As my dear wife, Carrie, trotted upstairs as I declared I was going to work on post #7 of this series she said, “Write something funny.”

My brain went into overload.  So many good times and funny things came to mind.  I am fortunate and blessed that I have that.  But when I sit here and try to conjure up the words to bring these moments together it seems rather difficult.

When I first thought about Day 7 in this series I naturally thought about 7…as in 7 points…a touchdown and an extra point.  When I was in the 4th grade I won a competition among all 4th graders at Brownstown Central Elementary School and it was called “Shoot to the Moon”…maybe because we had, in 1977,  just seen out first pictures of something called a “Space Shuttle” piggybacked on top of a Boeing 747 in Weekly Reader.  That is a true story.  Anyway, I won the contest.  It was a combination of time and accuracy.  50 simple multiplication problems on a single page…who can get them done first with accuracy?  It was Mrs. Lahrman’s 4th grade math class.  I can only tell you that I attribute my multiplication dexterity back in the day, as I was never a great math student, to being able to put together football scores.  2pt conversion.  3 pt field goal.  6 pt touchdown.  7 pts touchdown and extra point.  8 pts touchdown and 2 pt. conversion.  Down by ten?  Need a field goal and TD and extra point to tie.  6 touchdowns and 6 extra points later?  42 points of course.  It was a football scoreboard that has allowed me to this day put that mental math in place.  But that’s not funny.

Yesterday I was talking to my sister, Lynn, about some of the shenanigans I use to pull when I worked at the now CLOSED Sears store in Clarksville.  Store 2160.  I was employee number 119644.  I had a time card and punched in and punched out when I started working there in 1987.  I had just turned nineteen.  A few years later the time cards were replaced with “swipe” cards…electronics and the modern way had found us.  I can tell you I am glad I caught the tail end of the old time card days and the “CLUNK” sound the clock made when one clocked in and out.

Thirty years ago I worked on the dock at Sears at the Greentree Mall.  It was hard work.  A trailer would come in and my boss Ed Caldemeier would open the trailer and almost get hit by garage door opener falling down.  Ed could cuss in complete sentences and was one of the finest men I have ever known.  He respected the work we did on that dock.  Because of that, we worked our butts off for him.

One day, when I knew that the ONLY manager on duty was a friend of mine, I pulled a joke on one of my co-workers.  His name was Guy.  He was much older than I was.  He had worked at the old Sears store on 8th and Broadway in Louisville and many of those folks transferred to the Clarksville store when it opened.  I can remember many of those folks and I loved hearing them tell their old 8th and Broadway stories.  I know where their store was located and every time I drive by there I can hear their voices.

The day I pulled the joke I was only interested in Guy’s voice.  I knew the only manager there was a friend of mine.  I knew I could pull this off and not get too much heat.

I was on the dock and we had a phone on the wall next to the swinging doors that led to where we would unload trucks.  I have never been afraid of a phone.  When it was time to make a page out on the sales floor to get a manager’s attention, I was voted to be the big mouth to do it.

One day  I picked that phone up and dialed the STORE WIDE page.  Sales floor, stock room, break room, bath room, everyone listening as I punched in the store page number…and looked at Guy.  “Guy, it’s for you!” I yelled, knowing whatever he was going to say would be heard by half of Clarksville.

“Hello?”  Guy heard nothing.

Again, “Hello?”  Guy heard nothing.

He pulled the receiver away and looked at it and yelled, “Well who is this?”

The whole store busted out laughing.  I let Guy in on the joke and he told me it was a good one…that I had him.  Thank God he was a good sport.  I haven’t seen Guy in twenty five years or better.  He was a good man.

All of this reminded me of another funny…and it will have to wait.

Cos I got 43 more of days of this assignment to…

Speak the Rights.

Danny Johnson

Forever intrigued with the Flowering of New England literature of the mid-1800s and that great chasm of misunderstanding and stance between the transcendentalist  and anti-transcendentalist, I think a visit to those literary stomping grounds gave me the impetus to begin this writing endeavor known as speaktherights.com.

I have written here before about the influence Dr. Millard Dunn, my favorite English professor, was on my writing life and my music life.  I thought of Millard when I visited Walden Pond in 2011 and Herman Melville’s home, Arrowhead, in Pittsfield, Mass last year.  I studied the work of Melville and Henry David Thoreau in earnest when I was in Dr. Dunn classes. Many of those days and actual class meetings are still so clear in my mind.  It is special.

My dear wife, Carrie, and I first went to New England in 2011.  We went there to see friends, Bob and Michelle in New Hampshire, over our fall break.  Bob and his son, Davis, and I went to see the UNH Wildcats play the Rhode Island Rams at a UNH home game.  It was great.

The next morning there were 18 inches of snow on the ground.  A good old fashioned Nor’easter  came through.  It was something.

In 2014, Carrie and I went to The Berkshires in western Mass.  We loved the place.  We have been back every year since and plan to return for a fifth year in a row in late June.  Not far from Hancock, Mass, where we stay, is Pittsfield where Herman Melville wrote Moby DIck and lived for a number of years.

