What I've learned...

I had my first girlfriend at 14, little Annie and I taught each other how to kiss. Her sister got pregnant at 16, I went to the wedding, a very sad affair, a 16 year old bride, a 17 year old groom, unhappy and distraught families. After the sad little church ceremony we all went out to eat. Halfway through the meal, Annie's dad, an Ai Force Colonel, a B 52 pilot, looked at me and said, "come on outside, I need a smoke". We stepped out of the restaurant, he lit his cigarette, took a long drag and told me, "If you ever do anything like this to my Ann, I will cut your dick off and make you eat it. Do you understand me?" I got it.

A year later I was 15 and Ann was in Turkey at an  AFB, with her Mom and Dad. I was a sophomore in high school. One night a friend of mine and I had a two six packs of beer and two of our female classmates in the car, we were riding around drinking beer. The girls got smashed on a beer or two apiece. We parked and started necking. One thing led to another and I had my hand in the girl's panties, something I'd never done before, I liked it and so did she. Then she said, "Don't make me a dirty girl." I stopped, I got her message.

The next year I had a regular, girlfriend, she was smart, pretty and we got along in everyway possible. We did everything together, we loved each other's company. We were pretty hot and heavy,. We had a long conversation about whether to "go all the way" at the time of the conversation we were naked in my car. We decided we would only go so far and stop. We ended up doing everything except the "act" itself. It worked out well for both of us.

In high school, there were a couple of situations, parties that got out of hand and I heard rumors about the kind of things that happened. I know one girl who had her reputation destroyed by bragging boys. I'm not sure of what happened, but she was the loser in the equation. Another big party, another reputation ruined. I was happy I had a girlfriend I could get naked with 5 times a week.

The common denominator? The girl paid the price never the guy.

A few years later, A college girl friend's sorority sister get hammered with the help of a senior boy, she ended up "pulling a train" at a house party. The result, the girl left school on Monday without a word. The guys laughed. Later the "train conductor" began dating another of my GF's sorority sisters, my GF warned her about him. She laughed it off. a few months later the guy beat the living shit out of her. Nothing happened until her brother, an offensive lineman for the Eagles, found out from their parents, When the season ended, he got in his car and drove straight to the campus and beat the guy within an inch of his life.

When I was 20, I checked into a hotel for the first time with a woman. I couldn't believe how experienced she was for 19. She told me she'd had an "uncomfortable" relationship with a teacher in his 30's for two years in high school. She felt it was her fault.

Years later I was dating a TV anchor, on our fourth or 5th date she told me about getting raped when she was 16. She hoped that I would understand why she wanted to take our relationship slow. She felt she needed to apologize for something she'd had no control over.

So yeah I think Bret Kavanaugh is a lying son of a bitch and he shouldn't ever be on the Supreme Court. He says he doesn't remember, or recall. Bullshit, I remember all of these things like they happened yesterday. I can still see Annie's dad and his blazing eyes, angry and sad at the same time telling me to behave myself with his daughter.

 I've been an asshole from time to time in my life. But, I have never forced myself on a woman or even had the thought of it pass my mind. My entire life, I've been repulsed by the way some men act towards women.

I'm fortunate that I learned my life lessons and remembered them. Some guys never do.

"Go Country?...

It’s perfect early fall weather today in Los Angeles, sunny and warm, the weather is all good from the desert to the mountains, valleys and the beaches and I ruined my day by listening to KKGO, “Go Country”. 

KKGO is the only country station in LA, should be a huge advantage considering more country music and concert tickets are sold in SoCal than anywhere else in the good old US of A. With that advantage they are hanging around in the mid two share range. Here’s what I heard:

First off, Christine Martindale has a super voice, good presence, could the powers that be please let her open the mic more than three times an hour, oh and don’t write gibberish for her to read when she does, Thanks.

Christine, here’s a tip, rewrite that stuff they want you to read, you’re too good for this. You should escape, but after listening to Go Country, I don’t have any idea how you could get a decent aircheck out of the place.

