On Friday, May 21, 1999, I performed my final radio show. When I was in my 20s and early 30s, I never thought this day would come. I lived, ate, and breathed radio. I wanted to be one of those guys who never retired, who literally spoke his final words behind a live microphone.
Industries change. Economies change. Priorities change. That’s life. The roaming radio gypsy merry-go-round was a damn fun ride. It lasted for 16 years. I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything on Earth. But as Kenny Rogers once said “You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em.” I did, and I did. No regrets.
Even now, people ask me at least once per week “Do you miss radio?” My answer is always the same: “Yes, I miss being on the radio. No, I don’t miss working in radio.”