Here I am doing my best George Plimpton imitation outside the Pittsfield Athenaeum…a fancy name for a library.

Melville’s house.

The barn where Herman Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne chewed the fat.  I was in awe.

Not to short Thoreau, of course, this is Walden pond which is also on the header of speaktherights.com right now.

When Carrie and I came home in 2014 from our Northeast visit, I had writing ants in my pants.  In July of that year I began speaktherights.com.  This is the 400th entry on this site. It is hard for me to believe.  In the fall of 2014 I wrote extensively about my Granny’s illness and eventual passing.  It was cathartic for me.  It is nice to have to look back on, as well as so many other days and times and hopes, wishes and dreams.

So here is the first post…

Oh, and Happy 50th Birthday to my dear friend Kelly “Samonhead” Samons.

I am on my way to join you as I…speak the rights along the way!

Danny Johnson

A few minutes ago my dear wife, Carrie, and I pulled in the driveway.  It was a quick drive from Seymour.  Our friend Steve Hanger was with us.  When Steve and I get together time flies faster than our stories.

Tonight at the Lloyd E. Scott Gymnasium in Seymour, the Lady Cats of North Harrison High School were defeated by the Bedford North Lawrence Lady Stars 47-39.

God Bless the fans from North Harrison.  They showed up in GREAT numbers given a 6 o’clock tip-off in Seymour some 60 miles from Ramsey.  I was so proud of all our folks.  I was especially proud of the Lady Cats.

The Lady Cats fought hard to the very end.

Much has been made of the Lady Cats being moved up in class from 3A to 4A just because they made appearances in the last two 3A State Final games but did not win either one.  I have made noise about it.

Look, I just speak the rights.  No need to stop now.  The three officials doing tonight’s game wanted to be more of the story than the ten girls on the floor.  They seemed like they were not there for the right reasons.  I have NEVER called out refs before.  These guys were beyond terrible.  They were showy and demonstrative when they relayed calls to the scorer’s table.  One guy out there looked like he was auditioning for the part.  It was sad.  It was sad because I know the NH team worked so hard to get there.

This is not to say that a few more free throws in the hole for North and a few less in the hole for BNL would not have made a difference.  Sure it would have.  But I had a great sense that country mouse was not welcomed in city mouse’s gym…on many levels.  And that is a shame.

The IHSAA got it wrong again when they moved NHHS to 4A in girls basketball.  I say again referencing to a football snafu after a storm ten years ago that cancelled a football game that never got played.  But that is ancient history.

What won’t be ancient history is the run the NHHS Lady Cats have been on the last three years.  The ball will keep bouncing and the Lady Cats will keep rolling.

I am proud of all of them.

Speaking the Rights…

Danny Johnson

The Lloyd E. Scott Gymnasium in Seymour, Indiana is where my dear wife, Carrie, and I will be tomorrow night.  For me it will be like going back to the future as I write this series.

First, this gym is the third largest high school gym in America.  8,110 is the official capacity the last time I checked.  I don’t think it has changed.

Tomorrow night the Lady Cats of North Harrison make their ascent into 4A Sectional territory thanks to some asinine rules made up by someone stuck cultivating a vineyard of sour grapes.  Okay, I’m done with that.  I won’t bring it up again.

The home of the Seymour Owls is where I went to the old single class sectional when I lived ten miles from Seymour in Brownstown.  I think the last Seymour Sectional I went to was in 1978 and I was ten.  No, I take that back, when I was a senior in high school I went up with Marc Gayheart, a buddy of mine, and we watched  friends from Brownstown Central play Bedford North Lawrence in March of 1986.  That was fun too.  It was good to be back.  But not nearly as good as it will be tomorrow night.  There is a pattern here…the Lady Cats are playing Bedford North Lawrence. It should be a good one.

The old timer in me comes out now.  When I went up to purchase my sectional tickets for this year, I was handed this:

Your old Uncle Dan can remember having a glossy sheet of perforated tickets each with a different date and the section and seat number you were assigned to during the Seymour Sectional.  It was as large as the gym was.  Aside from the Jackson County Fair, the Seymour Sectional, filled with local teams in the age of single class basketball, was the social event of the year.  It really was something.

But guess what?  The high school full of kids at North Harrison don’t want to hear that and I doubt if anyone else wants to either.  They are all making their own memories. That is what is most important.  And I am with them!  Go Big Blue!  You can do it.  I just know that I have a point of reference and a memory lane that is very very unique.  I have been blessed again and again.

The Lady Cats, in the last three years, have won 76 games and lost only 8.  Two of those defeats were in state championship games.  They know what they are doing.   It’s called hard work and dedication and coaching and trusting each other and finding the open lane.  I know I have a reputation of being a football guy.  Though I don’t get there often enough these days, I still love a hot gym on a cold Hoosier night.  This is going to be fun.

So I raise a glass to the senior Lady Cats:  Shelby, Cali, Emma, Taylor, Hallie, and Jessicka.  Go make a few more good memories…win or…close win.

Speaking the rights…

I was going to cheat and write another one tonight…but I am going to wait and write one when I get home from Seymour tomorrow night.

