Dear Maoists:
 
Love your responses.  How many lefties have successful talk programs?  The answer is none.  How many win elections in Minnesota?  The answer is they can’t even make it through a primary!  So you folks are reduced to replying to posts here. 
 
I not only post but I’ve got this really large megaphone called a radio show.  If you want to take my microphone away you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands! 
 
Speaking of the N-R-A, several people I worked with at the Postal Service could’ve used the safety training.  Instruction includes exercises on how to cool down.  Glad I take a breather from time to time.  It’s allowed me to remain among the calm while I waited 2 weeks for a “lost” paycheck.  It’s what I was told although I wasn’t told where it was lost or how it got lost.  The folks back at the old P.O. also told a member of the House of Representatives I already had possession of the check even before it was mailed my way.
 
Wherever my way happens to be.  You see I’m told I don’t have an address here.  Or I did but now I don’t.  Six days ago I walked into the Millsboro Post Office and gave the folks my location and was handed keys for the new box at the end of my road.  Almost one week later and still the box won’t open.  Yesterday I went back to the Post Office and was told it couldn’t be anything serious, however.  The last tenant is still getting mail at the box.
 
Last night they key didn’t work.  This morning it was time to telephone the Millsboro Post Office.  Some fellow, he sounded like an extra from The Sopranos, got on the line and explained he was trying to help me.  It seems the lock was changed last Friday but while I was out of town Saturday it was changed again because the old tenant complained.  Uncle Junior says I can’t have the address because she still lives in my building.  Yes, but she lives in another part of the building.  He then suggested I telephone 9-1-1.  Yeah, I’m about to.  The cardiac pain can’t be far away.  Since when do you move and get to keep your old address? 
 
After spending 20 minutes on the telephone with no solution I walked outside to find some mail on the picnic table.  The old tenant left it with a note explaining I’ve got the wrong box and need to call the local P.O.  The two letters were damp.  Not sure if it rained last night but my mail was as limp as a pair of old, used sweat socks.  The pile included a check from the P.O. back home.  A wet check.  Which I’m mailing back to my bank.  Wondering how long it’ll take to get there? 
 
Years ago I knew a talk host named Cornelius O’Leary.  Really, I did.  Corny was doing his show and complaining that a pair of new glasses hadn’t arrived in the mail and said the glasses were overdue.  A friend shared a story about all of this.  He was working at a postal sorting center and with his colleagues that night was listening to Corny’s show.  One suddenly looked down and saw a package for Mr. O’Leary.  The mailman picked it up and dropped it in a bag for shipment to Hawaii.  When it came back it was sent to Hawaii a second time.  Corny got his glasses about one month later. 
 
This is what we’re dealing with.  Entrenched workers protected by a bureaucracy that always has an excuse and looks to shift blame.  Government managers and labor racketeers working in concert handling our commerce and communication. 
 
George W. Bush says he wants to emulate Ronald Reagan?  Here’s a suggestion Mr. President, clean out the chaff. 

The good guys this week are my dry cleaners.  Great people and very polite.  Also my landlord’s mom.  I had some “wrinkle free” shirts in the washing machine today and she told me she could hang them on the line while I’m at work.  Do keep in mind an old boss of mine with a military background claimed there was no such things as a “wrinkle free” shirt.
 

The positive out of the way let me talk about the United States Postal Service.  If Ronald Reagan made any mistake it was that he stopped after the air traffic controllers.  Friday I signed up for local mail delivery.  There is an array of boxes at the end of my road and I was assigned one and given a key.  Today is Wednesday and I still can’t get inside.  I’m told the lock was changed.  Now I’m told there is still mail jammed in the box for the previous assignee and it’s jamming the lock.  Why the old tenant’s mail is still inside begs a few questions but having worked for this bloated quasi-government agency I can attest there are no quick answers.  Anyone charged with responsibility just points at someone else.
 

It was my hope I could open the mailbox today.  My former employer, the United States Postal Service, claims my last check was being mailed Monday.  This after it was lost for ten or 11 days.  This after a congressional office looked into the matter and was told I now had my check.  I explained to a congressional staffer that mailing me the check doesn’t mean I have it yet. 
 

When I sent Dan a “demo” of my work it came by United Parcel Service.  Go with the people you trust. 
 

