Sorry Bocephus, but I’m NOT ready for some football. The Bengals kick off their regular season today. Two NFL games have already been played. College ball is wall to wall. And I am completely “meh” about all of it. Especially now that the college players are paid as well as (or better than) the pros.
Oh sure, IF I’m at home and IF I’m otherwise unoccupied and IF there’s a particular team I’d like to see, I’ll tune in. But I’ll mostly just do a quick glance at the scores the next day. I don’t need any “MACtion” in my life. I don’t want the pregame analysis or the hype. I don’t care about the betting lines. I won’t check the Monday morning reactions. I’ll get along just fine without Paul Finebaum.
I’d rather read. Or write. Or play pickleball. Or go for a walk. Or ride a bike. Or take a hike. Or take a trip. Or go to a concert. Or cook a meal. Or repaint and clean out the laundry room. (The last item on that list is currently occupying waaay too much of my time.)
Now that I’m in the 4th quarter of my life, I’m OK with sending football to the sidelines, and trying to create my own highlights.
A few weeks ago, I posted a version of my email soliciting donations for Ride Cincinnati, a cycling event that raises funds for cancer research, education and care.
Here’s what I said back then:
And that’s never been more true.
More than 40 kind-hearted folks have supported my efforts. Family members. Friends from all walks of my life. College buddies. Radio pals. Ad agency colleagues. Former co-workers. Current co-workers. Friends of friends who have become friends. Neighbors. In-laws. Even a couple of outlaws (you know who you are!).
It all adds up. Thanks to their generosity, I’ve surpassed my fundraising goal.
That’s all well and good, but reaching my personal goal wasn’t the real goal. The goal is raising awareness of the great work that organizations like Cancer Care Advisors do. And yes, raising money to help the folks fighting cancer.
You’re giving money, yes. But you’re also giving hope. That’s priceless.
What goes around comes around… mile after mile.
Thanks!
(And if you haven’t donated yet and want to chip in to get me over $3,500, you can do so here.)
“Dubbatrubba, what’s your writing process?” — asked No One Ever.
Why, thanks so much for asking, Mr. or Ms. N.O. Ever!
Whatever weirdness oozes out of my brain usually starts as scribbles. Pen on paper. It looks like gibberish.
It IS gibberish. Or maybe shorthand. But after all the scribbles and scratch-outs and circles and arrows, I usually figure out what I really want to say. And turn to the typewriter to whip it into shape. (OK, it’s a computer – sorry to let you down, Tom Hanks.)
The example above was when I was brainstorming ideas for promotional audio clips (i.e. mini-commercials) to be played on Inhailer Radio. They’re playing old episodes of the “97X Rumblings from the Big Bush” podcast that my friend Dave and I have been doing for several years now. You can catch the new/old episodes Sunday nights at 9 p.m. Eastern.
The time slot is a radio dead zone – I know this from experience because back when I worked at the AM oldies/FM country radio stations (WDJO-AM and WUBE-FM respectively) the program director of the country FM station would let me do air shifts during the Sunday night slot. (With the on-air name of “Cincinnati Redd” so kindly bestowed upon me by the PD…) And there was only one possible explanation for his largesse:
But hey, this new/old medium required very little effort on our part. And perhaps it’ll introduce a few new listeners to our labor-of-love podcast, since Inhailer is a kindred spirit of 97X.
The scribbles above yielded two longer promos (you can listen to one below), two short promos, and three mid-episode “cut-ins” (“you’re listening to…). Not bad for a page of paper and some ink.
Your process may be different. (And it’s probably better.) But if you want to write, start scribbling.
In the Robert Frost poem “The Mending Wall,” the narrator’s neighbor says “Good fences make good neighbors.”
But I say “Open porches make new friends” At least, that was the case this past Saturday as my daughter Leah and I attended a “Porchfest” event in the St. Anne’s Hill neighborhood of Dayton.
It’s a cool concept (especially for music lovers like my daughter and me): free music performances on different porches (and yards) all around the neighborhood.
Explore the neighborhood and support local music at this unique annual festival celebrating the richness and diversity of the Dayton music scene.
It’s not a new concept. The first one was in Ithaca, NY in 2007. But I’d never heard of it until my friend Dave mentioned it a few weeks ago.
Dayton Porchfest was founded in 2017, inspired by the original Porchfest started in 2007 in Ithaca, NY (www.porchfest.org) and Larchmere Porchfest in Cleveland (www.larchmereporchfest.org), which started in 2009. Today there are over 200 Porchfests throughout the United States and Canada. Dayton was the 94th.
They had musicians/bands slated for every hour, with several music genres represented.
Leah and I got there around 3 p.m. – we had just found a parking spot when the heavens opened and a summer downpour commenced. But that didn’t dampen our spirits (just our footwear). Once the rain let up, we caught up with my friend Dave and caught all or parts of several sets. Bluegrass. “folkedellic,” Indie rock, Americana, soul…
We would’ve had fun just exploring the neighborhood – but we never would’ve made the trek to Dayton and explored it without the lure of bands.
Good fences may make good neighbors, but I’ll pick “pickin'” on porches every time. Because nothing creates community quite like live music.
Editor’s note: Below is a slightly modified version of an email I sent out yesterday afternoon. Posting here in case any of my loyal readers (all three of them) weren’t on the distro list for the email… or in case anyone else stumbles across this post and decides to donate.
