Showing posts with label rob oxford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rob oxford. Show all posts

Rob Oxford: High School Graduation

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

By Rob Oxford

First may I say... CONGRATULATIONS!... You did it!

12 years worth of homework, studying for pop quizzes, creating art projects, writing book reports, attending band and orchestra performances, choir concerts, school plays, and sitting through teacher conferences.

Yes Mom and Dad, you did it and you should be very proud of yourselves.

To merely say that time has flown by is the ultimate in understatements. Your baby and in our case first born, is about to receive their diploma. High School will soon be a distant memory, but hopefully a fond one.

Perhaps in some ways we are fortunate. My wife still has another 3 years of making sack lunches, signing permission slips and each morning attempting to wake a sleeping giant. Our youngest will be a Sophomore next year. For the most part we have succeeded. We did what we set out to do.

As parents we took on the responsibility of making sure our student understood the value of a good education. We offered guidance. We set limits. We administered punishment. We shared advice that sometimes fell on deaf ears. We encouraged respectful behavior. We warned against bullying. We demanded honesty. We taught acceptance. We spared no expense. We hoped for things that didn't always develop. We loved unconditionally and we did the very best we could.

To the parents of the Graduating Seniors of 2018 we say, "good job!" For they hold the promise. As cliché as it may sound, they are the future.

To the Graduating Seniors themselves and on behalf of your parents we say, "You're welcome. It has truly been our pleasure."

"Now go and do great things, we'll be watching."



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Poem - Photo - When It's Raining

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Rain
Photo copyright Marc Weinberg


When It's Raining by Rob Oxford

The world’s a different place when it’s raining
Can you tell from outer space that it’s raining?
Sometimes a race is "called" because it’s raining
But some games can still be played when it’s raining
(Like Checkers and Chess)

Worms will stick their necks out when it's raining
But then birds have them for lunch when it's raining
Puddles can be jumped in when it's raining
That’s why Moms get a bit cross when it's raining

Squirrels will run across your yard when it's raining
But have trouble dodging cars when it’s raining
You can stay dry but it's hard when it's raining
It just depends on where you are when it’s raining

The rain makes funny sounds when it's raining
It kind of ricochets off the ground when it’s raining
For 40 Days and 40 Nights it kept on raining
But in the rain, Marines still train when it’s raining

My Dad said the fish like to bite when it’s raining
But when they don’t, let me tell you it gets boring
It’s hard to fly a kite when it’s raining
Because you can’t look up into the sky when it’s raining

There are big drops, there are small drops 
And a rainbow when the rain stops
But I like the rain

And I like what it brings 
Because I know that it brings

New life to things



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Rob Oxford: Just...Let It Go!

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Stuff and treasures crowd the bookshelves
Photo by Rob Oxford
By Rob Oxford

It's that time of year again. Time to clean out those attics and closets.

Time to spend an afternoon pricing items you know you'll sell for much less than marked.

Time to make signs that will hopefully attract attention and most likely, remain stapled to telephone poles around the neighborhood for weeks afterward.

Lastly, it's time to place an ad online... only to find that the weather has changed and Steve Poole now says "showers possible... could be heavy at times".

Ahhh, Spring Cleaning in the Pacific Northwest. Time for a Garage Sale.

First of all does anyone actually know the difference between a Garage Sale and a Yard Sale. Can I not sell items I keep in my garage at a yard sale? Thusly, do I have to have everything in my yard for it to be a.... yard sale or can I sell some items I have in my garage?

Regardless, the hardest part of having any kind of sale is deciding what needs to go, right? You know you can use the extra space. Stuff has been piling up for years and you could definitely use some extra cash. Some people have an incredible aversion to holding garage sales and Goodwill is extremely grateful to them. After all, it is a lot of work and not always worth the time and effort. But why not make a little extra money off those "treasures" of yours if you can?

Personally, I love a good garage sale. They're like giant magnets and I'm wearing a leisure suit made of steel. Which is precisely why I have so much extra stuff of my own that needs getting rid of in the first place. But every couple of years you have to pull the trigger and decide what stays and what goes.

I have to admit, I am a "Collector". I collect a lot of things, music, entertainment and sports memorabilia mostly. But I also "save" just about everything.

A baseball from the first T ball Team I ever coached. A guitar I cut out of cardboard for my son Taylor when he was 3.

Jars full of rocks taken from beaches we have visited as a family. Every baseball hat and jersey my son Robbie wore during his years with North King County Little League.

Even a piece of wood from a window off of "Old Mother Hubbard's" house from the now defunct Never Never Land at Point Defiance Park. A remnant from a place that holds many memories and a place I visited many times as a child now sits on the desk from whence I write these articles.

I'm sure you're familiar with the phrase, "you can't take it with you"? Well, I'm sure as heck gonna try. But seriously, how do you decide what to keep and what to sell in a garage sale?

This tool will absolutely be essential some time
Photo by Rob Oxford
I can't count how many times in the past I've thrown something away as insignificant as a grommet or given it to a secondhand store only to wish a few months later that I still had it.

“Now, what did I do with that grommet?”

When it comes to items of a sentimental nature, I am the worst. As an Army Brat growing up, we moved around a lot.

Things got left behind or mysteriously disappeared in the dead of night. Bicycles were "inherited" by neighbor kids, baseball card collections were "donated" and sadly sometimes photo albums were simply lost.

This may explain why I take so many pictures, have shelves of scrapbooks and why my kids roll their eyes every time I reach for my phone to snap a photo. I can't help it, I just love memories.

But remember this, when your ticket to the big dance is finally punched, someone (most likely your children) is going to have to sort through all those precious keepsakes with which you couldn't bear to part and most likely they won't have a clue as to why.

So, save them the headache and just... let it go, let it go.