Now you know why so many people go “postal”.  I’m not much one for shooting off firearms in crowded rooms.  I just make telephone calls to representatives and expect results but if you gave me a 16 pound hammer and allowed me to whack a postal counter a few dozen times I could be appeased. 
 

Next rant lay off the people who work at this radio station and our advertisers.  A radio station is a business.  Those among you owning your own business know what I’m talking about.  You want to come on-air and shoot your mouths off about our advertising partners?  You’ll soon find there isn’t anyplace to shoot off your mouth, aside from directing it at your spouse, if said spouse hasn’t already left you.  My impression the people giving us all the grief are known in their own neighborhoods as the, “Hey, you, get outta my yard” guys. 
 

I’ve a simple solution for you folks.  It’s called disconnecting your calls.  Many, many years ago I worked at a talk radio station and some French immigrant got barred from a show and then complained his right to free speech was being violated.  Friend, you can’t go into a mall, which is private property, and set up a soapbox and start spouting vitriol. 
A park perhaps but not at the mall and, for the most part, not here. 
 

From what I’ve seen so far most people here are smarter than counterparts in many other parts of the country.  So give it a rest. 
 

I’m reminded of a story my brother told me after he left our small hometown and never came back.  He lived in L.A., Fort Worth, Orlando, Calgary, South Korea and Bulgaria.  When I asked why he never came back home he replied that he didn’t want to live around 3,000 idiots.  Then he paused, thought for a moment, and reflected the idiots seemed to follow him wherever he went. 
 

I don’t plan to suffer any here.  It’s more than enough suffering liberals. 

Football wasn’t much of a distraction while driving the Pennsylvania Turnpike Sunday.  Piloting a 16-foot truck filled with all my worldly goods I was also towing a car behind the truck.  The Steelers were hammering the Bills and while I wasn’t happy about that I was more concerned with other drivers.  Like the fellow tailgating me on an exit ramp or the fellow who passed me and then nearly ran me off the road by pulling back in front of me, by just a nose. 

 
That the Mets lost was small consolation.  My knuckles are still sore from the drive.
 
On the list of “Things Bill Hates” moving must make the top three. 
 
Today I told a friend that it has been the perfect storm.  The payment information I was given by the truck rental agent was wrong.  I was forced to scramble Sunday morning to find another method for renting the truck.  My first radio station paycheck helped and I made it to the bank and personally deposited it Saturday morning.  Through a living and breathing teller, however.  It doesn’t get credited to the account until today and as of noon was still pending.
 
An old friend from my early radio days promised to loan me some money.  A few weeks ago his dad handed him some old government bonds worth 65,000 dollars.  My friend is doing O.K. but he currently has no bank checks.  Someone at his bank lost the slip and his last check order is “pending”.  His offer meant the world to me but he has no available cash and for the moment no access to his account.
 
And the United States Postal Service.  My friends, this organization just screams out for the efficiencies privatization could deliver.  This Monday morning Human Resources telephoned to tell me my last check had been located.  Is this related to any telephone calls I made to a member of the House of Representatives?  The best answer, right now, is “Don’t know?”  I’ve not worked for the Postal Service for several weeks.  Turns out I’m still listed as an active employee.  Turns out someone set my paycheck aside and figured it wasn’t a priority.  Well, not a priority for whomever made that decision.  Strange that I’ve already been paid here at the Talk of Delmarva and yet my friends at the government are just getting the check in the mail.  It’s my hope it doesn’t go through the shredding machine I used to operate.  And I’m guessing it won’t arrive until Friday.  Delaware is supposed to be just two days delivery from New York.  Right…
 
And since I’m still banking with a company that has no local branches I can then mail it back to New York where it will become a pending deposit for another few days.  I’ll have two paychecks here before I have any access to my last postal check.
 
Now friends have asked why I didn’t have direct deposit?  Because nobody at the postal sorting center offered it.  Then they ask why I haven’t opened a bank account here?  The first and best answer is my finances and how I conduct them aren’t your business.  I rank these questions right up there with, “Do you mind if I ask how much money you make?”  One friend really asks me that.  Coincidentally he also works as a Postmaster in a small town. 
 
The other answers are that there are certain reasons related to family and other financial matters that compel me to remain with Key Bank for the near future.  Again, my friends really don’t need to know this.
 