When I turned “Go Country” on I had an immediate problem, I tuned in at the beginning of a 9 unit stop set, the damn thing was interminable. Not only did it seem to go on forever, every one of the commercials had a different level, some loud, some inaudible. Come on, this is basic stuff, there's a kid working on a piss whistle somewhere in Arkansas who can do better work than this, you guys are in the god damned show business capital of the world for chrissakes. Do your job, have some pride.

Finally, when the stop set ground to a halt, I heard a beat of dead air then electronics, zap, whistle, sonic sounds and a filtered(?) voice…it’s loud and irritating, then into a soft intro song. An audio train wreck if I ever heard one. I think maybe I heard an honest mistake, people screw up right? I keep listening.

Man was I wrong! “Go Country” is madly in love with electronic sounds, filtered voices, especially if they are hard and loud and really compressed. The sweepers and produced liners are probably, at minimum, 25% louder than the music. Does anybody in the building ever listen to the station? 

Here I am enjoying some of today’s country, a song about  "drinkin"  or was it about a pickup? Probably both. Anyway, I’m enjoying the song, it dwindles out, a bit of dead air and you guys play something that slaps me across the face so hard, my ears are ringing. Why do you do that? Try this, let Christine say what the annoying filter guy says. I know she could sell the station better and do a smooth transition to the next low audio song in the set.

Here's an idea, you guys are right next to the 405, take the person who records your library over to the window, point at the Freeway and say, “Hit it!” Then find the kid in Arkansas who can do a better job of dubbing your music, he'll be so happy to be in LA he'll work himself to death for you!

With today’s digital equipment and music systems keeping a station on an even audio keel, levels shouldn’t be a problem, somehow on Go Country they are. What’s the old line in the tech world? Oh yeah, it’s “garbage in, garbage out” you’ve got that garbage thing down pat. Good job!

 I'm saying,“What in the hell is the matter with you?” out loud in the car with the windows open. I'm in heavy traffic on the 10. People think I'm nuts. It's your fault, "Go Country"!

I got so irritated by being tossed around by your audio, I can’t even comment on your music mix. Somehow everything on Go Country has been turned into an irritant, the only exception is poor Christine, it must be terrible for her to spend her days inside the torture chamber of “Go Country”. 

I hope she doesn’t start "Country Drinking" to ease her pain. Don’t do it Christine, it won’t end well.

Do you people have any idea of the opportunity you have?  Sam Elliot lives a few miles up the 405, turn north on the 101 and you’ll find him. Get down on your knees, beg him to do your liners. I'll write them for you as a charitable donation and take it off my taxes.

If and when you get that accomplished, set poor, underutilized Christine free. She is the best talent you have.

One more time, “What in the hell is the matter with you?” 

It's Over...

I spent almost 49 years in radio and most of the time I loved it, I loved the business, the people and I loved our listeners.

I've listened to the radio business slide into mediocrity, sure it still has listeners, plenty of them. There are fewer every year and the entry level listener, the kids, the teens aren't listening anymore, at all. Why should they, there is nothing there for them.

I read the broadcast media, blogs. What I read is excuses, people looking for "one neat trick" or an "amazing hack" to turn things around. What I read most often is from people in a defensive posture, muttering "but, but, but..."

I spent (wasted) a couple of hours last week listening to WLTW in New York, it's the number one rated station, it was terrible. The guy on the air is required to open the mic about 4 times an hour and he couldn't even sound like he was interested. It was hotter than the hubs of hell in New York last week and he never mentioned it. The only New York thing he talked about was a swarm of bees around a hot dog cart...he read it off the internet. I know he did, I checked. I could go on, but I won't.

