“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.
Many moons ago, Nora Guthrie, the daughter of legendary folk singer Woody Guthrie, found a shoebox full of her dad’s lyrics. British punk-folk musician Billy Bragg and the alt-country/Americana band Wilco agreed to put them to music, and an album called Mermaid Avenue was released in 1998 to much critical acclaim.
A couple of weekends ago, Billy Bragg and Wilco finally performed those songs live for the first time ever. You can check out the concert audio here — but note that it will only be available to stream until Thursday.
But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here for the forgotten genius of that era of the band Wilco. His name was Jay Bennett.
As is often the case with bands, there was an acrimonious split. Wilco founder Jeff Tweedy fired Jay.
Which is a shame, because Jay had so much to do with shaping and expanding Wilco’s sound during that era, as a multi-instrumentalist, and engineer, and producer.
According to friends and former band members (Wilco would not comment for this story), Bennett’s contributions helped transition the group from its ragged folk and country roots to the multidimensional pop that gave them critical and commercial flight. — From this 2009 Chicago Magazine article by Mark Guarino
He was part of three Wilco albums: Being There, Summerteeth, and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. In my humble opinion, that was the best version of the band. And Jay doesn’t get enough credit. Quite to the contrary, he was portrayed as a bit of a villain in the Wilco-authorized movie I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.
It got ugly. Jay eventually sued Jeff for breach of contract. This was in May of 2009. Per Wikipedia: The suit came less than two weeks after Bennett publicly revealed that he needed hip replacement surgery which he could not afford due to his health insurance considering the situation a “pre-existing condition.
And then it just got sad. On May 24, 2009, Bennett died unexpectedly in his sleep… The Champaign County coroner reported about one month later that Bennett’s death was accidental, and was the result of an overdose of the prescription painkiller Fentanyl.[12][13] He was wearing a Duragesic patch on his back when his body was found, said Champaign County Coroner Duane Northrup.
Jay needed something for the hip pain. It’s the same way Tom Petty – who did his last tour with a broken hip – died.
28 years after Mermaid Avenue, Jeff Tweedy gave a lovely shout-out to Jay from the stage.
“Jay Bennett was a huge part of all these songs… these songs wouldn’t be here without Jay… He was a big champion of this project… Continue to think about him and continue to remember him, please…”
It’s funny how life paths diverge. Jeff Tweedy has had sustained success for decades with Wilco. Jay Bennett died waiting for a surgery he couldn’t afford. I’m sure both Jeff and Jay wished things had ended differently, if not professionally then at least personally. But I’m glad Jeff paid tribute to Jay at the show. Giving credit where credit was due.
Woody Guthrie’s lyrics were lost for a long time, but finally came to life thanks in a large part to Jay. It’d be a shame if his contribution were lost to the mists of time.
“The great thing about the work that he did is that it’s there for others to hear forever.”
Ken Coomer, Wilco’s former drummer
If you really want to dig deeper, check out this Medium post and the Jay Bennett documentary below.
I know you’re probably tired of hearing me yammer about some tiny “modern rock” radio station where I worked long, long ago.
Heck, that station has been off the air for 22 years.
It’s so old that it’s now considered “historical.”
Give it a rest already!
But here’s the thing. This past Saturday, the Butler County Historical Society had a 97X “Back to the Future of Rock & Roll” event.
More than one hundred people paid their hard-earned cash to hear more about the station from several folks who worked there: Steve “Bakerman” Baker, Dave Tellmann, Matt Sledge, former student co-producer Jen Dalton (now at Channel 12), and yours truly.
But the Q&A segment at the end was the best part of it, and helps explain why people would cough up cash to attend a history lecture. Because there weren’t that many questions, but there were plenty of testimonials from people in attendance.
“Such a big part of my life.”
“My husband came to Oxford from North Carolina for a job interview, and we moved because he heard 97X.”
“I met my husband at the 97X 10th anniversary concert.”
“The station changed my life.”
“The station saved my life.”
The station’s listenership was tiny. But its impact on those listeners was mighty. The connection was so much stronger than the weak signal. Because we gave listeners what they wanted (music they couldn’t hear anywhere else) and what all of us need (a sense of community).
It meant a lot then. It means even more now that it’s gone.
Here’s a photo of all the 97X alums who were there.
Jen Dalton was an unpaid college intern. The rest of us got a paycheck, but it was below-poverty wages. Yet I wouldn’t trade my time there for a million dollars. Not then, and not now. The people I met during my time there (co-workers and listeners alike) were solid gold.
We loved the music. We had fun playing it. We had free rein creatively – not just live, but also for commercials and promos and contests. And best of all, we knew we were sharing it with people who cared.
