I took our youngest child, our baby boy, to freshman orientation at Indiana University over the past few days.
On Saturday evening, he stayed in the hotel room with me. Sunday, we had some “classes” together on campus during the morning, then the students and parents split for different sessions, reuniting at dinner. We walked around campus for a bit after that, then he went to the student-only evening festivities, and stayed in a dorm room that evening. Yesterday we attended different sessions before meeting up around noon to head home.
The campus is gorgeous. The business school is top-notch. But the most important part of the trip was Sunday evening, when we parted ways. He wound up meeting and hanging out with a kid from Philly and a kid from Chicago. They stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. Just like the college kids do.
College is about expanding your horizons. His high school was diverse, but there were no kids from Philly or Chicago there. Soon he’ll be around 9,000 fellow freshmen from all over – East Coast, West Coast, Midwest… big cities and small towns. Over the next four years, out of that batch of 9,000, he’ll meet a handful of kids that will wind up becoming his best friends for life.
In less than a month, our baby boy will be moving into a dorm room again. Only this time it won’t be for a single evening. It’ll be for days and weeks on end.
So this entire trip was a test. A test for me. To help me practice letting go.
A couple of weeks ago, our youngest child graduated from Walnut Hills High School.
For him, it’s just another mile marker on his life’s journey. But for Mrs. Dubbatrubba and me, it’s the end of an era. No more high school schedules. No more early morning wake-ups. No more emails from teachers, parking passes, homecomings and proms. He’s starting a new chapter, and we’re closing the book.
Andrew will be off to Bloomington, Indiana, in just a few short months. These past few weeks have been good practice – ever since his graduation, he’s been “gone”… working, meeting up with his friends, going out with his girlfriend, and attending a seemingly endless conga line of grad parties. He’s quite the social butterfly – and he and his friends are starting to realize that their carefree days together are limited.
Meanwhile, we’re realizing that our true parenting days are coming to an end as well. When Andrew heads to Hoosier-ville, we won’t be empty nesters just yet, but that day is on the not-too-distant horizon.
We’ll still be “consultants” but we won’t be “essential employees” like we were when our kids were younger. The shift has been tougher than I imagined.
We’ve experienced the graduation of one Rocket (Gabriel) and three Eagles (Peter, Leah and Andrew) . We want all of them to soar, but we still love them to the moon and back.
A tiny radio station that went off the air nearly 20 years ago, and shut down online in 2010, is “having a moment” as they say. It’s garnering all sorts of “ink” (as they used to call publicity) for rounding up more than 30 DJs who worked at the station to present a 40th anniversary of the signature “Modern Rock 500” countdown of the top modern rock/indie/alternative songs from their massive library o’ tunes. And author Robin James just released a new book (The Future of Rock & Roll: 97X and the Fight for True Independence) that chronicles the history of the station and why its independent spirit still matters today.
The press parade started back in March, when the press release for the Modern Rock 500 came out.
Steven Rosen (who wrote the definitive article about 97X back in 1985 for the Cincinnati Enquirer) came full circle when he highlighted Robin’s new book in CityBeat in April.
On May 8th, Robin James, my podcasting pal Dave Tellmann and I appeared on the local NPR affiliate’s “Cincinnati Edition” program to talk about the book, the station, and the revived Modern Rock 500.
On May 11th, Robin did a book event at The Mercantile Library – co-hosted by Dave and yours truly. That gig was sold out… and an absolute blast!
Robin James was interviewed by Jason Cohen in the June issue of Cincinnati Magazine. (Editor John Fox is a longtime friend of the station – he used to appear on the air when he was editor of Everybody’s News and later Cincinnati CityBeat.)
The press coverage is nice… but honestly, this means more to us than anything else:
We’ve been able to reconnect with a small-but-mighty community through music. And that’s more precious than all the “ink” (or gold) in the world.
“From WOXY I learned it is important to support your local scene. If you care about independence, being creative and really having the ability for both yourself and for other people to innovate and do things that are new and different, then you would care about the story and example of WOXY.”
Robin James in the Journal News article by Don Thrasher linked above
If you’d like to tune in for yourself and find out what all the fuss is about, you can do so today and tomorrow from 9 a.m. – 5 p.m. (the Dolly Parton shift) on Inhailer Radio, and then again over the Memorial Day Weekend at that same spot on your internet radio dial!
Our son Peter graduated from Ohio University a couple of weeks ago. It was a gorgeous, sunny Spring day. Fitting, because his future is bright, and he’s still growing into the person he’ll become.
Peter got cheated out of some of the college experience (thanks COVID!). But in his own quiet, unassuming way, he put in the work. Triple major. Summa cum laude.