I give them no advice about money, women or career choices.  Why do they insist on thinking they must counsel me about these things?  Come to think of it most of them have rotten luck with all those money, women and career decisions.  I don’t want to contribute to the cause. 
 
Look, friends, I graduated cum laude and I didn’t put any special effort into my studies.  When I managed million dollar news budgets I once brought the yearly cost in by 13 dollars below the line.  This after being asked if I could contain spending.  Young people I brought into TV now fill the network news ranks. 
 
Then there is the I.Q. thing.  Some guy on the Internet put out a test.  I took it and was in a hurry and scored a 126 because I blew off the math questions. 
 
So, friends, stop with all the advice. 
 
Have I been stressed lately?  You bet.  Does it show on this blog?   Hey, sorry.  When I’m unpacked I’ll cool down.  Give me 3 weeks and I’ll be the happiest guy on the planet.  But for now put the advice aside and I’ll reward you with a very funny story about the man helping me unpack.

It was Friday January 26th in broad daylight when 45 year old Paula Grossi was shot to death at her Stable Farm Development home in Rehoboth Beach. It has been over 7 months since this tragic incident, and so far it remains an unsolved mystery. State Police this week, without being able to go into any detail, told WGMD:

 “The investigation is still active, but there are no significant leads.”

One thing that seems odd to me is that her father Frank Grossi offered a 100,000 dollar reward and spoke at a press conference, but after that, he did not wish to speak to the media. He has not been seen or heard from since. Police said at that time that a relative of Paula Grossi, and a friend, were at the home at the time of the incident. They told police that they were tied up as two men ransacked the house and left. Police released a composite sketch of a man around 40 years old with what looked like a small teardrop tattoo under his left eye. The other guy was said to be in his early 20’s. There were no reports of any vehicle at the scene. Does anything about this story sound suspicious to you? I am currently following up with State police, and they are looking into any new information they can share with us. Stay tuned..

 

 

Give me a moment to say something nice about Postal workers.  The folks at the Millsboro P.O. are just swell.  This Friday morning I had to mail some letters, pick up a change of address kit and get a mailbox key.  And I was on the cell phone with the moving company getting the impression someone on the other end of the line was planning bait and switch with my truck.  It’s happened before, although with a different company. 
 
I walked into the Post Office and dropped a letter in the out-of-town box and suddenly couldn’t remember if it had been stamped.  A letter going to Wilmington but with my old return address.  Which could mean the folks at Discover could be very upset in a few days and I wouldn’t know as the returned letter could go to N.Y. and then wind its way here much later.  You get the idea, right?
 
A woman behind the counter fished the letter out for me.  The letter turned out to be stamped.  And she helped me with my new address and key and even gave me some details on a box number that must be included with the address.  This woman has more patience than I sometimes can exhibit.  Case in point was waiting at the deli today for a sandwich.  Ten minute wait.  Yeah, there is still some N.Y. in me, I guess.  The “why not right now!” part of N.Y.  And I’m even from that slower place called “upstate”. 
 
Today was my good Postal Service experience.  Yesterday not so much.  Eight days since payday and still no check in the mail and I left instructions.  Maybe I should’ve suggested sending it UPS?  United Parcel got my “demo” CD to Dan Gaffney in less than 24 hours.  Wednesday night I telephoned my old Postal Service Supervisor.  He blamed the delay on Human Resources.  Yesterday H.R. blamed him.  This was my experience when still working there.  People always look to push any problem to someone else.  Maybe it’s just a N.Y. thing but it isn’t much fun waiting for a check, which will help with my move this weekend.  Late yesterday there was a hint someone had finally tracked down my money.  This followed a telephone call to a Congressman with oversight of USPS.  It required me to fill out a form.  It was faxed my way and then returned by fax. 
 
The Congressman probably has better things to do with his time than go looking for my check.  Credit his effort an A+ because I wasn’t always nice to him when I did a radio show in his District.  O.K., it was a N.Y. thing.  I wanted him to vote for drilling in Alaska and he didn’t listen.  Well, he listened to the snail darter crowd.  Those people aren’t from N.Y. but I think somewhere near Seattle. 
 
So I’ll someday, maybe soon, see a check from my former employer.  In the meantime the folks working for the Postal Service here impress me.  Maybe it’s a Delaware thing.  Walking down the street I stopped to ask directions to the P.O. from a couple of fellows working a Lion’s Club food stand.  It isn’t just that these folks are polite but that these folks are nice. 
 