Writing is usually my happy place, but this is one I absolutely hate writing.
I hate it because I am asking you to donate to my Ride Cincinnati efforts when gas and grocery prices are taking a much bigger bite out of your wallet. Granted, raising funds for cancer research, education and care is a noble cause. But that’s of little solace when there’s “too much month at the end of the money” as the old country song goes.
I hate it because the reason behind the email is cancer, and cancer is pure evil. It has taken away people I love, and people you love. And other friends and family members are battling it right now.
And I dread it because it’s yet another painful reminder that my friend “LJ” is no longer with us. He was diagnosed with brain cancer in May of 2024. He fought the good fight. No one was braver. No one had a better attitude. But still, we lost him in November of last year.
I hate writing this, but I know in my heart I’ll wind up loving the outcome.
Because of your generosity – even in tough times.
Because it helps. Every damn dollar makes a difference.
Through our partnership with the Cincinnati Cancer Foundation (CCF), Ride Cincinnati fundraising supports local hospitals, nonprofits and community programs that are making a difference in the lives of cancer patients and their families.
And because it reminds me that life is beautiful, even when it’s way too short.
24 days from now, I’ll have had as many spins around this globe as LJ got (Lord willin’).
38 days from now, I’m going to spin my bike wheels for 30 miles (knees willin’), to pay tribute to LJ, and keep his memory alive, and to help other folks who are bravely battling cancer with his same strength and grace. What goes around, comes around.
Give if you can. No worries if you can’t. I still love you, and appreciate you.
Thanks!
LJ on the left, with his wife Patty, and our friends Sheila and Art, on a sunset cruise in Florida last fall. We knew it would probably be LJ’s last trip to the beach, a place he loved very much.
In The Shawshank Redemption, Andy Dufresne had some great advice for all of us:
“Get busy living or get busy dying.”
The actor who played Andy, Tim Robbins, also has some good advice for all of us in the latest episode of the Smartless podcast:
No matter what age you are, maybe you should take a page from Tim’s book and consider “retiring” from “the daily anxiety of opposing something” as Tim says.
“The idea that you can find your worth and purpose and virtue by hatred is a terrible, terrible idea… ”
Tim’s absolutely right. That hate isn’t helping. It’s dying from the inside out.
“If the first thing you’re doing is doomscrolling about something that will make you feel better about your political beliefs, you might try a little yoga or you might try a little exercise or take a bike ride.”
Yoga. Exercise. A bike ride. Put down the phone. Turn off the cable news. And get busy living!
“If you’ve been injured in an auto accident, Emerson Jones can get you the money you deserve…”
Emerson Jones is actually a Aussie tennis player. I watched some of her match in the qualifying rounds of the Cincinnati Open last Tuesday.
She’s one of the top 140 players in the WTA. And there she was, on a random Tuesday, in a random city, trying to beat a random opponent, on a random court at the Cincinnati Open complex. Not Center Court. Not the Grandstand Court. Not the Champions Court. Not the Tony Trabert Court. Just one of the many outlier courts, each with a few rows of seats.
At #131 in the rankings, she’s right on the cusp of the draw (128 players each, give or take, in both men’s and women’s).
The match was close, but “Emmo” (as her coaches called her) lost in straight sets. 7-5, 7-5.
She lost to Lanlana Tararudee… great name! Lanlana is slightly higher on the WTA food chain, but still in the “qualifier” group.
FWIW, She’s the highest ranked player from Thailand, too.
As fate would have it, Emerson and Lanlana also had squared off in the previous tournament, in Canada.
Two kids, half a world away from home, trying to make it in a cutthroat sport.
If you look at the prize money totals for both players, you might be thinking that’s some pretty good coin for an 18-year-old and a 22-year-old. And it is. But there’s a price that comes with the prizes.
That prize money has to be split up among coaches, agents, trainers… all the cogs that feed the machine. And then there’s airfare, hotel rooms, meals, equipment…
Not to mention that there’s not much of an off-season for the sport, so you’re on the road constantly. Home is wherever you lay your head on the hotel pillow. And heaven forbid if you skip a tourney – it’ll drop you down in the all-important rankings.
If you want to “go pro” this is your life. Tennis seems like such a glamorous sport. And it is, at the top. But for every woman holding up the winner’s trophy, there are literally hundreds of others that are nearly as good, just trying to make a go of it, on a random court in a random city on a random weekday, trying to beat their opponent so they can do it all again the next day, and the next week.
It’s a lot more grind and grit, and a lot less glamour. Kudos to Emerson, and Lanlana, and all the other “also rans” who are still out there running.
Kevin Sullivan on 43-3=1,001: “Reading while listening to Keith Jarrett, “Guess I’ll Hang Out My Tears To Dry”, good good stuff Damian, thanks.” Oct 3, 09:29
Thomas Kuhl on We did it!: “Well done! Good and Honorable man!” Sep 29, 01:29
Thomas G Kuhl on Get on the bus!: “I am glad that bus keeps circling………” Sep 8, 03:37
Kevin Sullivan on The full-brain workout: “Yep, keep writing .. in your voice. https://www.nytimes.com/2026/08/04/opinion/artificial-intelligence-ai-writing.html?unlocked_article_code=1.4VA.JFCf.Lr_UK5tlpBRR&smid=url-share” Aug 10, 10:57
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