It was always the most straightforward question to answer. What do you do for a living? My response —I’m a radio guy.
That description was first earned in the 1990’s while sipping ultra-strong coffee from the overnight coffee pot at Lincoln’s Classic Rock 92.9 The Eagle after working shifts at the college campus radio station. When I wasn’t in class or my bed, I was taking up residence at the studio.
It became more than a job description. It was an identity…for three decades!
Now, when new contacts at an event ask what I do, I bristle. I still have a connection to a radio station, but it’s mainly behind the scenes. I also write, podcast, do voice-over work, and marketing. My main job is that I am a full-time caregiver for my adult son with autism, who requires 24/7 support. I’m his wingman, and his happiness and reaching his potential are essential tasks. You could say, life-defining.
When I transitioned to this role more than two years ago, many said I was retiring. To me, that was a slap in the face to primary caregivers. True, I would not be heard daily over a radio broadcast, but that in no means meant sitting idly by without putting in the work.
It was a new chapter.
Why do we often ask about a new contact’s profession? Is that because it’s a natural icebreaker? I’ve always found comfort in our shared passions in society. For me, that meant sports, movies, TV shows, and culture. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in the first minutes of conversation who asked, “What are your five favorite Tom Cruise movies of all time?” There’s a good chance they would think less of me when I respond with Cocktail. I mean, that movie had it all. Humor, romance, and drinks that rhyme with Alabama Slammer! At the end of the film, which was rejected by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the main character transitions from bartender to business owner and poet. He dotes on his family.
I would love to share the latest about my lovely wife, my son making wiser choices at my alma mater than I did, or my oldest son, who can lift any spirit on any given day. We spend about 355 days a year together for 75% of the day.
Maybe it’s because doomscrolling has replaced many hobbies. I love podcasting, reading books, writing, and road trips. Those stories can lead to better discussions than when I introduced a Foghat song back when I had hair, or that one awkward conversation I had with Carrie Underwood. Ok, three awkward chats with Carrie Underwood.
Over the last 1,000 days, what I’ve really enjoyed most is hanging out with joyful, compassionate people and having great talks. The best of those interactions rarely referenced what they do for a living or a play-by-play of their workday.
On a recent buddies trip to Chicago with two lifelong friends, one of them told me at a bar in Wrigleyville, “Go chat up that group of random people. They look fun, and you start the best conversations with anyone that I know.”
We must have talked to 300 random people that weekend about Pittsburgh Pirates pitching phenom Paul Skenes, the best Italian beef sandwich in the metro (I vote Portillo’s), or John Hughes movies, back before cell phones, when you could escape into a heartfelt coming-of-age film.
Professions are important. We should all be lucky enough to find fulfillment in a career.
However, the best conversations go deeper than your gig.
If you ask me what I do, I may say I’m a Conversationalist—flourished in the 21st Century—propounded with a set of dialogue laws the world generally ignores, to its detriment.
A version of that line smashed it in July 1988!
Tony Michaels would love to hear from you. Head to @BaldandWitty on X or go to www.baldandwitty.com
