attracted a significant anyone, at least not in a very long time.  Perhaps if I was more diplomatic, cuter, younger or, God knows, richer, I would.  Or maybe not.

My life is fine, as long as I am supplementally employed, stunningly healthy and welcomed at my church.

But, since I don't have anyone coming over or coming to stay, I don't have anyone to talk to and so I observe incessantly on Facebook.

So there.

June 30, 1960

Lindsey English and I were married on August 8, 1959, at the First Congregational Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.  He had just graduated from the University of Houston where I had completed my freshman year.

We honeymooned in Sault Ste Marie and down the middle US back to Houston and moved into an apartment not far from the University.  He continued to work as announcer and cameraman at Channel 13 and I was at AS Black Advertising.

As part of his agreement with the US Naval Reserve, two years of active duty was next on the agenda and shortly after discovering that I was pregnant his call came.  I was pretty excited when he said "Galveston" but not so much when it turned out that he was being assigned to the USS Galveston, CLG3, currently docked in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards.  CLG meant Cruiser Light Guided (as in missiles).

He requested and received permission to come home for the birth of our first baby.  She, due on July 14th, chose to arrived on June 30, 1960, just in time to meet him before he headed back to the ship.

Laura Lise English was born at Hermann Hospital in Houston and we went home five days later to Lindsey's "parents" home in Southwest Houston.  I put parents in quotes because to this day there is serious question as to their actual relationship to him, but it is likely that he was the son of Pop's unmarried sister.  We will never know.  Anyway, Lindsey flew back to Philadelphia and we (I) learned all the correct ways to take care of a new baby girl.  She was very cooperative.

When she was five weeks old we flew to Philadelphia to join her daddy.  Quite an experience that was.  Lindsey had rented an apartment on 39th street in Philly, very near the University and on a major bus line.  It was such a new world!  We took a bus downtown to Gimbel's dept store to buy a stroller.  Used the stroller to walk several blocks to the washateria and later to walk all the way to the zoo.  Sadly, zoos in both Milwaukee and Houston had been free, so the 75 cent admission meant we didn't have enough money to go in.

By the end of August we found out that our apartment was U of Penn housing and we would have to leave.  Lindsey was Chaplain's Yeoman aboard the Galveston.  Chaplain was Samuel R. Hardman.  Sam arranged to bring his son's car up from Virginia for us to use in our search for a new home.  We never did find anything and so we packed everything we owned into the trunk and backseat of the 1951 Ford and headed off to Virginia Beach to camp out with the Hardmans, Trudy and the three boys.

On September 12, 1960, we encountered Hurricane Donna in Washington DC.  We parked in the Marriott Hotel parking lot while it blew across the city. It was just us, our earthly belongings and our 2 1/2 month old baby girl.  I looked it up, Donna was the only hurricane to touch every state on the Atlantic with hurricane force winds, quite a storm.

So we finally got to Virginia Beach but we didn't find Trudy and the boys.  They had evacuated the flooding there and were staying with Navy friends in Norfolk.  It was eventually sorted out.  Lindsey went back to the ship and Laura and I found a great little tourist court cabin/home in Little Creek, VA.  We had a view right out to the ships leaving the Chesapeake Bay and heading out to sea.  We made friends and spent a lot of time with Trudy and the boys, Robbie, Joe and Alfie.  Trudy's older son was already away at school.  Great family and so generous and kind to us.

My most memorable Laura moment of those months in Virginia:  I awoke one morning to the sound of her shaking her crib side.  She was four months old.  I turned my head and opened my eyes to see her standing up, yes, standing up smiling at me and having a blast.  I, however, new mother who'd heard you mustn't let babies stand because their little knees couldn't take it, jumped up and put her back down in her bed.  She didn't try that trick again for a couple of months.

Talk about learning curves!  Every few days brought another.  Fortunately Chaplain Sam was free to do supply preaching and one of his spots was a beautiful old little Episcopal Church on the Eastern Shore.  Their only music was provided by an elderly violinist and he was wonderful.  We chose that church for Laura's baptism, Sam officiated and he and Trudy were her godparents.  Somewhere there are pictures of the event.  It was special.

However, by December the orders had come for the Galveston to head to the Caribbean and we thought it was time for Laura and me to head out as well.  My folks had kindly offered to have us there in Wauwatosa and so we were on the road again, in mid December, in a snowstorm, with a Wisconsin bound shipmate of Lindsey's to help with the driving.  

