Maybe I'm Amazed (2026 edition)

On July 4, it will not only be America's birthday: it will be my husband's birthday too. America will be 250. My husband, Jon Jacobik, will be 80. Like me, my husband has aged gracefully-- I don't think either of us looks our chronological age. (I'm 79 and 1/2; he's a little older than me!) And while we've both had some health issues, as many older Americans do, we're both still able to work, and we're both still reasonably active. We've been married since 1987 (39 years), and we are still best friends. I never take that for granted. Jon repairs computers, but he is also an award-winning nature photographer; I'm a former deejay and a current professor, as well as an award-winning media historian. Our interests are often very different, but we care about each other's well-being and we want each other's happiness. 

When I was a kid, growing up in the 1950s, just about nobody that I knew lived into their 80s. I never met my maternal grandmother (who died when she was only 44). Quite a few of my female relatives died young-- often of cancer. (Years later, I too had cancer, but in my case, thanks to early detection, I'm still here -- 11 and 1/2 years later, and grateful every day.) But my point is, growing up, I thought someone who was 70 was "elderly." People didn't live as long as today; in fact, the common wisdom was everybody who reached age 70 would probably need a nursing home. Today, I know lots of folks in their 70s who don't fit that stereotype at all. They're still gainfully employed, still keeping busy, and still doing what they love -- including several guys from a certain Canadian rock band. 

The other day, the great comedian and movie director Mel Brooks turned 100. Mel is a perfect example of someone who is by most standards "old" yet he is still sharp, still active, still out there making a difference. I don't know too many folks who make it to 100 -- but I'm certainly grateful that Mel is still with us. He has made a lot of people laugh over the years. (Actress and comedian Betty White almost made it to 100 -- like Mel, she did things in her own unique way, and she had a love for life that was an inspiration. And getting to 99 is certainly an achievement.)

In a world where so much seems depressing and discouraging, I think it's important to remember that there are still some amazing things going on out there. For example, there are still people finding love when they never expected it: I was one of them. I got married when I was 40, which used to be considered "later in life." There are still people finding new opportunities and new careers: I currently teach online for Purdue University's Global campus, and most of my students are adult learners. They are in their 30s, 40s, and 50s, getting bachelor's degrees, and in some cases planning for master's degrees. I fit right in, given that I got my PhD when I was 64. In fact, many of us are redefining what it means to be "too old." (Ask Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson of Rush if they are "too old" to be touring...)

I find all of this amazing. And perhaps you do too. In fact, I invite you to share with me something that you find amazing in your own life, something you never expected, and yet it happened. I'm amazed I'm still blogging, to be honest. This little endeavor began as part of a course I was taking back in early 2015. The course ended but I just kept on blogging. I hope some of these posts are interesting. Meanwhile, for those who have continued to read what I write, may your life be filled with moments of joy, and may you never run out of things that amaze you -- after all, that sense of wonder and amazement is an important part of being alive.

The Spirit of Radio-- Still Alive and Worth Celebrating

Eddie Andelman died the other day at age 89. Unless you've lived in Boston, you probably never heard of him. But for nearly five decades, he was a major factor on sports-talk radio. He was opinionated, as a sports-talk host has to be, but he was also informative and entertaining. You wanted to argue with him, whether by calling in, or just by sitting there with your friends and weighing in on what he said. Eddie was also a larger than life personality, who made numerous appearances to raise money for charitable causes. He was live, he was local, and he was a walking ambassador for the importance of radio.

It has become a truism for people to say that radio no longer matters. They say it has nothing but political talk shows, or they say that only old people listen to it, or they say that nobody needs it anymore because you can get your music on Spotify or YouTube. There's an element of truth in some of this: a lot of older people DO listen to political talk on radio. And a lot of people DO get their music on Spotify or YouTube.

And yet, all over the US, radio is still a factor in many people's lives: it's a companion, a friend, a source of information, and yes, it's still a source for music. I recently did a freelance article for Radio World magazine, and I interviewed some program directors, music directors, and deejays at a variety of radio stations-- top 40, album rock, classic hits, alternative, adult contemporary... and they all said the same thing: if you create an interesting and fun radio station, if you maintain an active presence in your city (holding live events, making appearances, giving away merch), people will listen and they'll bond with that station. But don't take my word for it: let some of the folks I interviewed speak for themselves: Radio World "We Still Believe in Radio")

As many of you know, I spent four decades in broadcasting, including being a deejay and a music director in four major markets. At one of those stations, WMMS in Cleveland, I helped to launch the career of a then-unknown rock band named Rush. That happened in the spring and summer of 1974, and a lot has changed since then. Radio still used to be a dominant force in the 1970s and 1980s, and even into the 1990s; but these days, radio is just one of many ways to hear new music or get the weather or find out who won the big game. However, reports of radio's death have proved to be premature. 

Agreed, radio has much more competition, and maybe young teens don't choose radio like we did when I was growing up. But just like I wrote about, there are still many cities where people have a favorite station or a favorite deejay, and of course, my hope is that some of those stations are rediscovering a certain rock band that has reunited and is now back on tour. And I'm imagining a mom or a dad riding in the car with the kids, and a classic Rush song comes on the air and the kids hear it and ask "Who's that?" And their parents can say, "That's Rush. They just got back together. Maybe we can go see them." And perhaps a new generation of Rush fans will emerge, thanks to an old-school mass medium that is still around and worthy of some respect-- radio.