Not only is afternoon drive terrible, the entire station is, I listened around the other dayparts the next day. WLTW is being threatened by classic hits WCBS FM, I noticed WLTW is now playing one LOUD song an hour, think that'll work on an AC? Maybe that's the "one neat trick"? Now the defense of WLTW by radio guys, "gee that's not fair, you only listened for a couple of hours." You know what? That's all you get, if somebody tunes you in for the first time and the station sounds bad like WLTW, That's the only chance you get with them, no excuses.

When I was a young Program Director in a Top Ten Market, I'd drive to the airport and pick up the Executive VP of the company, He'd get in my car and turn on the station, if the first break he heard was bad, I knew I'd be getting my ass handed to me for the next few days, morning, noon and night. Was he fair? Yes. He made me a better PD, a lot better. Our National PD, a close friend of mine, rode to work with the guy every day in the company's home market, He hated the ride,, they'd listen to a break on the AM and then the FM, then discuss, 5 days a week. Did it make him a better group PD, sure did.

Our station was new, an FM, a CHR FM. We built it backwards. We hired the best talent for 6-10pm and 10 to 2AM. Why? We were going for teens in the beginning and that's when they were available, thousands of them. The first goal was to beat our competitor in teens, strip them away and knock their numbers down. When that happened we added better talent to the rest of the day, PMD, then Midday and finally mornings. Our demos expanded, we won 18-34 and got into 3rd place 25-54. In 6 books we won in a very tough marketplace I doubled my income through rating bonuses. One of my jocks did some research a few years ago and discovered we were the 6th biggest FM in the US at the time and the only one not in the top 3 markets

I bought my first house during this time period. I'd bought a new house, I saved money by painting it and putting the yard myself. I decided to paint the house during my vacation. I listened to the station all day, everyday from dawn to dark. I listened standing on the painting scaffold, while mixing paint and I listened while having a cold beer on my deck. Know what I found out? I found out there were a lot of things I could do to make the station better, to make it grow. When I went back to work I started to fix things. I started to sit down with the airstaff after their shifts daily. I'd even come in at night to talk to them. I never saw my wife and kids for months. The station got better because the talent got better by working hard and getting individual attention. I couldn't always keep them, but I had a pipeline of contacts and could always replace them with someone as good, better or somebody with great potential. I lost a guy to LA, found another great one in San Diego. Lost another to Philly and replaced him with a great jock from Miami and so on.

So is it fair to judge a station by listening to one break or for "only a few hours", hell yes it is. The audience will give you one shot, you better be ready and make it count.

Thanks for listening and now get back in your defensive crouch and keep looking for that "one neat trick".

BTW, take a look at your websites, they suck.

A nice girl in prison...Orange is the New Black in real life...

Cakes and I have been binging on Orange is the New Black, I know we're late to the party, but what the hell.

Years ago, I met a woman, a bartender at a quiet little cocktail lounge, she was smart, quick witted and funny as hell. Tall blonde with a bit of a hard edge to her that was a little off setting. She made a good drink, always had a smile and broached no shit from anybody. I liked her and after awhile she liked me. We got to know each other and over time she told me her story. Her name is JW.

JW came from  a well to do family, she said she was the rebellious child, the middle child of three. She started drinking in the 9th grade and liked it, a lot. She and her friends drank everyday, some how they kept their grades up and never had a hint of trouble, "Shit, I was a better driver when I was drinking than I was sober" she said. She smoked some weed, "I didn't like how it made me feel,too laid back. Booze, vodka made me feel, aggressive, made me feel pretty and smart. By the time I was a senior in high school, I was a high functioning alcoholic and damned proud of it."

JW went off to college, a good one and was a Dean's List student, high functioning indeed. "I'd ace a test in the morning and be shitfaced by three in the afternoon. Life was good, know what I mean?"

When JW was a senior, she was living in an apartment with another hard drinking friend and the friend's boyfriend. "I didn't have a guy in my life, I was too busy studying and drinking everyday, I was looking forward to graduating, getting into law school and becoming a big time attorney, of course I was also thinking of all the cocktail parties and high end bars I could hang out in after work, I pictured myself as the hard working, hard partying, witty, sharp ass kicking lawyer."

