Random Journal

Out of the blue. Everything is a core memory. As you get older, annoyances sometimes grow bigger and larger than life.

I hate when somebody calls me “sir”. I am not a “sir” or your knight in shining armour. I’m too damn old. And, “sir” makes me sound ordinary, like some guy quietly standing in line at the grocery store when I spent years grinding to become the interim president of Lionheart. Titles only matter if people understand the story behind them, and mine was built through long nights, radio noise, ambition, and believing in something bigger.

I was king of the Prime Radio Show once, or at least that’s how it felt when the signal was alive and everything connected. Ask Elvis — he would’ve understood the importance of rhythm, timing, and commanding the room. Those days may belong to the past now, but somewhere deep down, part of me still hears the broadcast echoing through the speakers. But it’s gotta be louder.

I’m sitting here banging away at my drums now, and honestly, I think I’ve gotten a lot better over time. The rhythm feels more natural, the timing feels sharper, and there’s something satisfying about just losing myself in the sound without worrying about anything. Every once in a while, a thought creeps into my mind that maybe I should get back into music production or start recording again, but deep down, I know I don’t want to, and I’m not going to get pulled back into that kind of work. There won’t be more books, there won’t be more sound recordings, or another long creative grind chasing dreams. These days, I’m happy just playing the drums for fun when the mood hits me, then sitting back in retirement with my record collection, enjoying the music without needing to turn it into anything more.

Today’s Top 5 Songs:

1. “Very Ape” by Nirvana ‧ 1993.
2. “Sometimes” by Pearl Jam ‧ 1996.
3. “Machu Picchu” by The Strokes ‧ 2011.
4. “Another Part of Me” by Michael Jackson ‧ 1987.
5. “Welcome to the Working Week” by Elvis Costello ‧ 1977.

Sometimes somebody says “Wow” or tells me they feel lucky, and I pause longer than most people probably would. My mind starts drifting through old frequencies, old symbols, and old ideas until I’m wondering whether it all somehow points toward WOW 87.7 FM, or LUCKY 108.9, or even Oswald the Lucky Rabbit hopping through the static of memory. I think too long about things sometimes, turning simple words into signals that feel connected to another world entirely.

Truthfully, it’s fun, but maybe I’m just searching for direction more than anything else. Maybe I’m looking for a program director somewhere out there, somebody who understands the strange rhythm of the Lionheart sound and can help guide me through it. There’s a frequency in my head that feels close to becoming clear, but every now and then the signal fades back into the noise before I can fully grab hold of it.