I also saw it at the deli.  The people ahead of me all seem so bubbly. 
 
I’ll try and adopt the pose.  Once I’m finished un-packing. 

You heard it on Dan’s show this morning.  Catchy little ditty called “I’m from Delaware”, but no one knew who sang it.

Well his name is Todd Chappelle - a comedien/singer - and you can check out the song and more here - http://www.myspace.com/toddchappelle 

But there should be no excuse that the State of Delaware failed to order flags to be flown at half-staff on Patriot Day.  Since September 11, 2001, the president has made the proclamation annually which includes this section:

By a joint resolution approved December 18, 2001 (Public Law 107-89), the Congress has designated September 11 of each year as “Patriot Day.”

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim September 11, 2003, as Patriot Day. I call upon the people of the United States to observe this day with appropriate ceremonies and activities, including remembrance services and candlelight vigils. I also call upon the Governors of the United States and the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, as well as appropriate officials of all units of government, to direct that the flag be flown at half-staff on Patriot Day. In addition, I call upon all Americans to display the flag at half-staff from their homes on that day and to observe a moment of silence beginning at 8:46 a.m. eastern daylight time to honor the innocent victims who lost their lives as a result of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

Unfortunately, when dawn broke on September 11, 2007, Delaware’s flags were raised to full staff because there was no notification from Governor Minner to do otherwise.   That notice did finally arrive at WGMD at 10:57am! 

 

After the governor’s notice was received around the state - flags were lowered to half-staff.  Officials in the governor’s office say it was an oversight.  How can something that has been in the news for several weeks be an oversight?  How can such a horrific event that only occurred 6 years ago and is still fresh in most people’s memories be an oversight?  Troops from Delaware are currently in Iraq and Afghanistan, and 20 who are from Delaware or have ties to the First State who have died in the War on Terror - are they an oversight as well?

The text of the governor’s announcement would make you think that she indeed did take time to remember those who died on 9/11 and the Delawareans who have died since then in the War on Terror.  Somewhere, though, there was a disconnect between remembering and acting. 

As a state, we did remember those who died 6 years ago as the horror of 9/11 happened.  And we pray for them and their families, whose lives were changed forever.  As a result 20 other Delaware families have also had to deal with loss - and we remember them as well -

• Sgt Brian McGinnis, 23, St. George, DE - US Marines - Died 3-30-03 in Iraq
• Spc Ryan Long, 21, Seaford, DE - US Army - Died 4-3-03 in Iraq
• Spc Jarrett Thompson, 27, Dover, DE - US Army Reserve -  Died 9-7-03 in DC of injuries received in Iraq
• Lance Cpl Anthony Roberts, 18, Bear, DE - US Marines - Died 4-6-04 in Iraq
• Staff Sgt. Joseph Garyantes, 34, Rehoboth Beach, DE - US Army - Died 05-18-04 in Iraq
• Lance Cpl Russell White, 19, Dagsboro, DE - US Marines - Died 06-20-04 in Afghanistan
• Lance Cpl Richard Clifton, 19, Broadkill Beach, DE - US Marines - Died 02-02-05 in Iraq
• Cpl Stephen McGowan, 26, Newark, DE - US Army - Died 03-04-05 in Iraq
• Major Edward Murphy, 36, Newark, DE/S Carolina - US Army - Died 04-06-05 in Afghanistan
• Capt Ralph Harting, III, 28, Wilmington, DE & MI - US Army - Died 04-29-05 in Iraq
• Sgt. 1st Class Michael Egan, 36, New Castle, DE - Army National Guard - Died 09-19-05 in Iraq
• Sgt 1st Class James Moudy, 37, Newark, DE - US Army - Died 12-11-05 in Iraq
• Spc Prince Teewia, 27, NC & Newark, DE - US Army - Died 12-29-05 in Iraq
• Cpl Cory Palmer, 21, Seaford, DE - US Marines - Died 05-07-06 in Iraq
• Lance Cpl Richard James, 20, Seaford, DE - US Marines - Died 05-13-06 in Iraq
• Pfc Stephen Snowberger, 18, Bear, DE - US Army - Died 05-11-06 in Iraq
• Staff Sgt Darren Harmon, 44, Newark, DE - US Army Reserve - Died 06-03-06 in Iraq
• A1C Carl Ware, Jr, 22, Smyrna, DE - US Air Force - Died 07-01-06 in Iraq
• Sgt Keith Fiscus, 26, Townsend, DE - US Army - Died 12-02-06 in Iraq
• Sr Airman Elizabeth Loncki, 23, New Castle, DE – USAF - Died 01-07-07 in Iraq

