Over the course of our lives, we create repositories of individuals who drive our thought processes and our behaviors. These people should be in the role of support staff to what our parents taught us in our formative years, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable to suggest that is not always the case.
Take your pick on who they could be. Family members, mentors, entertainers, authors, life coaches, ministers, financial advisors, neighbors, educators, thought leaders, community leaders, and even broadcasters probably make up the majority of fields which have been designated to enlighten and inspire us.
These are the people who we allow to speak into our lives so as to provide additional context and guidance on how we should view a certain scenario or address a situation.
It’s not that we hang on their every word and follow their example every single time. Instead, we seek out their input and value it.
Consider a lump of clay which lays before you, and you’re in need of a pot. One of those mentors reveals to you that you have the resources and the ability to use that clay to make a pot. Another one provides you with some basic knowledge on how to get started on your new creation. Yet another coach offers training on the finer points of throwing clay. A host of others offer guidance to you from their own field of expertise to help you finish the project.
Did I mention broadcasters earlier?
In the spring of 1992, I was right smack dab in the middle of a mistake I had made with my employment situation. I had left two part time jobs that I liked which were relatively close to home in search of a full time position elsewhere.
In that new job where I was probably making less than before, I had to get up early and then fight traffic to get to and from work every day. Once I arrived, I spent gruelingly long days using guerilla tactics to canvass businesses on their copier needs.
My two colleagues were 5-6 years older than me, and had been hired at the same time in a newly created ‘Market Research’ department.
I hated the commute. I hated the job. I hated the pay. I hated those two assholes I worked with.
One afternoon, we were sitting in our office gathering information from pre-internet reference books on some of the copiers we sold. One of the assholes found a radio for us to listen to in the process. I hadn’t listened to a lot of talk radio up to that point, and some non-hard rock, AM talk station was the frequency chosen that day.
“Come on, tell us. Are you pro-life or pro-choice?” A caller chided the host.
After a momentary pause that led me to believe the host had been backed into a corner, he responded.
“I’m pro-choice…” The announcer paused a bit for effect. “I just hope they make the right choice.”
When I heard the radio personality espousing points of view that I had always had but never knew how to express, my burgeoning cavalcade of thought leaders signed its first charter member who wasn’t family.
I began listening to his show on a regular basis. Over the next few years, he would publish a few books. Upon reflection, I’ve got to think those were the first non-fiction books I ever read which weren’t assigned reading. On a side note, I’ve only read two pieces of fiction in the last two years.
Over the next 29 years I continued to listen to that guy and what he had to say. In that time, it hasn’t always been all 3 hours of each of his daily programs. In recent years, it’s been his daily morning update which is usually about 2 minutes long. At best, I was listening to his program for about 30 minutes a day given the time restraints of gainful employment.
In recent months, I had discovered that his show was available in podcast format, so I started listening to him a day later than normal, and at two times the speed. Let’s hear it for podcast apps.
For the last year, listening has been difficult.
It hasn’t been because his views or my views had changed.
Instead, it was because I knew that the foundations of the relationship I have with conservativism were on borrowed time.
Not everybody gets either the privilege or curse of knowing what their cause of death will be. For the last year, we’ve all known it would be lung cancer for this particular broadcaster.
On February 2nd, he took to the airwaves for what would be the last time. He had treatments scheduled during that week, so guest hosts would take over his duties for the remaining part of the week.
Sadly, he never returned to the airwaves. This last Wednesday (02/17), his wife opened the show and announced his passing. That was probably the hardest episode I ever had to listen to.
Just yesterday, I took to the internet looking for digital copies of those books I read all those years ago. I didn’t find them, so I may need to go old school and flip a page or two when I endeavor to re-read them. I just need to remember that adjusting the font size will involve adjusting the distance between the book and my lookballs, as opposed to using that pinching motion I use on my digital reader.
I don’t know that I ever met anyone who was lukewarm on Rush Limbaugh.
People either loved him, or they hated him.
Party Of Love And Progress Rejoices Over Death Of Political Opponenthttps://t.co/6vz3869yTu
— The Babylon Bee (@TheBabylonBee) February 17, 2021
I don’t need to provide a laundry list of all that he did, regardless of whether it was good or bad. All of that is out in the ether right now anyway.
At the same time, I do have two stories about Rush. One of them is only known by a few people, and the other one is an interesting little tidbit I just discovered as I composed today’s dispatch.
One of my favorite stories about Rush was a few degrees removed. There was a time in the early 90’s when my father and I had visited my grandmother. This was after I had left the job drumming up copier business, so I was firmly ensconced in the ways of the Dittohead.
As we were leaving her house, Grandma gave Dad a newspaper clipping with explicit instructions not to read it until later on.
The clipping was an uneducated, one sided trashing of Limbaugh. Grandma had basically used guerilla tactics to get a dig in on Dad, while simultaneously avoiding any rebuttal that he would offer. It’s similar to being trapped on a crowded elevator in which someone emits a smug odor of colonic distress as they exit the car.
Dad was pissed.
And then there was that time I launched an entire website with a story about Rush.
The very first post I ever put on this website was a gag news story suggesting that the Obama White House had been infiltrated by Decepticons. Rush was mentioned several times in the story, because a recent bit about a radio in the office of Obama press secretary Robert Gibbs had been in the news at that time.
Without even realizing it, I managed to make Rush somewhat of a conerstone on this site.
Thank you Rush.
Thank you for showing us what conservatism really is.
Thank you for showing us that it’s so much more than a tenuous relationship with a political party.
Thank you for creating an arena in which a whole new generation of individuals with views across the ideological spectrum are given a voice to inspire and enlighten the rest of us.
Thank you for using that talent you always purported to be on “loan from GOD” to do what you did so well.
You will be missed.
‘Greetings Thrillseekers, Music Lovers, Conversationalists All Across The Fruited Plains,’ Booms Rush Limbaugh’s Voice Across Heaven’s PA Systemhttps://t.co/wwjPSVNCEw
— The Babylon Bee (@TheBabylonBee) February 18, 2021