Good luck getting anything close to that from cookie cutter corporate radio stations.
It’s why Dave Tellmann and I keep publishing new episodes of our podcast about the station. (Listening links are here.)
I was listening to a different podcast this week where Erykah Badu was quoted as saying you experience two deaths: once when you pass away, and then later when your name is spoken for the last time.
It’s been 16 years and we’re still saying “97X” (with or without the Rainman “BAM!”).
Last night, at the Woodward Theater, Tommy Stinson had some fun. And that was his primary goal. He said so from the stage. “We’re here to have fun… play some songs… and drink water.”
There were probably fewer than 100 people in the audience. Not always “fun” for a musician. Especially one who spent several years playing arenas as the bassist for Guns N’ Roses.
When I say Tommy’s been on stage his entire life, I’m only exaggerating ever so slightly. He started playing bass in a Minneapolis band with his older brother Bob and drummer Chris Mars when he wasn’t even a teenager yet. They added singer Paul Westerberg and became The Replacements, and Tommy was 13 when they played their first official gig in June of 1980.
Tommy and the ‘mats did their brilliant/belligerent thing for more than a decade before fully imploding. Imagine being a grizzled veteran of a defunct band and being a mere 24 years old. Not only that, but imagine being in a band that kicked out your older brother (Bob Stinson was forced out of the Replacements in ’86). That’s a lot to carry for someone so young.
Tommy then fronted a couple of bands, toured with GNR for six years, then Soul Asylum, in addition to putting out solo albums.
He’s spent 46 of his 59 years on stages, in recording studios, and on tour.
And he’s still having fun. He’s sober now, which no doubt helps. But it would be easy to be down about a paltry crowd on a Tuesday night in Cincinnati. Tommy wasn’t down… he was just down-to-earth. After an opening set from Karla Rose (check out her music here), he played several songs solo, then had a band (Tim Schweiger & the Middlemen) join him to rock out. Then Tim Schweiger & the Middlemen played their own set while Tommy hung out at the merch table, taking selfies, signing albums, and talking to fans, most of whom probably wanted to talk about his glory days with The Replacements. I’m sure he’s seen it all, and heard it all, before.
I talked to Tommy briefly. I was too starstruck to carry on for long. I grew up in rural Arkansas, where there was no underground music scene, no clubs, no “left of the dial” (to borrow a phrase from a Replacements song about the college radio stations that championed emerging artists). In 1987, my older brother sent me a cassette tape with a copy of The Replacements Tim album on one side and Pleased to Meet Me on the other. That truly changed my life. I loved those songs so much that I sought out a station I’d read about that played that type of music (97X in Oxford, Ohio). I wound up working there for several years, and have carried that “indie rock” spirit with me ever since.
All I could manage to spit out was “your music means a lot to me” and then said “thanks for continuing to tour” and he said “What else am I gonna do?”
The life of a touring musician is really all he’s known. But from his blue collar, everyman attitude, I think he also knows that life is what you make it. And to still be having fun is worth more than a dozen platinum records.
Friday night: Seeing my son Gabriel’s band The Collies play at a bar in Mt. Lookout.
Saturday during the day: working on a basement clean-up project.
Saturday night: Maggie Rose/Molly Tuttle concert in Lexington, KY with Gabriel. (MP Gannon rules!)
Sunday morning: kayaking with my friend Matt. His wife passed away back in February. Friday would’ve been her 50th birthday. I’m making an concerted effort to catch up with him on a regular basis. (I also organized a happy hour with some of our old co-workers a few weeks back.)
Sunday night: Built to Spill/Wussy concert at Ludlow Garage, with Gabriel and my daughter Leah. (First concert that we’ve gone to together!)
I’m not retired (yet!) but when the topic comes up in casual conversation (as it often does for people in my age bracket), some folks interrogate me with variations on these questions:
“But what will you do all day when you’re retired?” and
“Aren’t you afraid of getting bored?”
My answer to #1 is “more of the above” – more concerts, more time with my family (hmm, I probably should reverse the order of those two…), more home projects, more kayaking (and yes, more pickleball), more travel, more time with friends, more reading, more writing, more podcasting, and more of whatever the heck I want to do. (And yes, probably more naps.)
And my answer to #2 is an emphatic NO! I have waay too many interests for that to happen.
Right now I’m working for the weekend. I am starting to look forward to a permanent weekend. Especially if they’re like this past one!
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
Damian on The Future is forever: “It was a magical time for sure! Just don’t get any paint on that 97X sweatshirt, it’ll bring down the…” Jul 4, 20:44
Andrea J McKiernan on The Future is forever: “I still wear my 97X sweatshirt when I’m painting. I have some amazing memories of those times!” Jul 4, 14:46
Leave a Reply