What the huh??? An actual post from me??? The new decades is full of new miracles.
On January 1,1990 I was 20 years-old. And, as I did every Monday night at 8 PM back then, I watched
Murphy Brown. The episode was “What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?” When 1989 ended, and it was 1990, Murphy said, “Another day, another decade,” and declared the New Year's party over.
I was a bit shocked by that lackadaisically callus attitude about one decade ending, and a new one starting. I knew that was her character, but that anyone could be so dismissive about one era of time ending, and another starting struck me.
It's 30 years later. I'm...older...now. Ok, 50, and, yeah, I was aware that a new year was starting, but it didn't hit me until last week that it will be a new decade. And like Murphy, I'm thinking, “Ok...another day, another decade.”
So, with the end of another decade, these were my 10 top moments of the 20-teens.
Honorable mention: Grand reunification with Karen M Soock-Amster in October 2010.
My trips to Oregon with Karen in 2011 and 2012.
#10. February 17, 2018: After years of looking for An
ELO Podcast, and not finding one, I thought, “F--- it. I'll do it my damn self.” (Actually, that's kinda been the inspiration for a lot of what I've done.) I teamed up with Eric Wincentsen, and Karen M Soock-Amster, brought in Leesa Marie Magoch. Later George Leonberger, Mark Herring, and Troy White joined in.
And as of Monday December 30th, we had 59,250 listens. I'd call that a success considering our advertising budget is sharing the link in ELO groups on Facebook.
#9. January 2012: I went back to school at age 40 to get the broadcasting degree I let other people convince me I was not suited for 20 years earlier. Part of the requirements was a newswriting class. Midway through the semester we got our first assignment to write for the school newspaper. Story ideas were written on the wipe board. I took the story about the new parking lots being built. In most people's hands, especially the novices in the class, it would be a boring story to cover, and read. But I'm Eric Paul Johnson...creative genius! I wrote that story jazzing up parking lots, and smeared a bucket of humor over it. It was a joy to read.
The teacher, Judy Galbraith, thought it was great, and asked if I wanted to be on the staff of
The Puma Press.
I swore off legitimate journalism in 1987. I hated my 18 months on
The Skyhawk Flight. Hated finding stories, I'm shy so I hated interviewing people. Questions were hard for me to come up with, and I always came up with lame superficial questions. And my dealings with newspaper advisors always resulted in threats, or punishment. From them, not me. My instant thought was, “absolutely not!” But I pondered it over in my head, and said, “Sure. I'll give it a whirl.”
Unlike previous newspaper advisors who stuck me in reporting, Judy saw where my real talent was, and that was making shit up for humorous effect. So she made me the humor editor. Of course, the section was titled
The Loon News.
Unlike my time on
The Flight, I
LOVED working on
The Puma Press. Besides humor, I also became the graphics editor, I stayed late putting pages together, helped out in lots of places. I absolutely hated to leave two years later, but you can't stay in community college forever. And as an added bonus, Judy Galbraith was just the sweetest person I've ever newspapered with.
I also met a batch of swell people which lead to...
#8. August 4, 2014: It was no secret that I despised living in Phoenix, and had been dying to live in Flagstaff for the last 15 years. But moving is expensive. And so is Flagstaff. Since I had been unemployed, underemployed, getting by on student aid, begging for money on Facebook, moving was out of the budget.
Puma staffers Scott Shumaker, and Nikki Michelle Charnstrom were going to move on to NAU in Flagstaff. I don't remember being asked if I wanted in on this, just told they'll pick me up to look at places to live in Flagstaff. We found a nice house, and after 16 ½ years in the same apartment, I got the hell out of Phoenix, and swore never to move back if there wasn't a ridiculously high paying radio job attached to it. I loved
EVERYTHING about Flagstaff. It was fantastic. I hated to leave, but I had better life options elsewhere that I'd been putting off for three years.
#7. December 16, 2016: I graduated from Northern Arizona University. I walked up to get my diploma when my name was called. After shaking hands, and getting my scroll that basically said, 'thank you for getting buried alive under crushing debt you'll never pay off at NAU. We'll mail you your diploma,' I walked back to my chair with a spine that didn't slouch. I did it. In 2009 I went back to school at age 40 to get that broadcasting degree. And now I have it. I warped my gourd to understand algebra, macroeconomics, and statistics enough to barely pass those classes. Put up with an asshole documentary teacher in 2015, had a great time being on The Puma Press, playing on the radio, being part of the studio crew for NAZ Today. I didn't let things get in the way to the point of quitting school. I plowed through. And I have the Bachelors of Science in Creative Media and Film with a Production and Executive Emphasis to show for it.