The academic prowess is great, but five years hence, it won’t matter as much. Your friends and co-workers won’t care what your major was – they’ll care about how you treat them. Peter’s summa cum laude in that department too. Kind. Caring. Gracious. Generous. Supportive. That’s what we’re most proud of.
It’s called “commencement” because it’s the start of the next chapter. We can’t wait to see what’s in store for him.
The Mercantile Library is one of my favorite places in Cincinnati. A gorgeous space dedicated to reading.
Photo above from The Mercantile Library’s website.
And tomorrow night, I’ll be co-hosting an event there. It’s bucket list material for me.
A sold-out event at that! I harbor no delusions that anyone will be there to hear from me. They’ll be there because they loved a little radio station in Oxford, Ohio that respected their listener’s ears and minds.
My 97X buddy Dave and I started a podcast a few years ago, recording episodes in my basement. We had no idea what we were doing. Still don’t, honestly. “Shoestring budget” would be inaccurate. No budget. Actually it’s a “loss leader” given the hosting and website fees we pay. We’ve done very little promotion of it. But somehow, someway, the small-but-mighty group of people who loved 97X found it. And Robin James, who has been our guest a couple of times, wanted us to co-host her book event. BAM! Pretty friggin’ cool.
Silver lining: this post also references two families, half a world away from each other, who managed to look beyond their own grief at losing a loved one to depression, and start a charity that will help others in a similar situation.
Both text blocks above are from the Tinychanges.com website.
Text/imagery above from the Paws for Patrick website.
Please watch this video to see just a few examples of the ways that Paws for Patrick is making a difference:
What the Hutchison family is doing, and what the Roemer family is doing, is nothing short of emotional alchemy. Taking their tears, their grief, their pain, and redirecting it into something that will help others.
Image above from the Tiny Changes website.
The world is a lesser place without Scott and Patrick. The world is a better place because their families are keeping their memories alive. Godspeed to them.
“The reason why I wrote Fahrenheit is that I am a library person and I am in danger of someday writing something that people might not like and they might burn. So it was only natural that I sat down and wrote Fahrenheit 451.”
They say there is strangeness, too dangerous In our theatres and bookstore shelves That those who know what’s best for us – Must rise and save us from ourselves
Quick to judge, Quick to anger Slow to understand
Ignorance and prejudice And fear walk hand in hand
Rush “Witch Hunt” from their 1981 album Moving Pictures
It’s getting harder and harder to read a book… and easier and easier to get a gun. Which would you rather have in your kid’s hands?
A week ago, I was supposed to be in New York City, visiting my older sister and brother-in-law, and going to a sold-out Jesse Malin concert at Webster Hall. Jesse was celebrating the 20th anniversary of the release of his solo debut album, The Fine Art of Self Destruction (one of my favorite albums ever). An impressive list of guest stars were joining him on stage – Lucinda Williams (one of my all-time favorite artists), Tommy Stinson of the Replacements (another fave band of mine), Cait O’Riordan of the Pogues, Aaron Lee Tasjan (fantastic young artist), Butch Walker, Cat Popper, Adam Weiner from Low Cut Connie…
By all accounts — including this one — it was a fantastic show.
Photos above by Bob Krasner.
I didn’t make it to NYC. I saw a better show. I saw the most amazing display of love and compassion ever, as my wife attended to her mother’s every need during her mom’s last hours on earth.
My mother-in-law had been living with us since December, after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. At first, she used a walker to get around, but after a second stint in the hospital in February, she was confined to a hospital bed in our living room. My wife slept on the floor next to her for weeks, so she could be there in those times of need. Feeding her. Changing her. Bathing her. Administering the meds that lessened the physical pain. Providing the love that gave her mother comfort. Holding her hand as she exited this earth.
Sorry Jesse, Lucinda, Tommy, et al. You know I love you, but my wife is the true rock star.
If you need a healthy dose of perspective on March Madness, I suggest you come over to my house to watch the games.
I’m a Xavier University alum, and have been a season ticket holder for decades. But in the midst of their furious comeback on Friday, I had to turn the TV off. Because the parish priest came over to administer anointing of the sick to my mother-in-law, who is battling terminal cancer. She’s been in a hospital bed in our living room for the past month. Forget “March Madness” – this is March Sadness.
I grew up in Arkansas and love the Razorbacks. Yesterday they too rallied in their tourney game, and managed to knock off #1 seeded Kansas.
(Photo by Michael Reaves/Getty Images)
But there’s nothing quite like administering liquid morphine during a commercial break to give you a better understanding of what really matters. “Survive and advance…”
Nothing I’ve seen on the TV screen can match the courage, the bravery, the tenacity, the heart, the strength that I’ve seen from my mother-in-law. Her outcome is no longer in doubt, but she’s already won.
Sports may be life, but it’s not life and death. The pain of losing pales in comparison to the pain of loss.
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
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