Danny Johnson

My brother-in-law, Stevarino, asked a question.

“You’re not gonna write one of those things a day for 50 days in a row are you?”

He then made a statement.

“You can’t think of that much “stuff” to write about.

I told him I certainly plan on writing 50 of them and that I can think of that much “stuff” to write about.

I taught English for a very long time.  One of the things I enjoyed the most about doing so was helping kids become better writers.  I tried to help them make the “writing process” work for them.  I never liked that term “writing process”.  It’s a process alright.  As soon as you bring that phrase into a classroom of teenagers that don’t want to to write and tell them it is a “process” you will start to loose many of them just due the connotation they have of that very term.  “Writing process” indeed.

I just like to write.  It is not a difficult endeavor for me.  I count myself fortunate in that regard.  There have been some speakthrights.com lapses now and again.  And it was nice to get an email or text and have someone check up on me because they hadn’t “heard” from me in a while via this writing vehicle I put a key in July of 2014.  So thanks to those reading with any consistency.  I am going to do it anyway.

There is always something to write about.  I could go on for many paragraphs right now about how delighted I am that my Dad is feeling so much better.  I like to write about traveling and sports and music, oh how I do enjoy my music.

And I have to throw a picture in every now and again for good measure.  Me, I like pictures of the beach that Carrie and I frequent as often as we can.  There is something there that pulls us to that spot on this planet of ours.  I mean, I have been many places and maybe some are brighter and shinier.  Some may have much better restaurants.  Other places have views that are much more spectacular.

Carrie loves taking pictures of the sunrise too.

I suppose this place in North Carolina we go back to is like a music group I want to listen to play over and over again.  As I type this I am listening to a live Moody Blues recording from 1997.  I have not heard it before.  I am inspired as I type.  I am reminded of so many things and so many people as I listen and appreciate the way this music makes me feel and has for so long.  It is the music of my youth and it ain’t going anywhere!  It is what I do.

Just like readers are drawn to particular authors and characters and settings and genres of verse, our lives are like that too.  That is what I always told my students.  There are folks you know that you gravitate to just because it feels right.  We don’t create friendships based on differences…but we can still recognize and sometimes celebrate our differences and get to know each other even better. Characters we enjoy in stories are often characters who remind us of who we are or who we want to be more like.  Our friends are folks that remind us of us.  We love art we can relate to.

Some music buddies.

Some dear old friends…but I am the youngest.  Put these three in a room together and there is something good that happens.  It is a great mystery that I cherish I can tell you.

Put these four in Memorial Stadium for an IU Football game and the football IQ inside the place improves greatly.

Put these four on a golf course and you’ll be able to laugh at something.

Put these two together on that North Carolina shore.

Looks like a nice setting.

Speaking the “writes”…

Danny Johnson

Not what I had in mind.  The day has flown by and I am doing my duty here at nearly 9 PM.  I am tired.   But I am very thankful.

I am sitting here listening to a CD of Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits.  As a kid I bought the 2 LP set.  That was 1978.  If you can pinpoint an anomaly in my existence, it is that I knew Barry Manilow’s catalog inside and out when I was ten years old.  I was drawn to his voice and I was drawn to an emotion that I could relate to at a very young age.  It was all about being in tune with music, I suppose.  I have always been there.  The difference is it took a tragedy and a case of depression before I picked up a guitar and found a world I knew existed but had not explored.  That was twenty years ago.  Time flies.

I don’t tire of listening to Barry Manilow, even to this day.  Albeit I do listen to him when no one is around.  A guilty pleasure I suppose.  Typing these words is as close as I have ever come to say, “Hey you gotta hear this Barry Manilow tune!”

I don’t mind.  I am not ashamed.  It has worked out so far.  And I when I hear some of these songs I am reminded of spinning them on a mono record player on 204 South Jackson Street in Brownstown as the ten year old kid.  When I hear the opening strains of “Weekend in New England” I am a kid again.  When my dear wife, Carrie, and I went to see the “long rocky beaches” in Rye, New Hampshire and up into Maine in 2011, I knew I had found a piece of my youth I had been looking for.  The lobster roll in Rye was great, by the way.

What prompted me to put in Barry Manilow?  He was sitting on the desk.  Nothing more than that.  I had a Gregg Allman CD playing and I was not feeling it.  Where else are going to find that?  Gregg Allman out and Barry Manilow in?  You won’t.

That has been my musical life.  I have been in a room by myself most of my life when it comes to music.  The Moody Blues?  My pals weren’t about them.  Thankfully my dear wife, Carrie, developed an appreciation for The Moodies beyond me dragging her to the next concert.  She KNOWS how exceptional The Moody Blues are.  We have seen The Moody Blues 29 times together and have seen three Justin Hayward solo shows.  That is hearing “Nights in White Satin” 32 times.  Doesn’t get any better.

