May 29, 2016

I love my job.

I realize that isn't the case for everyone, even though we've all been told at one point to 'do what you love, and you'll never have to work.'

That's true. The first time I tried doing what I do was in the fall of 1980, at university. I had no idea what I was doing, no real direction, no one to mentor me, but I fell in love with it.  Too much maybe.

I never did graduate from university, I spent too much time hanging out with my new love, and the oddball cast of characters that congregated there. Characters that are still my friends today. So I guess the time and money spent at university weren't wasted.

Your life changes after university, mostly in better ways. But life can be bittersweet. Friends drift away, relationships come and go, and eventually people in your life start to die.

But they only leave your life in the physical, here and now, sense. You always carry part of them in your heart, and in your memories. Physically, we still have photographs and mementos.

If you are lucky, those past experiences can shore you up at times you feel like you're falling. Or give you a foundation to build your life and love upon.

I've been very lucky, my family gave me so much to build upon - memories, examples of a life lived well. Not rich, but well. They are physically gone now, leaving me the last surviving member of my immediate family. But it's a rare day that I don't think of them.

I'm in a great relationship now - actually two relationships. One with the most amazing woman, and the other is a relationship that goes back to the fall of 1980. And the first time I sat in the chair in the student union building in front of a microphone at the campus radio station.

I'll be doing that today, probably less that a mile away from that first experience. The only changes are that now I get paid, have less hair and (hopefully) have gotten better.

I get to go play radio today.  I love my job.