Just before spring break of her senior year, she and her roomie were thinking about what they'd do on break, they decided an island in the Caribbean was just the ticket, A week in the sun, on the beach, tropical drinks. They had a pile of brochures, they picked St. Bart's. "I had about a grand in my checking account and a tapped out Visa my dad gave me, it wasn't enough money for a dream spring break in a place like St. Bart's"

Over a 5gth of Stoly they decided to solve their financial problem by robbing a bank. The roommate and the boyfriend were all in on the idea. "What we knew about robbing a bank, we'd learned from watching TV and movies, which was nothing, we didn't have a clue. But we got it done, walked in, the boyfriend flashed a hand gun, my roomie and I cleaned out the tellers and we split,, hopped into the boyfriend's Chevelle and we took off. Driving away we saw cop cars, lights flashing all going in the opposite direction. Three days later we were relaxing in a 5 star hotel in on the beach in St. Bart's. We didn't have records, we didn't know any criminals and the cops, even the FBI had any idea who had robbed the bank. Our break was two weeks, My roommate's boyfriend left after 4 days, they'd gotten into a fight, that and he was guilt ridden and scared as hell."

"The boyfriend went home, told his parents and they hauled his ass down to the FBI, the little shit rolled over on us. We had 27,000 dollars in cash left, My roommate and I split it, I took off for the Bahamas, she went home. I rented a little apartment and got a job mixing drinks in a beach front bar in Freeport. Of course my roommate confessed and in a month my face was on wanted pesters. I didn't give a shit, I was having fun selling drinks, getting tan nd having a hell of a good time. My family was losing their minds and that bothered me, but I stayed just drunk enough to not let it get to me."

"I was working one day, and a guy in a suit and wingtips showed up at the bar, ordered a coke, drank it and arrested me for bank robbery. After a nice airplane ride in handcuffs I was in jail, then in court and my dad hired an attorney who did a plea deal and got me a reduced sentenced, 3 to 5 years in the Federal Corrections Facility for Women in Concord, CA. After I'm processed, tested, poked and prodded I'm assigned to a cell. You have any idea who my cellmate turns out to be?"

"No idea."

"Squeaky Fromme from the Manson gang. I mean I'm a convicted bank robber, but Squeaky is a fucking murderer. Know what else? Squeaky had fans, they wrote to her all the time. God she was weird, we shared a cell for almost a year and I don't thinks she said more than 5 words to me in all that time. She was famous and I was just some shitty little bank robber, know what I mean?"

"Damn."

"Damn is right, I didn't sleep a wink for the first month or so, I kept thinking she was going to kill me in my sleep, I never wanted a nice vodka on ice more in my life. After awhile I just ignored her, she read her letters and dreamed about Charlie I guess and I worked in the laundry and took a couple of classes, I even taught a couple of the girls how to read and helped them with letters and shit. I'll tell you something, in prison, if you don't stay busy, you go nuts in short order."

JW got me another drink and continued, "You know who my neighbor across the hall was?"

"No idea."

"Sara Jane Moore."

"The woman who tried to assassinate President Ford?"

"The very same. She and Squeaky both tried to assassinate Ford, but everybody loved Sara Jane, nobody liked Lynette."

"Lynette?"

"That was Squeaky's name, Lynette. They both tried to kill President Ford and they didn't know each other."

"Why did everybody love her?"

"She was the ultimate jail house lawyer, she knew the rules better than the warden, she knew them better than Prison Administrators in Washington did and she held their feet to the fire"

'How so?"

"We were supposed to get a certain amount of vegetables a day, Sara Jane got a scale, weighed the portions and got us more, peas, corn, beans and shit. She got us more socks and underwear, she got us sweat suits, better medical care Sara Jane was our advocate, she made our lives better."