No.  I never saw Barry Manilow.  My Mom and Dad did in December of 1987.  I got them tickets to see Manilow at the Louisville Gardens that year.  They dropped off my little brother, Darrell, at the apartment I was living at in Clarksville near the Green Tree Mall at the time.  Darrell, he was 4 then, and I made pizzas.  It was great fun.  The best part was when Mom and Dad showed up after the show to pick Darrell up.  They had such a great time.  They both had silly good looks on their faces.  That is priceless.

So too is priceless is the look my Dad had on his face today.  After church today, Carrie and I went by the rehab facility where Dad is following his 2nd hip surgery.  Dad looks great!  He spoke of getting back on the golf course again.  The pain that had riddled his face for a long time is now gone.  Thanks be to God.  I could not be happier.  I know my Mom is delighted too.  So is the rest of the family.  Dad has an optimism that he has not realized in a long time.  He needs it.  He deserves it.  He is one of the good guys.

And so it goes.  We will press onward, no matter what kind of music we listen to.  Right now, Barry Manilow is putting a smile on my face.  He has done that for a long time.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Carrie, Me, Nancy and Kelly Samons last October.  Kelly turns 50 on February 2nd.

I will be fifty years old in 50 days.  Though the date of this post will be January 28th, know that it is January 27th in the evening and in 50 days I will be fifty.  Ironically enough, on the day I begin this assignment, my sister, Lynn, has a birthday TODAY.  She is two years older than I am.  Want to remember her age?  Here’s a trick…same age as the Super Bowl.  Super Bowl LII is  on the way.

Dink, light bulb over the head.  That is what happened today as I thought of making this a possibility.  And here we are.  With the first installment of 50 years in 50 days.

We don’t have enough time tonight.  That is why I am beginning here.  We have fifty days.

Know that I am one of the most fortunate and blessed individuals you will ever meet.  I wish I knew why.  I thank God for my life and the lives of others whom have made exceptional impact on who I am and what I believe and why.

When I stop on rare occasion to look at the catalog of photos I have shared here over the last four years, I am wide-eyed at all of the places I have been and people I have known and things that I have done.  It is mind-boggling.  And then, it is really not.

Press onward.  That has been a mantra in the lexicon.

We are not here to have a bad time.  That is another in the belief system.

There is always a better tomorrow out there.  I believe that too.

But I have, on occasion over the decades, gotten very frustrated with myself.  I’m not put off by others the way I am sometimes put off by me.  I wish I could explain it.  I can’t explain because I don’t even understand it myself.  I have never been averse to money…but I have never chased it either.  The simple questions long before I had very gainful employment were do my loved ones have their needs met and do I have enough geat to make the next Moody Blues concert?  I’ve got news for you, if ticket prices were then what they are today, I would have missed a few of those early Moodies shows for sure.

I can make jokes about this.  But, I just know it is never enough.  That is my “Perfect Flaw” as Tim Krekel sang.  There is always another photo to take that is better.  There is always an idea that will help kids that is better.  There is always a song I can write that means more.  There is always a better post I can write here that means something to someone other than the one sitting here yammering.  It has to get better, I tell myself.  There are times I wish I could enjoy things more.

That comes around now and again when someone says something to me about a song that  they heard from me and they tell me why it was important or that they want to sing it. Or…something like that.  Truth be told, I probably don’t listen as well as I should to some of the nice things folks do say.  I have already moved on and that may be wrong.

In 2006 I wrote a piece about the 1980 Olympic Hockey team winning the gold over the vaunted Russians.  Their team picture is on display in my office.  That is the greatest sports team the world has ever known.  The piece I wrote ran in The Corydon Democrat, a great local weekly.  A few days after it ran, Chris Martin, a guy a couple years younger than me I went to high school with, called me to tell me he enjoyed it.  I was glad someone got it.  Chris and I work in the same building now.  We have never relived this conversation. There is no need.   I appreciate Chris.  Folks, I walk by his classroom and I want to walk in and take a seat in the back row just to soak in the Social Studies I have been missing and the current events speaks that are alive and well in his classroom.  But…I am too busy to do that.  At least I was last week.  You never know.

What I do know is that I am blessed to be married to my dear wife, Carrie, and that she is my best friend.  I don’t know how she does it.  I am glad she does.

I have been asked if turning fifty is problematic to me.  My feet and back argue with me, but aside from that, I don’t know what turning fifty means…other than it is a good way to spend some time…

Speaking the Rights!

Danny Johnson

I just got off the phone with my Dad.  He had hip replacement surgery today #2. The first one was last September.

I am dumb-founded that I did not get to see him today.  Very very frustrated.  Problem is I was at the doctor yesterday myself and a hospital is not where I need to be close to today.  Gads.  I was at home today.  It was a long day, I can tell you.  Fortunately I too am gaining ground.  I plan on being at school tomorrow.

Earlier this afternoon I had a phone call about some school business.  I told the person I talked to, as I chuckled, that it was the first time I had thought about laughing in over 24 hours.  If that is the case, I know I am ripe.

Dad sounded great.  He is already talking about getting home and getting back to the YMCA to work out now that he doesn’t sound and feel like a bowl of Rice Krispies getting hit with milk.  Snap.  Crackle. And Pop.  I hope he doesn’t hear that when I get off the couch.  Cos I can hear it.  Oh well.

