On May 31 my wife, Dottie, and I will have been married forty-seven years. She’s a retired nurse. I was coming off a blind date and she was coming off a shift at a nursing home, and I saw her and said, “I want to go out with her next.” We have five grown children, five grandchildren and a great-grandson.
I was going to hold off and retire in January because we have a big cruise to Hawaii coming up in February. Dottie and I always go out with a group of listeners. This will be our twenty-second time.
I’ve got what I plan to do next down to two choices. One is I want to drive the Oscar Meyer mobile. The other would be to stuff pimentos into green olives like Lucille Ball did with chocolates. Of course, that’s nonsense.
On the air I’d say, “I’m Rosie’s wayward son, yours for a song, where there’s no cover charge, no minimum. All I need is you. And every seat is a box seat.” It’s not just the music, it’s a package thing. I’ve known my listeners for over 25 years. They always want to put a face with the voice. I want to know, does it fit? — as told to Brandon Walters; photographed by Stephen Salpukas
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