JW spent 36 months in prison, when I met her she was on parole, I asked her how could she work in bar when she was on parole. "I told my parole officer, it's the only fucking thing I know how to do and I can make a decent living at it and finish school at the same time. And watching assholes get hammered night after night keeps from drinking again."

I know JW graduated, shortly after graduation she disappeared, I'll bet she's made something of herself. Meeting people like JW has made my life more interesting and much richer in so many ways.

I'd like to sit down with JW again and find out how she's doing.

Boston Man Killed by Fiedler Obituary...

I spent 47 years in the radio business, most of it when radio was fun, the last 10 or so sucked, mainly because the bankers discovered how good the cash flow used to be.

Here's the reason radio was so fun, the people were creative and for the most part funny as hell.  Here's a couple of funny radio stories....

I had a guy on staff at WVBF in Boston. He was funny on the air and funny in the halls too. Women really liked him, so much so they would tolerate things coming out of his mouth that would get most guys slapped or kicked in the nuts.

One day we had a cold cut lunch at the station, free food was always a hit. In addition to all the meats, veggies and cheeses, there were about 5 different kinds of bread included baguettes.

After everyone had drifted back to their desks, the funny guy, grabbed one of the remaining baguettes, unzipped his pants and let the baguette hang out like it was his, ah you know what I mean.

He wandered down the hall and our National Sales Manager is coming from the other direction. He's grinning at her and she says with a smile, "Pretty nasty yeast infection, Tom."

In the summer of 1979, I was the Program Director of WHDH in Boston. Arthur Fiedler the world famous conductor of the Boston Pops was near death. Jim Sands, Ed Bell and I began to prepare an audio obituary in advance, we wrote it, Jim produced it, Donna Halper dug up interviews and music to add to the obit. We had it ready and all we would need to do is write the latest details and get it on the air. Arthur Fiedler was an institution in Boston and we worked our asses off on it. If I remember correctly, when it was all said and done we won a couple of awards for the production. 

We decided it was going to be an hour long, no commercials. We had 50 minutes completed in advance. It was really good. Sands carefully recorded the master on a 12 inch reel of tape, boxed it and put it on the bookcase in his office. Fiedler lingered for weeks.

On hot summer day, it was stuffy as hell in the station, Jim opened his window and used the obit to prop it up. We were on the 9th floor of the old new England Power Building at the time, just off Copley Square on Stuart Street. Sands somehow knocked the obit out of the window. Out it went, those old reels were made of metal, the tape was heavy too. The entire package weighed between 3 and 4 pounds. The obituary just missed a guy walking down Stuart, it bounced in the air, over a parked car and landed in the middle of the street. Sands ran out of his office, down the hall and into the elevator. He dodged cars and rescued the obit from the left hand lane of Stuart. When he came back to the studios, he said, "The fucking thing just missed the guy by inches! It would have killed him for chrissakes!"The reel was banged up pretty good. Sands straighted it and ran the tape onto another reel. It lived to make the air a few days later.

Eddie Bell, Jim Sands and I went over to the Oak Room at the Copley for a drink after work. We were sitting there and Bell, ever the newsman said, "Imagine the headline in the Globe, "Boston Man, killed by Fiedler Obituary".

My Predawn Hours Up in the canyon...

I wake up too damn early, pre-dawn these days, 3:30 maybe 4. This morning it was 3:10. I got up took a pee, drank some juice and back to bed. I tried to read. I fell asleep, woke up again when my Kindle hit me in the nose, I laid there for awhile and finally got up at 10 to 4. Been up since. What time do I go to bed, you ask? Around 10:30.

What do I do when I get up in the pre-dawn hours? I read, I drink coffee, I talk to Anze the Dog. 