Hearty thanks to all out there who said a prayer for my Dad.  I know they came from far and wide.  I was in touch with a few of those folks today.  I could not be more thankful and fortunate.

I have not mentioned it, but I did get the Alabama win over Georgia correct.  I picked this game with the rest of the bowl games before they started on December 16th.  It went something like this…

Rose Bowl Playoff Semifinal: Georgia beats Oklahoma…not a Big Ten or Pac 12 team in sight.  Tragedy.

Sugar Bowl Playoff Semifinal:  Alabama beats Clemson…Tide Rolls.

CFP Champs:  Alabama beats UGA.  The Master outlasts the pupil.

First time I have ever been right!  Well, maybe not…but that was exactly what happened, wasn’t it?

This past week I was asked if I would get around to seeing The Moody Blues again.  So many will laugh when I say no.  But, uh, the answer is no.  What if they show up at The Louisville Palace?  Call me crazy.  I won’t go.  (I hear laughter).

It’s like this…  Last July I took my sister, her first Moodies concert in Dayton (her kids have seen them), and my dear wife, Carrie, and I went to see them three weeks later at The Ryman Auditorium in Nashville.  Both nights they played the album Days of Future Passed in its entirety.  Carrie and I walked out of the iconic Ryman on cloud 9 and a half.  It was an awesome show and we have seen a few clunkers…but they have been rare.  We just saw the 50th anniversary performance of Days of Future Passed at The Ryman.  There is now a Hatch Show Print in our living room to remind us.  What better way to end it?

The Moody Blues are heading for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in April and that is that.  I have been asked if I am going.  My Dad figured it was a done deal when he found out.  No.  I found Days of Future Passed by providence in 1983 the day I turned 15.  I will be 50 in March.  Is that a temptation?  To see the Moodies in my teens, 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s?  You would think it would be.  But you probably weren’t at The Ryman on July 22, 2017.

The Moodies don’t have any concerts publicized past this month.  They usually advertise months ahead of time.

Now, if Justin Hayward, the lead singer, goes on tour, I would go see him again in a solo show in heart beat.  That is a different animal all together.

So be it.

Thanks again to all who have kept my Dad in your heart today.  He is one of the good guys.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Well, I am staving off the flu.  Yesterday I felt it coming on big time.  Carrie and I went to work and caught up on a few things.  While I was in my office, I went downhill in a hurry.  We dropped off some baked goods at church and came home instead of helping out.

I can report that I feel much better than I did yesterday at this time.  A few hours ago Carrie got a text.  It was from a friend of ours I drove to Salem with for a meeting Friday afternoon.  She was hoping I did not have the flu, as she found out she has it.  Oh well, what can you do?  Hope to heck the flu shot works.

The Jacksonville Jaguars just took a 17-10 lead over the evil empire, the New England Patriots.  I hope the Jags can hold on.  Then later I hope the Vikings beat the Eagles in Philly.  Jags vs. Vikes  in Super Bowl 52 would be sweet.  My brother would disagree with me.  He roots for the Eagles.

Football 1 Politics 0

Have you been following the political gridlock going on in Washington?  I have watched a great deal of it.  Seems to me there is a lack of urgency  in the demeanor of many blaming the other side and not getting anything done other than seemingly enjoying the blame placed on the other side.  I have said it before and I will say it again.  Leadership is at a premium.  Don’t look for it in Washington these days.  Love of country is part of it.  Teamwork.  The greater good and all that…you know, the stuff most of us, even folks we don’t agree with all the time think to be naturally important.  God helps us.  Are we going to have three more years of this gridlock hogwash?

The country asked for it.  The country deserves better.

I was hoping to be watching the games over at my folks’ house today.  That is tradition.  My feeling like I am warding off the flu is not tradition.  My Dad going in this week for a second hip replacement surgery is not tradition.  So I say…crap.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

This photo represents where I have started my weekdays for nearly twenty years now and I have the guy in the photo, Robert Becker, to thank.

I have forever had a love affair with radio.  No, I did not grow up with an aspiration for a career in radio.  Don’t mistaken that.  I just have been fascinated with the mechanism itself.  When I was a kid I could hold something in my hand, place a chord in it and on the other end of the chord was an singular ear piece. I placed it in my right ear always.  I was right-handed and figured I must be right-eared.  In my right ear in 1975 I heard a guy on 890 WLS in Chicago playing Barry Manilow’s “I Write the Songs”.  I was seven years old under the covers in my bedroom in Brownstown, Indiana listening to a guy spinning records in Chicago!  That is a distinct and precious radio memory.

Radio put its first spell on me a year earlier in 1974.  I grew up appreciating and singing the songs I learned at the Brownstown Baptist Church.  I still hold dear to many of those old songs and either sing them or hum them to myself from time to time when the Spirit moves to do so.  My first foray into music outside the church came to me by way of a scratchy AM radio signal reverberating through the multiple ceiling speakers of Stanley Steinkamp’s Brownstown Central School Bus #1.

