By: Ken Boone It's been almost one month (give or take a few days) since my cardiologist, Dr. V, told me to cut the dosage of one of my meds in half. Back when I first went to see him, he told me that if I stick with the plan, he could start making adjustments to my pill regimen. I think a decrease in one of my meds qualifies as a good adjustment. Don't you? It just occurred to me that I've been writing this blog for a year! I incorrectly stated either here or on my podcast that it's been going on for just a few months. Although, by comparison, the early blog posts were rather lame musings, they count just as well. Anytime you reach a milestone, especially an anniversary, you do a good deal of reminiscing. I'm no exception to that behavior. If I recall, I was dealing with a slight cold, and I went with my tried and true of keeping the damage to a minimum. I took one sleep-inducing cold bill and got into bed. Hurray for the ad lib remedies. They always seemed to work. February also marks two related milestones. It was February 19, 2010 that I met Celia in person for the first time. It was February 19, 2011 that we got married! So I had to be in good health in order to celebrate those important dates on my calendar. The year seemed to proceed without much ado. I was making podcasts, counting beans, and getting better at writing these blogs. I still took my one cold pill (gel caps preferred) when I got a case of the sniffles. Life was pretty good. It was also during the past year that I started doing some serious reflection of past behaviors. I realized that I'm in the home stretch of my earthly existence. I'm not saying that death is just around the corner. I plan on sticking around until at least 90! Even living that long means that I'm two-thirds the way to the finish line. When we do the look-back of our lives, we tend to focus on our gaffs and screw ups. I'm no exception. I always tend to land on my 20s, which I call "My Wasted Decade". It was the early part of that period that I discovered those cigarettes that you had to roll up yourself, and weren't quite legal yet. I chased my tail a lot back then. I also figuratively shot myself in the foot as well. All I know is that I came out of it having accomplished very little and leaving a lot of scorched earth in my wake! One of the rare episodes that makes me laugh today was when I smoked so much that I started having heart palpitations. In hindsight, I may have just been imagining my condition, but it was real to me at the time. And I wasn't laughing back then. In my panic, I recalled (or, again, imagined) watching a news story where it was reposted that if you drank warm milk and calmly stroked your pet, your heart would return to normal. So I did just that. I didn't stop to think how stupid I must have looked sitting in a dark room sipping warm milk and stroking my cat! Besides, the cat and I weren't particularly close. Eventually I fell asleep, soon to wake up to an acute case of the munchies. Again, the home remedy worked. Fast forward to a year ago. Celia decided to have some long overdue surgery to replace both her hips. The left hip was replaced in July. The surgery went well. The recovery was going well, but I got sick. Unable to climb a flight of steps without panting and coughing, I initially diagnosed myself as having a summer cold. No problem, let's break out the gel cap. The results: nothing! After about two months of self-medication with no improvement, I finally gave in and sought medical attention. At first, I was going to make an appointment with Celia's doctor. I didn't have my own in the years that I've been living in North Carolina. But somehow, I got a flash of wisdom and decided to go to the emergency room instead. Good call, Ken! They took one look at me, hooked me up to a bunch of machines, and admitted me to the cardiac care unit. Their main task was to get my heart and other body parts functioning properly. The bonus was them getting my head right as well. These wonderful doctors, nurses, aides, and technicians taught me that I didn't know everything. Just because I learned valuable lessons from my screwed up early years, I still had a lot to learn. In particular, I learned how to ask for help. I also learned how to take advice, whether it was given freely or I had to pay for it. Now, I have to take between 11 and 12 life-sustaining pills per day religiously. I also have to keep my stress level down. I accomplish that by indulging in a number of creative outlets. One of them is by writing this blog every week. And while I hope you read and enjoy it, I can't let it bother me if you don't. My job is getting it out there. The rest is beyond my control. One more thing. I am no longer allowed to take that dose of one gel cap followed by a nap. You see, most cold remedies have the side effect of raising ones blood pressure. And hypertension is my underlying malady. So, no more self-prescriptions. And that goes for warm milk as well! But wait... there's more!