This morning I read a long article about Elon Musk and Tesla. The Tesla S is a hell of a car, in Europe it outsold the big Mercedes S Class, the BMW 7 Series and the other big money Lux-O-Boats, the base price is right at 70k, most go out the door for over 100 grand. The Tesla S out sells those cars in California, too. It's a status car, big time. Ah, but there are problems. Biggest owner complaint? Squeaks and rattles. Electric cars are quiet, no engine or drive train noise making everything else seem louder and more annoying, tire and road noise is amplified or as one owner put it, "Unless I have the sound system one, the car drives me crazy." Another problem, everything is run off the screen on the dash, even the damn door locks. The biggest problem? there no parts in the pipe line, one Tesla S has been sitting at the dealer waiting for a replacement hood for 14 months...as former Ford and Chrysler CEO Bob Lutz said, "Musk is finding out building cars isn't easy." And Lutz is a guy who firmly believes electric cars are the future. We won't even begin the discussion of Tesla production problems assembling their  new models...

On a more personal note

We are in the 2nd week of no construction on our house, it's been nice not having workers tramping around every f'ing day, Monday through Friday since the 1st of March, that's 6 god damned months. So far they've finished a retaining wall on the hill behind the house, a hill so steep they couldn't use machinery to dig the foundation. The hand dug the thing, 70 feet long and 6 feet high and had to haul all the concrete block, re-rod and by back breaking human labor. It took 3 months and it looks like shit.

Speaking of shit, the 2nd major project was the replacement of the septic system. We now have 2 new tanks and a mound system, all built to the new standards, 1250 galloons of tanks, and automatic pump to move the effluviant lup hill to the mound which is 75 yards away. It's an engineering miracle.

Sadly the crews will be back at it after labor day, next up, new porch railings on both levels. Why? They are out of code by 6 inches. Our skylights have to be replaced, two of them, because they are plastic and that's a no-no. Then we get a new roof...the list goes on and on and on.

We've lived for almost 4 years and never closed on the house, because it's is a code violation nightmare, all caused by the guy who lived her since '68 and thought he could beat the system by never filing for a building permit for anything, then he tried to sell it to us and the shit (there's that word again) hit the fan and the county threw the book at him and then threw it again. 

As the old song says, "bustin' rocks in the hot sun" since I'm up and have been close to 5 hours I'd better get to work. It's going to be a long, hard pull to get it to match the other side of the front damned lawn!

That house at the beach looks better everyday! If it wasn't so early, I'd make myself a martini, maybe two.

Wet Dreams...

On a blustery weekend in mid September, I was on the boat alone, not alone, the German Shepherd was along for the ride. Cakes was flying somewhere, San Francisco I think.. We spent Friday night on the boat, On Saturday morning I left our mooring on the Salem side of Marblehead, I sailed east into the Atlantic. I left at dawn. The compass read 90 degrees, I stayed on that course for 12 hours. At 6 pm straight up, I turned around, set a course for 270 degrees and sailed back

Air Time is a quick boat, a Ron Holland design 9.2 meters (29 feet, 10 inches) she's beamy and at 7,000 lbs is relatively light. With her modified keel and rig she can carry a lot of sail. Air Time is a race boat, not a cruiser or a floating Clorox bottle like some boats. She has a nice tidy, practical interior, a galley and a head. 9.2Rs (the R stands for race) have been sailed in s few long distance races, most notable the Transpac, from California to Hawaii, just over 2500 miles. Air Time has won her class in the Marblehead to Halifax race and placed 2nd twice. I've toyed with doing the Newport Bermuda double-handed race in her. But I need more experience off shore and that's what this little excursion is about.

Together we averaged 5.8 knots over the 24 hours in winds ranging from 12 to 25 miles an hour. We covered 139 miles in 24 hours. The waves were 4-6 feet and well spaced. We had high scudding clouds overhead during the day, it cleared Saturday night.

The dog slept below most of the time, he'd spend some time in the cockpit with me with his nose in the wind, then head back to his spot in the cabin. He doesn't like to do his business on the boat, but he finally peed near the scuppers and I rinsed it off with a bucket of seawater. We were both hungry and had an early dinner. He had a bowl of dog food, I ate a can of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. It's funny, I don't like canned fruit and seldom eat it, but on the boat I always crave fruit cocktail. I had a can for desert. The dog got a cookie.