The station blaring its way to a bus full of school aged children was 790 WAKY.  Wacky.  The morning Disc Jockey was The Duke of Louisville, Bill Bailey.  If there was ever a voice made courtesy of nicotine, it belonged to Bill Bailey.  In between the raspy -voiced bits of Bailey and his time of day updates….”It’s 7:49, eleven minutes before eight o’clock”….there were the songs that captured the ears, heart, and imagination of a little kid waiting on his next favorite radio song to find him.  It started with Billy Swan’s hit song “I Can Help”.  The Farfisa organ and the guitar lick grabbed me and hasn’t let go to this day.  I still stop and take it in when I hear it, thanks to radio on a school bus ride.

In addition to the sounds coming from Louisville, I have a soft spot for the more local flavor that I grew up listening to as well.  1390 WJCD in Seymour was on the old silver JC Penney radio that lived in our Brownstown home.  Bud Shippee gave the news as I recall.  The day the old Radio Shack store opened at the Jackson Park Shopping Center, I was interviewed by a guy doing a remote WJCD broadcast from there to promote the grand opening of the store.  I still remember old commercial jingles from this Seymour station.  The singers sang “Brown’s Grocery and Jay’s Market…”  and I remember the country twang of another ad…”Co-Op, Co-Op, count on Co-Op Quality!”

It was on 1010 WCSI out of Columbus that I listened to Casey Kasem doing the American Top 40 countdown.  From this station I also heard the continuing saga of a serial called “Chicken Man!”  And how could I forget Paul Harvey’s News and Commentary and his iconic The Rest of the Story.

Does anyone else out there remember the suspense of “Mystery Theater”?  The tales told by E.G Marshall on CBS Radio from 1974 to 1982 were legendary to me.

Also legendary were the sports broadcasters on radio that I enjoyed so much.  Monday Night Football may have had Howard, Frank, and Dandy Don on TV, but for a long time on radio it also had Jack Buck and Hank Stram.  I could listen to them call a cotillion.  Jack Buck with his straight-forward in-command tone and Hank Stram with his “sixty-five toss power trap” homespun delivery and one liners.

When I was doing football on radio I borrowed from three sources.  Mike Patrick, his intros were smooth as silk.  Keith Jackson could talk us into anything.  And Hank Stram once said about facing an opposing defense, “That’s like throwing popcorn at a battleship.”

Jack Buck and Hank Stram kept my right ear informed as I was dosing off on many a Monday night, only to discover my nine-volt was getting low the next morning.

Baseball?  Just let me say Marty Brennaman and Joe Nuxhall doing the Cincinnati Reds. An evening with my Dad in a lawn chair in the front yard listening to Marty and Joe was Norman Rockwell worthy.

In 1979, my family moved from Brownstown, Indiana fifty miles south to Harrison County, Indiana.  Local radio was not a thing one could easily grasp hold of here.  To this day the primary frequencies in Harrison County belong to stations claimed by the Louisville, Kentucky market.  That’s business for you.

My radio world languished for a while.  In 1982 all that changed.  I was back in the radio business and was glad to see the sun go down.  The sooner evening time would get here, the sooner I could find the signal to tune in to my new radio best friend and it was an old friend.  890 WLS known as “The Rock of Chicago”.  The top nine at nine may have been on at ten in my time zone, but you better believe I was there. And in the morning before school, I was locked into Larry Lujack and Tommy Edwards ready to listen to their bit called “Animal Stories” which is by far the funniest thing I have ever heard on radio.

Tommy Edwards was the public address announcer at the old Chicago Stadium and he was the one who began playing Alan Parsons’ tune “Sirius” while doing Chicago Bulls player introductions.

I raise a glass to my WLS heroes Larry Lujack, Tommy Edwards, Chuck Britton, John Landecker, Don Nelson, Fred Winston, Catherine Johns, and Les Grobstein with sports.

WLS went to a talk radio format in 1989.  I was dumbfounded.  Talk about the day the music died.  So long Animal Stories.  So long top nine at nine. At least I knew something about Chicago traffic now and one day it would come in handy.  I reached for a homemade Moody Blues cassette and listened to it over and over for a few years.  Then something happened for a good reason.

It was 1992.  My dear friend Jerry Brown was about to be married.  I was visiting him at his about to be newly minted business Celery Signs.  Jerry too likes music.  When he works there is always a tune playing in the background.  On this day in 1992 I had not been there twelve minutes when The Moody Blues’ song “The Story in Your Eyes” came flying through the room to help us all.

“What station is that, Brown?” I asked.

“A new rock and roll station in Seymour, 96.3”, he replied.

That was it.  That was all it took.  If there was a radio guy or gal out there with the good sense to play The Moody Blues, I was their fan.  Period.  They would have to do something really stupid to mess that up.  To this day,  it hasn’t happened.

With apologies to Ferris Bueller, Robert Becker you’re my radio hero!

For the next few years whenever I was within listening distance I was tuning in. If you get to Palmyra and are moving North up Highway 135, you have it made.  You have found radio freedom; you have found WJAA 96.3 and the man behind the curtain, Robert Becker.