 

You remember the early moving pictures of people leaping from flaming buildings.  Then the pictures stopped coming.  At some point on this date, 6 years ago, the dark suits at the major TV networks decided you shouldn’t see human tragedy taking place.  It was considered “intrusive”.  Within a few days HBO decided to stop promoting its mini-series, Band of Brothers, the story about heroic Americans fighting a bloody war.  A war the same Americans won.  I suppose you aren’t supposed to connect the dots and realize victory often requires bloodshed. 
 

That September morning was sunny in northern Vermont.  It’s where I was living and working as a TV News Director.  Tuesday morning was never one I looked forward to.  It was the scheduled weekly management meeting.  Lot’s of listening to my fellow department heads, all trying to manage my newsroom.  It may well be I was looking for an early exit from the meeting when a fellow walked in from Master Control and whispered to the Production Director.  Then they both left the room.  A few minutes later my production counterpart returned to explain the network would go long because a plane had struck the World Trade Centers. 
 

My mind remembered a story about a plane getting lost in fog and slamming into the Empire State Building way back in 1945.  Then I looked at the General Manager and he asked me if I needed to go.  I nodded and walked two floors below to the newsroom.  I managed to get there just in time to see jet number two come rolling into view.  It’s because I was looking at a bank of monitors from ABC and CNN.  Multiple views and chilling. 
 

The last of the dayside staff came straggling in and in a matter of minutes these people were back out the door to cover local angles.  Then I telephoned remaining staff.  Those I could locate agreed to come into the office. 
 

At least that’s how I think it all transpired as I watched smoke rising from the Pentagon.  It looked for a time, briefly, as if the Executive Office Building in Washington had also been hit.  I remember feeling as if I was witnessing the end of the world.  Somehow in those moments we got people out the door and to work and I never let on how my insides were a stew of emotions.  Fear certainly cropped into the mix.
 

Then the newsroom emptied and I was looking at the monitors.  About 15 of them.
All alone as if in a Twilight Zone episode with the world seemingly crumbling around me.  And the pictures. 
 

Photographers were zooming in and out and it was certainly possible to understand the emotion of the people standing in windows with flames lapping behind them.  One image is seared into memory like no other.
 

Four women were huddled on a window ledge…
 

They appeared to be praying…
 

Then they clutched hands and…
 

Stepping forward walked into eternity…
 

Somewhere that evening a wife, mother, sister, or daughter didn’t come home.  A child wondered why mommy wasn’t cooking dinner.  A husband struggled to get to the scene in hopes she was among the missing. 
 

Growing up I heard stories about people taking their own lives and in the news business have certainly encountered the depressed deciding to end it all.  This includes a person leaping from a bridge into highway traffic below.  Or suicide by cop.  Or those folks who downed aspirin and never woke from sleep.
 

Some churches refuse to bury the people making those kinds of choices but what of those women six years ago today?  It wasn’t likely the choice they made had anything to do with financial ruin or a broken relationship.  Those women were forced to make a decision about how they were going to die.  In flames or plummeting to earth. 
 

Don’t ask me what we’re fighting for or why.  I’ve simply had enough of that pap.  You needed to see the pictures.  You needed to see all of them. 
 

Franklin Roosevelt developed ideas about scrap drives to make the people back home feel as if they had a role in the war effort.  We only managed to get a few images and were instructed to go shopping.  It’s when my daughter asks me for the latest edition of some video game that I realize the difference. 
 

We haven’t made a commitment to victory and certainly not to four women faced with a choice none of us should ever be forced to make again.

I lit a candle outside…
trying to remember so many names……
remembering how many died……
and so many families left unsaid….
some still wishing for that one day to come…
they will get a call saying they found their loved one…
     (author unknown)

You can light a candle in memory to someone lost or loved - the candles will remain lit for 48 hours - just click on the candle   And remember all who have died in the war on terror, but especially your neighbors from Delaware and Maryland