Laura and I lived with my family, Mom, Dad, Mary and Royce, until the next fall.  Currie was born in Milwaukee in August of 1961 and we rejoined Lindsey back in the East, Woodbury, New Jersey, for the remainder of his Naval duty.

Here's a shot of Laura and me, in Milwaukee.  Happy Birthday Laura!

The time has come

to hie myself out in to the searching for work place.  My year at Schlumberger has been most interesting.  I made good friends, learned a little about the wireline, logging, etc. part of the oil business.  However another division of the company is moving in here and their Admin person will be getting my chair and desk.
It makes sense since I have not been a Schlumberger employee this year but rather a temporary part time person hired by their staffing service.  I'm going to miss it all, the part I get and the parts I don't get.  I'm really going to miss the money.  If you play your cards right $8.50 an hour can keep the wolf from the door.  Not, however, the Wolf Spider, but I digress.

So, I've relocated my dwelling place to little Edom, Texas, population 375.  I'm almost out of work.  The plans I had to buy a little house and have a little house payment went by the wayside.  I was not thrilled with the expertise and information provided to me by realtors and mortgators.  Subsequently, not getting a house because I couldn't afford the several thousand dollars it would have taken to bring it up to financiers requirements has left me over $500 poorer. (Like I needed to be poorer) And, as I suspected, renting a little house even in a little town costs more which means I must hurry and find another "supplemental" job.  The good news is I know more people and have fairly positive recommendations to use.

The highlights of my life here have been the times I get to spend with my youngest grandchildren who have been very gracious about including me in their lives.  They are also moving to a new house, a new school and to having a Mommy with only one outside job instead of two.  Kathy has resigned her teaching position at All Saints and will be managing her store, Clothes Mentor, full time.  Kallie and Kyndall both seem to love my new digs and the surroundings which include our favorite garden store, Blue Moon Gardens, the great children's library in Ben Wheeler, where five free books are offered to every kid, and some mighty delicious local eateries.  Within about seven miles we have three foodie hot spots.  And when those get old Tyler is less than twenty miles away.

While I am not at all sure this move to Tyler was in everyone's best interests it is now almost two years old and we just need to get a handle on it and move on.  A great blessing is the wonderful church home I've found at Christ Church.  It is a building filled with welcome, kindness, intelligence and fabulous music.

The good news about my new house is a guest room and lots of great scenery.  I'm still struggling with the kitchen situation but I'm sure it will become resolved.

If you find yourself in this part of Texas, Deep East Texas, come on by.

Facing again the specter of unemployment.

It hasn't happened but I tend to worry ahead.  Seems the huge multinational corporation that has employed me in a temporary part time position for the past several months is taking a hard look at budgetary concerns and my massive hourly cost may be more than they can sustain.

If this is the case I am heartbroken on so many levels.  First, of course, is the loss of what seems to me to be absolutely necessary income to supplement that lovely check I get from myself (and the government) on the second Wednesday of every month.  Secondly is the honest to goodness fact that I love this little job, that I can do, with people whom I like and who seem to like me back, interesting people with much to teach and share.  Third is the flaming ass nightmare of trying to find a job in this town, at this age.  I've been there and it was hell.

On-line may be a swell way to do a lot of things, but if your birth year is 1940 its the worst possible way to apply for jobs.  They see the year and they picture the least able 70-something they know and you are painted with that brush.

I understand very clearly that I am not the good little, bright little worker that I was twenty or more years ago.  I am, however, still most able.  I can and do speak in complete sentences, follow instructions, know how to ask for help with things I do not understand, appear on time each work day and complete the day and its tasks.  I am pleasant (mostly) and well spoken.  I can operate many office machines without crashes and fire.  I can climb ladders, install new cartridges, send and receive faxes, texts, calls and messages.  I am generally presentable with few bad hair days since I went to the short stuff.  My vision and hearing are completely within the normal range and my driving skills are hampered only by a slightly leaded right foot.

So, now the question becomes, do I stay or do I go.  Do I slog through another several months (if I'm very frugal, I can probably make four in these circumstances), hunting high and low for someone to take a chance on me.  Do I move away, to somewhere smaller, with smaller costs, with fewer bells and whistles (ie. satellite, internet, central heat and air, guest room)?