In 1998 I took a job at Medora Schools and worked there until 2015 when I came back to North Harrison.  Every morning I drove up Highway 135 North back to Jackson County and thanks to Robert Becker it was smooth sailing all the way.  At 7 AM Robert Becker announces a welcome to one and all and gets folks “Ready to Rock”.  Morning time in Jackson County had officially arrived when I was listening to “Breakfast with Bob” as I hurtled toward Medora.

So what about this Robert guy?

Robert Becker wanted to start a radio station.  He found an available frequency to buy and that led him to Seymour, Indiana, that small town John Mellencamp sings about. In a location that is relatively close to Indianapolis, Louisville, and Cincinnati, the Chicago native found his radio station along I-65 and he has found a home.

Robert  grew up on the South Side of Chicago.   He went to high school at the prestigious Lab School.  He then went on to the University of Wisconsin and went to grad school at NYU.

One thing that can be said about Robert Becker is that he has ‘been around’.  Among the jobs he has had before settling in to be the King of South Central Indiana Classic Rock Radio were a carpenter, cab driver, building superintendent, screenwriter, and movie publicity writer.

Robert Becker appreciates classic rock and roll music.  Some of his favorite groups are The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and U2.  When asked about some of his favorite solo artists he gave me the names of Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Leonard Cohen, and Frank Sinatra.

Like many of us, Robert likes a great live music performance.  When asked about the best concerts he has seen he included Springsteen, the Stones, Leonard Cohen, U2, The Allman Brothers, Joshua Bell, Yo-Yo-Ma, and The Moody Blues.  What can I say?  The man knows!  And he has seen some shows at iconic venues like The Hollywood Bowl and Madison Square Garden and Mill Race Park.

Robert Becker has visited Rome, Paris, Africa, Myanmar, and he has lived in LA, New York City, San Francisco, Madison, Wisconsin, Chicago, and still he has found his calling…or at least his call letters…in Seymour, Indiana.  I am so glad he has done exactly that.

Look, Robert is important to Jackson County, Indiana.  In addition to spinning tunes for an old Moody Blues fan upon request, he provides a great combination of business and public service.  When I asked Robert what he wants to offer listeners he told me he wants his listeners to be entertained, more involved in their community, informed, and hopefully somewhat enlightened.  Nowhere here do you find a hint of ego.  Listen to Robert.  You’ll find that he is not in the game to utter off a grand supply of personal pronouns.  He wants the listener to have the great experience.

Seymour!  Do you know how fortunate you are?  I hope so.

Community involvement is important to Robert.  One way of doing this is firing up the Cool Bus.  Looks like the Cool Bus is cold today.

Robert takes to Cool Bus to so many businesses and civic events doing live remote broadcasting and being, well, a man of the people.  That is so rare these days.  I say it again, he wants you to have a good time.  Whether it is the Medora Goes Pink or Seymour’s Okctoberfest or Brownstown’s Hometown Christmas, you’ll find Robert Becker and the Cool Bus.

Part of having a good time with 96.3 WJAA beyond the music is the sports coverage the station offers.  Look, Robert is no fool.  He knew there was a quarter-mile dirt track in Brownstown ten miles from his radio station and in loud and clear listening range of the signal tower officially in Austin.  I lived a cornfield from this track on Jackson Street when I was a kid.  Robert knew a stock car racing mecca like Brownstown was perfect proximity to gain sponsors for NASCAR and an affiliation with MRN the Motor Racing Network.  Robert Becker did exactly that.  96.3 WJAA is your home for NASCAR racing and you better believe folks are tuning in.

Speaking of Sports…(how’s that for a segue, Plump?)

One of the greatest things on radio in 2018 is WJAA 96.3’s Speaking of Sports.  Around 7:45 every weekday morning, Robert, with the help of Jim Plump on Mondays and Fridays, will fill you in on the sporting world.   This has always been special to me.  That house I lived in on Jackson Street in Brownstown was visited by Jim Plump while he was a sportswriter for The Seymour Tribune in the mid-1970s.  My Dad was the coach of the Brownstown Central Braves high school football team for most all of the 1970s and Jim Plump came to the house to interview Dad.  My point of reference is ancient and unique.

Robert Becker, being a baseball fan and knowing that his listener-ship would appreciate a daily dose of sports, elicited the expertise of Jim Plump to do a morning segment of sports on a regular basis.  Plump recently conveyed to me that he was not too hot on the prospects.  He had long given up his sports writing forte to become the chief economic developer of Jackson County.  What Jim Plump has meant to Jackson County is another great story.

In earnestness that I appreciate, Jim Plump told me that when he received his first tuition bill from his alma mater, the University of Evansville, for his son’s education, Plump called Robert Becker back and asked if remuneration was involved with his doing “Speaking of Sports” in the morning.  I guess there was.  Plump did it.  They debuted the day after Labor Day, 1994.