Looks pretty on my wall as I go to work every day making pizzas for the citizens of Cornfield, IL. Yeah...not the ultimate outcome I was hoping for. But college got me on the radio, got me out of Phoenix, got to work in TV for a bit, and I met a ton of great people.
#6. August 2017: Thanks to moving to a blue state, I had no trouble getting Medicare. (Unlike red state Arizona where I could never get it despite having an income of 37 cents.)
For the first time in about four years I got to see a doctor. Good News! I'm not dead! Bad news, my A1c was 11.6. Waaaaaaaay into the diabetes range. Well, that hit me like a cancer diagnosis. I looked at Madelyne and Tulla like my time with them was running out quickly. The sugar consumption stopped immediately. No more soda, no more sugar based cereals. No chocolate, no ice cream, no pies, no cake. None of it. I've since found yummy substitutes for all of that, and my A1c for the last year has been at 5.6. Diabetes is declared at 5.5.
#5. August 6, 2010: As usual, money was running out, looking for a job was getting me nowhere. I vented about this on Facebook, and included that I really wish I could get a radio job. A former friend replied with, “Why don't you do your own show online, and show off your mad DJ skillz.”
Wait...what...you can do that? I didn't know that was a thing. She hipped me to Ustream. The triple dawg dare was laid out in public, so I had to follow through. So, on August 6, 2010 I did the first episode of
The Eric Paul Johnson Radiotrola Program. I expected to burn out, or run out of ideas to fill an hour every week after maybe a month or two. I had trouble coming up with ideas to fill 5 minutes of a weekly video blog the year before. But, the more I did my “radio” show, the more ideas came in, the more people came in with their own bits. It went from 3 listeners in 2010 to 400ish in 2013. The last
Radiotrola Program posted on August 6, 2017.
It got me a gig interning on a broadcast radio show, and doing occasional on-air banter. It got my own show on AM radio. It got me (see #1.)
#4. April 30, 2015:
The Eric Paul Johnson Radiotrola Program was kickin' ass on NAU's AM student-run station KJAK. By YouTube views, my show continuously pulled in two or three times the views all the other non-sports shows were getting. In January 2015 I was made the Assistant Production Manager. Production was where commercials, and I.D.'s were made. And, again, I crushed all in there. Prob'ly unfair advantage that I had 30 years experience on everyone else making this stuff.
When I joined the station in September 2014, everybody who had a show was told, “Do whatever you want. Just don't swear.” So I did whatever I wanted without swearing, and I had a hell of a good time doing it.
I was getting the vibe that management wasn't happy with what I was doing. Nothing was said, but the higher ups were distant to me. I applied for the job of full Production Manager, but felt like I was not even being considered for the gig despite my experience, and crate loads of material I made for the station. I heard rumblings that the Production Manager didn't like me, and wasn't passing my work up the org chart.
So, on
April 26, 2015 I did an on-air application for the job of Production Manager. Played the stuff I made, boasted about my experience with making commercials, and I.D.'s.
That got management's attention. And were they steamed that I did it! And, boy did I wallow like a happy pig in mud over it! I don't go looking for trouble, but when trouble comes, I laugh at it, and play with it like a cat with a nip-spiked toy.
On April 30th the general manager left a message on my phone that
The Radiotrola Program was cancelled, and I was banned from the studio. Meh...I did
The Radiotrola Program without them for four years, I continued on without them.
#3. March 21, 2017: Now, I wouldn't say the diploma was useless. Broadcasting legend Brian Rackham thought I was fan-damn-tastic working the soundboard for
NAZ TV. After decades working in radio and TV he became a teacher at NAU working with the school's radio and TV stations. After I graduated, we sat down, and talked. He said he could get me a gig working the soundboard at a station in Phoenix.
Great! But one thing...My newly minted fiance lived in Troy, IL. And she has a kid. Moving the kid out of state would require a lengthy court battle with her ex-husband. It was much easier for me to pack up my Legos, and lifesize Yoda, and move to Troy. I asked if he had any connections in St. Louis. He did, but she retired to Florida a few months earlier.
Tulla was a good thing, and I damn well knew it. While I knew she was committed to me, and would ride out the distance, I also know that even the most devoted person is gonna say someday, “I can't live 1,600 miles away from you anymore.” And a split up occurs.