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By; Ken Boone I'm reaching the end of a busy, but fruitful week. I've gotten more good news on the health front. Celia's back to doing all things Celia. Like driving and taking the stairs without pain. The only thing isn't cooperating is the weather. If there's a such thing as too much rain, we're getting it! However, I am grateful that, here in North Carolina, the weather can change on a dime. It very could be dry and mind within the next couple of days. In fact, I'd bet my coffee allowance on it. In addition to hearing birds chirping, I've heard the sound of bats hitting balls in the local parks I've driven past recently. That's a far cry from my days in Western New York, when I was wearing layers of winter wear just to watch my son's baseball team sloshing around in the wet grass of preseason workouts. My buddy Pete had to endure the same suffering, only double. He has two sons and has lived up for decades longer than the four years I called it home. He now spends his winters in sunny Florida. I'd like him to stay in Florida, or move to North Carolina. But that's a story for another blog post. I started this post with baseball because that was the genesis of our friendship. I'd mentioned that in several of my blog posts as well as my podcast. Like the title suggests, we were just a couple of dads watching our sons trying to squeeze one more summer out of America's pastime before reality brings that chapter in our lives to a screeching halt. We'd known each other for a couple of months when we found out what the other one did for a living. When we discovered that he was a music industry veteran looking for an accountant and I was an accountant looking to make inroads in the music industry, we were off to the races. Pete's record company was in harvesting mode. He was deciding whether to sell or just close the doors and walk away. I was tasked to run a bunch of financial scenarios to see which one made the most sense. I also had to produce royalty statements for the 160+ albums he produced since 1990. After several close calls, we finally got the business sold in 2008. It was because of Pete that I was retained by the new owner to produce royalty statements for the label! In fact, Pete has gotten me a number of music industry gigs through his recommendations. That's just the type of guy that he is. Now that he's rid himself of the day-to-day headaches of running the label, he needs something else to keep him busy. He has a curious mind as well as a restless soul. He's also an amazing storyteller, who will leave you in stitches once he gets started. That brings me back to this week. I pointed Pete to the world of podcasting as an outlet of expression. It was no surprise that he'd already considered it, but didn't have a handle on the logistics of making it happen. That happens to be in my wheelhouse! I could never repay him for all the kind things he's done for Celia and me, I'm more than honored to walk him to and through the door of the next chapter of his life. Whether it's explaining the software and equipment he'll be using, or lending a critical ear about the content and production value, I'll be there. Over the years, people have suggested that he write a book, or two, about his experiences in the music industry. He's been reluctant to do so because of the difficulties in writing, editing, and finding a publisher. And that's before he sells just one copy! Thank God blogging came along. I'll suggest that to him after his first podcast episode is published. We don't hang out in the stands any longer. In fact, it's been over a dozen years since I've attended baseball game on any level. Our sons have long hung up their spikes. His oldest is a police officer outside Syracuse, NY. The other son is in the music industry doing marketing and event promotions in New York City. My son is a general manager in the food and hospitality industry based out of Atlanta, GA. Our conversations take place over the telephone. I admit that we don't talk as much as we should, and each ten minute scheduled call turns into a two hour laugh fest! But now he's taking the plunge into the world of podcasting, and hopefully, blogging. He's asking for my help, and I'm more than happy to provide it. You see, he's one of the good guys. And I discovered that if you do good things for good people, you get good blessings. I'm all for that! But wait... there's more!
By; Ken Boone It's been a great week! In fact, it's been better than any I've had in years. Work-wise, I'm back at full capacity. Just this week, I:
In the past, if I could list just two to three things, I'd consider the week a success. But hey, that's before I started counting the little miracles that occur all the time. I've been able to produce my weekly podcast for six consecutive weeks. I've also published at least that many blog posts during the same time span. A just think, I wasn't sure how I spelled my name a mere three months ago. (Ok, that's an exaggeration). But things were pretty bad. When I was tasked with the job of producing those six podcast episodes I mentioned above, I was given two MP4 audio/video files totaling over seven hours of content. The only instructions I got was to just make it interesting. No problem. The files were from the client's fall conference. I usually record the event myself, but I was just getting out of the hospital and could barely make it up a flight of steps in my house. So driving and recording over seven hours of speeches, panel discussions, and sales pitches was totally out of the question. Reviewing and rough editing the files, I came up with ten distinct sections. Each one could have made it on it's own as a podcast episode. Oh yeah, and the client wanted tp do a studio-recorded solo episode, meaning I was down to five episodes I could select from the segments. One of the segments was that of a group of disabled college students in a panel discussion about inclusion in the job market. Several months ago, I was pitched the idea of recording this very same group. Based on the pitch, it seemed like it would be chaotic, so I proposed a much more manageable format. They declined my counteroffer and I walked away. I've got about three years of experience documenting various stories in this space, so know my way around getting a good show out of just about anything. I'll admit that I was a little miffed by their pushback. Especially since I was going to wave my usual fee. I just knew that what they were proposing was going to be a unruly and would leave me with very little that I could use. Before I could submit my recommendations for the segments we should turn into episodes, the client gave my wife Celia a list of segments that didn't make her cut. First among them were the college students! After some semi-private chants of vindication, I felt bad for them. As I listened to the MP4 with their segment, I found that I could relate to their feelings of exclusion they experienced throughout their young lives. I remember being left out of things many times growing up. And, like them, I was expected to feel grateful for the crumbs that I got. In all honesty, the client and I were on the same page regarding the segments that made the cut. But I had to do something for those students. I made a promise to myself years ago that I would do whatever I could to be inclusive. In addition to the five things I articulated above that produced a great week for me, having my mental faculties return should have been number one on that list. I recalled that I have a podcast show titled "Descant Pop-Up Podcast" just for occasions like this. The plan was to have a place for people to do limited-run podcasts on any number of topics. To date, I only have one episode out in streaming land. So, whether it takes me two days or two months, I will turn their segment into a podcast episode. In fact, Item 4 on my list is the theme song for this very episode! And as I offered when I was first approached to record them, I will waive my usual fee. I'll let you know when the episode is published. Hope you'll give it a listen. One more thing. I just saw a story on the local news complete with footage of tree down, damaging cars and houses nearby. So I went outside to check my things. Except for a lawn chair that was upended, I got away unscathed. I guess this makes it official. This week qualifies as one of my best weeks EVER! But wait... there's more!