I listened to some Dylan, then some classical music on the CD player. The boat is steered (better than I can) by a Raynarine Tillerpilot. I read  George V. Higgins until the light failed just after 7. We're heading back now and we get a sunset on the ocean, rare where we live on the East Coast. The wind picks up a little from 12 to 15, I play with the strings. The boat speed jumps a 1/2 knot, the wind has shifted a bit so were on a beam reach. I listen to the weather on the VHF, it's supposed to stay like this through tomorrow. I'd like more wind.

 I'm not tired, but I should try to sleep. I need to be wide awake when we get closer to home, a north-south shipping lane runs about 12 miles off the coast, there not a lot of traffic, but it's there. We're sailing in the Stellwagen Bank, a Marine sanctuary, once we cross the bank fishing boats show up

I've got a radar reflector and I set the VHF on the hailing channel, took a look around, propped a cushion against the bulkhead and stretched out. I dozed off and on for and hour or so. I feel pretty good. I peed over the stern rail. Every time I do, I remember a Coastie saying, "most of the time when we fetch an offshore drowning victim's body, it's usually a guy with his fly open".

Check the GPS, everything is fine, on course. I adjust the sails, go below and get a jacket, it's cooling off. Back in the cockpit, I rub my dog's ears and smoke a cigar. At midnight, I made a pot of coffee in our French press, pour a cup and put the rest in the heavy duty construction worker style, stainless steel thermos jug. We even have a holder for the thermos in the companionway.

The sky is incredible out here at night, we're still far off shore, there's no light pollution. The gaps in the light cloud cover reveal a night sky most of us never see.

We sail on. With three hours to go, I'm getting sleepy, I pour another mug of coffee, I should make some fresh. I put the Rolling Stones' "Stripped" on the CD player and crank it up. I wash my face in the sink and go back to the cockpit.

I run numbers in my head, at this speed in this boat, we could sail to the Azores in 12 days, add another 10 days to that and we could be in Gibraltar and into the Med. Believe me I've thought about it.

I've been thinking about long distance sailing since I was 11 years old and read "Sailing Around the World, Alone" by Joshua Slocum for the first time. I've read all the solo sailing stories, Cichester, the first to do it with one stop, Webb Chiles, Robin Knox Johnson and more. I've had a discussion with Phil Weld of Manchester, the single handed Ostar race winner from England to New York City. Weld told me, "you need to learn to sail in all kinds of weather, when other boats don't go out, you go out." I read once that if you want to sail around Cape Horn you need to be comfortable sailing in 50 knots of wind for days".

When I was getting Air Time ready for this season, I met Dame Ellen MacArthur. At one time she held the non-stop around the world record of 71 days sailing an Open 50. How did I met her? I loaned her support crew a hose and my extension cords at the Alden Yard in Rhode Island. Her crew gave me a ride on the race boat, wow! Ellen MacArthur is maybe 5 foot 3 in heels.

I think about sailing around the world all the time.I don't talk about it, because when you do, people think you're nuts, even other sailors think you're nuts.

I can see the Marblehead Light, about 90 minutes to go.

At 6:20 Air Time is on her mooring. I crawled in the 1/4 berth and slept until 9, I cleaned the boat up, called the launch. The dog did his business in the parking lot, he was very relieved. After breakfast at Dunkin Donuts on Route 1A in Swampscott, we picked Cakes up at Logan at noon. I asked, "How was your trip?" "Bumpy all the way back from the west coast. How was your sail?" I smiled and told her, "It couldn't have been better."

Cakes was tired from her flight, I was tired from sailing for 24 homes, we home and took a long nap. I think we went out to dinner and a movie that night.

(A few years later I did get my chance to sail in 50 knot winds, but that's another story.)

.