I'd been putting off living with Tulla and Madelyne for three years to finish up school. I was not about to make that four years. Or longer. When you're in your 20s maybe you can put things off for a while longer. But when you're 47, hurtling towards 50 with a family history of men not making it past their mid 50s, another year is never guaranteed.
So, I gave up Flagstaff, a job I loved related to my degree, packed up my shit, and me and my dad drove from Flagstaff, AZ to Troy, IL.
And I've never had any regrets about that.
#2. April 15, 2008-August 2017: They say that you find out who your real friends are when the spit hits the Spam. (Or something like that.) Truer words have never been spoken.
The Great Recession hit me hard. For nine years I was ridiculously underemployed, managed to nab a temp gig here and there, but for the bulk of it, I was flat out unemployed. And when the unemployment benefits ran out after 99 weeks and I still couldn't land a job, what little money I had dried up really fast.
So, I took to Facebook pleading, or venting my case to the world. A few friends, and people who would become my friends, came to my rescue and literally saved me from becoming homeless. Others who I thought were tight friends, weren't so much help.
I am absolutely not knocking them because they didn't PayPal me any money. BEE-LEEV-ME I more than understand not having money to throw around. Even if it's for a noble cause like keeping a friend in a place to live.
I'm talking about the ones who seized the moment of my absolute lowest in life to piss on me. Without a single bit of knowledge about how many jobs a
DAY I applied to, or the economic situation of the country, or even how getting a job works in the 21st century, they laid into me.
Said I wasn't trying hard enough, called me lazy. A friend I had since the late '70s even accused me of scamming my friends out of money I'd never be able to pay back. Yes, of course, fuckface. I spend my life consumed by an inferno of fear over whether I'll still have a place to live at the end of the month. I humiliate myself by begging on Facebook, and on my Internet radio show for money to just survive. I starve, live on cereal and milk, and even go without medication because it's a good sob story to get money out of people. Choke on a dick, you rancid cunt!
And lazy? Why don't you assfaces come see what I do to get a paycheck now, and tell me I'm lazy. Especially on weekend nights. Some of you jugheads wouldn't last a day, if even make it through one shift without crying uncle, and slink home withered.
There were very few jobs around during that recession. Applications were through the Internet where computers scan for certain words. And if the words weren't there, the application was kicked out before a human saw it. I once took a day job remodeling apartments. I stuck my bare hand in a toilet with a big sponge to sop out the dirty water. I pulled the toilet up by grasping it by the under-rim of the bowl. With my bare hands.
I'M A LIFELONG GERMOPHOBE! So don't sit there in your fucking comfy home with your regular paycheck, and tell me I won't do anything for a job when shit gets real.
But that didn't matter to the people who were in their job security bubbles who hadn't looked for a job in 10 years or more. Or others who had a wife/husband/partner to bring in the money, so they didn't have to look for a job in the 20-teens.
As you can see, I'm still a bit bitter about all that. Which is why it's ranked at #2.
And to the people who said I was scamming friends out of money...I've paid back, in full, a few of them, currently in the process of paying down my debt with another friend, and there are a couple more on that list who will get their money back. I always pay my debts. Sometimes it just takes a long time.
#1. September 6, 2013:
The Radiotrola Program gave me something it was not intended to. A wife.
In August 2013 Grant Carpenter started doing a segment for my show called “Adventures in Limeyland.” Since he was on it, he plugged it like mad all over the Internet. As a result, the listener numbers went from around 100, to 300ish/400ish every week. One of those new listeners was his friend in Troy, Illinois.
Tulla Bear commented on the link. I commented back, and we hit it off from there. We became Facebook friends, replied to posts, private messaged.
In February 2014 I asked Grant if she was really like this. She was calm, didn't get ruffled, didn't make a big deal out of little things. After four years in a romantic relationship where little things were turned into the possible extinction of all life on earth almost every day, I didn't want to be taken in by laid back, only to find a rabid bear hiding behind it.
A visit to Illinois for my birthday week in 2014 cinched it. She was for realsies. I, without reservations, gave up the single life I loved for five years, and asked Tulla to be my girlfriend in May 2014.
On December 18, 2016 I proposed to her. Again without a smidge of fear that this could be a mistake.
On September 29, 2018 we got married. And the honeymoon in New England was wonderful. The “Vincent” episode of
Doctor Who has extra meaning attached to it now.
49 years-old, and I got my first wife. An endearable step-daughter came with the package. One of the smartest decisions I've ever made. Since being together I have financial stability, a car (after 13 1/2 years without one,) and serenity.
With Tulla all things are possible.
exhausted
grumpy
infuriated