By: Ken Boone I woke up last Tuesday ready to jump into a busy day. I posted my blog the day before, and was about to sketch out the script of my latest podcast episode. That venture is still very much a work in progress. But first things first. Made a cup of my morning coffee. Check. Took my morning meds. Check. Hopped on my exercise bike. Check. Checked my email. Check. Wait, not so fast. In addition to the typical message from AARP, NextDoor, and the guy who swears that they can teach me to mix like a Grammy award winning engineer for the low price of $250, I got an urgent request from a client. I skipped over the AARP email, scanned over the NextDoor email, and laughed then deleted the sales pitch from the mixing coach. I don't have much patience these days for people's side hustles. Thanks for the free stuff, but I think I'll just move on. However, the email from someone claiming to be a client piqued my interest. They requested that I purchase eBay gift cards that needed to be sent out "soon". Now, a person with a normal sense of suspicion would easily see this as a scam. I, however, thought this was another example of a client asking for extras. Growing up, I was taught three things (among many others). First, before you place blame, know your part. Second, don't overstay your welcome. Third, put limits on your requests of others. I soon realized that not everyone was taught the same things I was. In particular, the adage of "the squeaky hinge gets the grease" was recited at more dinner tables than I can count. So when people failed to keep track of the asks they were making, I would inevitably pick up a resentment, or four! As I said, my rational self should have immediately got a whiff of a scam, but not this guy. In addition to feeling unduly put upon, it conjured up old feelings of "eBay Envy". That's what you get when you're the only one in your tribe who never scores on that online auction site. What was really happening in my head was fear and jealousy ruling the day. I felt as though my client, among other people, was not playing fair when it came to helping each other fulfill their dreams. No mutual back scratching. So instead of making my asks, I'd stew then resent, then... It took that life-altering event I've been droning on about recently, to get me to a point where I could comfortably demand my due. I'm still working toward being able to command my due. Based on how quickly I bounced back from my medical condition, I think I'll get there quickly. Now, about the eBay portion of the story. Historically been as lucky with eBay as I've been with the lottery. In other words, I think I'm jinxed. I've been outbid at the last minute a number of times. I've had my credit card rejected one time when I actually won. I even got conned when I bid and one some baseball gear for my then 15-year-old son, which would have fit him when he was playing tee ball! So, here we are. The sender of the email(s) was about to go in for the kill. I was busy ranting and raving about the client always asking for things that would take chunks out of my day. That, and recalling the how I've been constantly victimized by the evil forces at eBay, blinded me to what was really happening. It took Celia calmly telling me to look at the sender's email address. Which I did. It wasn't the client's email address. Then she pointed out that the client always uses the recipient's name in the greeting. That too was missing. Then she reminded me that I did have some success on eBay. I purchased the recording equipment that got me back on the path I'm currently on! With my wits collected, and the rage gone, I hit the reply button, asked how many gift cards and in what denominations. When they replied by asking for seven cards in the amount of $100 each, my grumbling turned to belly laughs. I let "the client" stew for about one hour before my reply. Hitting the reply button again, I typed "NICE TRY" the hit send. I then waited for a change in strategy from my opponent. And I waited some more. That episode occurred last Tuesday morning, and I'm still waiting for him to make his next move! But wait, there's more!
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About the AuthorAs owner of the Descant Music & Media Group, Ken is a creator and producer of several podcast shows. He is also a music producer, as well as a writer and an accountant for small businesses and nonprofits. Archives
June 2020
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