Somehow I guess I expected some of these questions to be past the asking stage.  This is not my Mother's old age.  She was healthy and employed well into her eighties, managed her sparse income so carefully that she left us money to help take care of Royce and never even went to a hospital until pneumonia snuck up on her at 88, by which time she allowed as how she was tired and ready to go.

Obviously that's not the way its going to be for me.  I have loved being here in Tyler, close to my youngest grandkids and with extended family nearby.  I have a wonderful church, Christ Church, that has made me feel so welcomed and loved and educated and prayed for and with.  This is a beautiful part of this wacky state, gorgeous flora, hills and valleys, lakes and rivers, great little towns and spots to see.

But the ugly fact remains that I cannot afford to live here without some employment and lordy but I dread throwing myself back into that battle.

Suggestions?

Commune or not to commune

When folks (hippies and such) were heading off to communal lifestyles, either religious or experimental in nature, I was busy working and raising four kids, mostly single-handedly.  The thought of living with even more humans than I already did, did not appeal to me.  In a lot of ways it still doesn't.

However, when you find yourself located in a place where very few people share your beliefs or outlook or politics, the idea of moving somewhere where people do doesn't sound so bad after all.

If you know me, you're laughing at the thought that I could dwell communally with anybody.  Both my husbands and all my children couldn't wait to get away, most of them did visit occasionally, even the husbands.  In fact, when down on his luck, the first one moved in for a couple of months and everybody knows that for many years PW came over on Saturdays to do his laundry and take us all out to eat.

The downside of this plan is that those places I'd hanker to camp out at seem to be a very long way and in very opposite directions from the family that I care about and want to see when they're willing.

So, I'm probably not heading off.  It just sounds like it would be a pleasant way to while away the remaining years.  Oh, and I can't afford it anyway.  One of the coolest things about not living any more must be not worrying about finances.

How's this for a happy holiday blog?  Well, if you know me (or knew my equally dour Dad) you know that while the Christ part of Christmas brings me incredible joy and hope ... the Merry part often eludes me all together.  I believe it does have something to do with lack of sunshine, long nights and cold weather.

I pretty much feel that way about New Year's Eve too.  Good thing I have a fancy schmancy dressy party weekend coming up.  You know, something else to shop for :)

Bah what?

Insignificant Bucket List

First, I am equally aware and grateful that my many years in radio and advertising allowed me to experience shows, travel and events far beyond my pay grade.  Even my kids knew it was not normal to get to go to every circus, every ice show, multiple rodeo performances, movie premieres and theatre performances.  Most of them even got trips to Europe.

Second, I did an extremely unsatisfactory job with a Major Bucket List!  What a mess.

Third, the places you can and do want to go change along with the rest of growing old.

However, sometimes I see a story, an ad, a post from a busy friend, that piques my interest.  Today it happened to be a FB post/ad for Cirque du Soleil.  I've never seen a Cirque performance and I do think I'd enjoy it.  They probably bring their tent show to Dallas.  I know the price is crazy but maybe a grand girl and I could get to one.  So, the list begins.

There are half a dozen good old country singers I'd love to hear one more time.  Glad I got to see Ray Price at Flores Store some years back.  Right now I have Pandora radio stations for both Gene Watson and Moe Bandy.  You'd think they'd show up around here sometime.  (I would prefer they be close enough to drive home from, the Woodlands is not.)  Don Williams is actually appearing in Tyler soon but $50 seems a lot to watch him sit on a stool and sing his hits ... even tho' I love his hits.

One more trip to NYC and Broadway shows will still be on my list when I am toast.  And I don't think I've quite given up on the two parts of the US I've missed, Big Sky Country and New England.  It is much harder to travel when you're old and poor!  Oh, and I really want one more view of my friends and mountains in NM and AZ.  I am determined to get to Fairhope in March for Jaca's first round as chair of the Arts & Crafts.  It is a wonderful event.

So the mini-bucket list is underway.  I know, I should go write them down so I don't forget what I'm saving up for.  Thank goodness I have a job that makes some of this possible.  It won't always be the case.

Having another visit with dear family and friends around the country is included too; maybe one more reunion in Clark Lake, MI with the Stephenson clan.  Can you believe my Dad's younger sister is still alive and kicking, and traveling from Florida back to Michigan with some regularity?

Wonder what else I'll want to do.  What's on your list?