Jim Plump and Robert Becker did Speaking of Sports on a five day a week basis.  Give Plump credit.  He worked the phones and gave it all he had.  He knows darn well he could have showed up and did anything and would have still gotten paid.  Jim Plump took the Speaking of Sports assignment and ran with it.   My hat is off to him and Robert.  In that 5 days a week period, Jim tried to get a weekly guest on the phone for the show.  Yogi Berra was on.  Whitey Ford was on.  Fuzzy Zoeller was on.  Buddy Baker was on.  An old Brownstown grad, Todd Sturgeon was on.  Heck, one day I was on. In 2006 I was calling high school football games on WKLO 96.9.  I was doing North Harrison High School  games and that week we were to come up to Brownstown for a game that was going to go a long way in deciding the Mid-Southern Conference that year.  The build up for the game was HUGE.  So was the storm that hit right before the game.  It was so big it sent us all home without playing a game.

Plump had to whittle his schedule down in the early 2000s and they went to a Monday and Friday format.  It enabled Jim and Robert to preview the weekend and then come back on Monday and review it.  This works out very nicely.  Personally, I love it when Plump gives Becker the business about not knowing something about sports or not paying attention (the last thing Plump needs to ask…and he asks it anyway is “What do you think about that…), or butchering up a guy’s name.  I love Robert…but I gotta tell you the all time great in my book.  Robert and Jim were talking about golf and Robert started asking about a golfer named Davis Love, Jr III…as in Davis Love Junior the Third….I thought I was going to run off the road that day.

Thankfully they are still at it.  They are still Speaking of Sports. Robert is still rooting for the Cubs or the White Sox (if they are winning) or the Reds (if they are winning) or the Dodgers (if they are winning)….and Plump is still rooting EXCLUSIVELY for the Yankees come hell or high water, or jabs from Becker when the Yanks lose or overpay a free agent.  After all, it’s what the Yanks do.

What about the Braves?

Home of the Braves

When Robert Becker got to Seymour, and it was apparent he was there to stay, there was talk of putting Brownstown Central High School sports, they had no consistent radio coverage at the time, on 96.3 WJAA.  It worked out.

A few phone calls here and a discussion there with Robert and with the right folks involved and the realization that advertising dollars were to make it sustainable, your home of the Braves is now and has been since since about 1996 WJAA.

A peek into Harry Rochner’s BCHS Athletic Hall of Fame credentials tells he called football, boys and girls basketball beginning in 1996.  Harry and Mark Norman, both Brownstown Central grads, got the Braves moving in the right direction, East on Highway 50 to the 96.3 mixing board.

The result has been fantastic.  Robert Becker is very pleased with the “marriage”, as Mark Norman put it, with Braves Sports and 96.3 WJAA.  Becker likes the dependability of the announcers for sure.  He points out that the announcers calling Braves and Lady Braves games are not “ESPN wannabes”.  Knowing the folks in Brownstown as well as I do, I know they appreciate how this has worked out for them.  Mark Norman told me this has been a great thing for the community as well as a good thing for 96.3.  Mark and former Braves teammate from back in the day, Brian Sommers, have been doing Braves Basketball games together for the last fifteen years.  Mark said a trip to call a Braves state final game at Banker’s Life Field house in Indy, the home of the Pacers, was a memorable experience.

The stable of announcers Robert has enjoyed doing Braves games is just that…dependable and stable.  They are there to tell you what is happening and to enjoy the experience.  In turn, you too end up having a good time listening.  And folks listen from far and wide.

An old childhood friend of mine, Harv Brown, has been in the football booth for a number of years now.  He works with longtime Braves announcer Richard Berry on Friday nights.  When Harv and I were going back and forth about the long distance listeners it was amazing to sit and think about and speak of.  Last year’s starting quarterback had family in Nebraska tuning in.  Harry Rochner has a buddy in Oregon listening regularly.  At harvest time folks listen to the Braves while they are bringing in the crops.  There is a large contingent listening in at the Hoosier Christian Village nursing home.  Harv’s son Jake, a former Brave player and guest in the booth now and again, would find a classroom to study in and listen to the Braves while he was attending Butler University.  In November 2017 during the Braves semi-state tilt with Lawrenceburg, Harv and Richard gave a shout out to Pasadena, California where my Dad and I were listening before going to the USC-UCLA game the next day at The Rose Bowl.

Harry Rochner and Harv Brown doing a game in 2014.

They were kind enough to let me get in on the act that night.  With me is Braves legend Harry Rochner.  Harry and Greg Walker, superintendent of Brownstown Central Schools, do Lady Braves basketball these days.

MUSIC

At the end of the day, we all first huddled around a radio to listen to music to hear our favorite song…. to feel better when that tune came on.  We didn’t have phones then that could raise a tune in five seconds.  We had radio and we had record players and we could not afford to buy every song we loved…so we had radio.  That dynamic has never left me.  I still get a shiver up the spine when I hear a great song on the radio I need to hear.  A month or two ago Robert Becker played a song by Gregg Allman that brought me to tears.  For whatever reason, it hit me just right.  I was alone in the office at school listening as I prepped for the day.  I sent Robert an email and thanked him.  I hope he doesn’t mind hearing from me from time to time.  He has no idea how important he is to us.

His work allows the rest of us to “Rock”.

Speaking the Rocking Rights….

Danny Johnson