P.S. If that song from "Frozen" is stuck in your head after reading this article...

(laughs hysterically)



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Rob Oxford: Moms Rock It! (not to be confused with the band)

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Rob and his mother
By Rob Oxford

I was sitting at a red light downtown recently and gracefully making her way across the street in front of me was an expectant mother. If I were to guess and it would be nothing more than that, she was well into her pregnancy.

She appeared to be a professional, confidently carrying herself and her child. Stylish in her business clothes and elegant, she had that "glow" that comes with a pending birth.

I'm not certain as to why, but I immediately flashed back to when my wife was pregnant. Minutes later I was in a commercial load zone calling the Mother of my 2 boys.

I owed her an apology.

I don't know why the sight of this particular Mom-To-Be initiated a sudden desire to reflect, but it did. I realized right then and there that even though I read the books, attended the vast majority of doctor appointments, assembled the crib, shopped for baby clothes, made special trips to the store for Sour Patch Kids and was by her side the day both my sons were born, she had done it all ... and she did it on her own. I was merely a spectator with a front row seat.

There have been countless stand up routines about fatherhood, mine is not a unique tale and although some of what I have to say may be humorous, it is meant to be a sincere acknowledgement that my wife - and all Moms for that matter - are amazing.

They are the ones whose bodies are changing. They are the ones with the strange cravings. They are the ones whose feet swell. They feel the back pain. They are the ones who have trouble sleeping. They are the ones solely responsible for carrying a child to term and as in the case of my wife, they are the ones put on "bed rest" who must deal with the inability to naturally give birth to a 9lb. 15oz. child with a big head.

The Oxford family bringing baby Robbie
home from the hospital
Let us also not forget about the roller coaster of emotions she is experiencing. It's not just the physical challenges, but the psychological fact that she really is turning into her mother.

Which is not in any way to suggest this is a bad thing, it's simply a fact. She will be forever more responsible for a life other than her own. At least until that equally painful day when she must allow her beautiful baby bird to leave her nest.

When his wife is expecting, a husband tends to think more about the future instead of the present. Asking himself what he feels are the important questions. 

Can we afford another mouth to feed? Am I going to be getting enough sleep? Will he grow up to be a pro athlete? How long will it be before we can have relations again?

Dads, if your wife is expecting, be it your first, second, who knows - maybe it's your sixth child, it's never too late to pay Mom the respect she so deserves. I know you're working long hours and the lawn needs mowing. I know your favorite neighbor has a new big screen and the Mariners are off to a great start, but this is your time to shine. Don't forget to call her throughout the day, offer to bring home dinner, surprise her with flowers, remember to put the toilet seat down, but most importantly don't take any candid photos unless you okay it with her first.



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Rob Oxford: Laurie - Made of Light and Love

Monday, May 7, 2018

Laurie and Rob (left) with Randy and Tim Bachman of Bachman Turner Overdrive
and Tom Johnston of The Doobie Brothers

Made of Light and Love
By Rob Oxford

Have you ever met someone so incredibly full of positivity that it actually irritates you? Someone so full of love that just being around them makes YOU uncomfortable? For reasons which at the time I was ill-prepared to understand, Laurie Michaels was that person. Laurie Michaels IS that person.

I know, why would someone have a problem with "positivity" and "love"? I'm still working on the answer to that question.

I met Laurie when I took my first morning show job in Denver. We worked for the same company, but at different stations. I would sometimes rely on her for rides to and from work which she was always willing to provide. What made it even more interesting was that her husband Joey produced the morning show that was in fact my direct competition. Eventually Joey and I would work together for a short time before I was unceremoniously booted out of town.

Rob, Laurie and Brad Cash of KISM in Bellingham
 

Fast forward 10 years to Bellingham, WA. The radio show I was hosting was in desperate need of a female co-host and after several potential candidates had fizzled out, I contacted Laurie to see if she was interested in auditioning. The connection was instant and the situation was ideal. Laurie and Joey had been looking to relocate back to the Pacific Northwest where she had lived and worked previously and where they still had family. What made it even more perfect was that Joey was able to hire on at the same company.

To try to describe Laurie in mere words is an impossibility. Bubbly, funny, clever, smart, beautiful, witty, affectionate, caring, honest, loving ... those all fit, but fail miserably in describing her adequately. Laurie is, in using words with which she often described others, an "Earth Angel". One of her favorite sayings, which from time to time I find myself using on air in her honor is "Open up, dive in and be free".

Laurie is illuminating!

10 years ago Laurie and Joey were preparing to welcome their second child. After experiencing several episodes of Diplopia or Double Vision, it was suggested that Laurie undergo an MRI. It was during that examination that a brain aneurysm was discovered. The decision was then made to induce labor and have Laurie give birth to her daughter prematurely.

The hope was that with the pregnancy out of the way, doctors could concentrate on addressing the aneurysm, therefore minimizing the possibility of causing harm to mother or baby. I'm not privy to all of the details involved in trying to save Laurie's life while at the same time bringing into the world her beautiful daughter Ella, but I do know that she has now endured years of tremendous pain and discomfort. Through of all of this, Laurie continues to maintain an incredibly positive outlook on life.

Rob, with Laurie in the hospital
The first time I went to visit Laurie in the hospital I was nervous, apprehensive, even afraid. All for selfish reasons, I should add, and for which I was ashamed.

I wasn't sure what to expect. Would she want to see me? Would we be able to communicate? Would my presence open old wounds? Would I be able to keep it together? I wasn't thinking of what she had been going through at all.

I could only think of our last day together on air and how difficult I had made our working relationship. By that time I had as they say, "checked out". By no fault of her own, Laurie had landed in a situation involving a disgruntled radio station employee who had far too many issues of his own with which he needed to deal.

Regardless, upon my stepping into the room, the smile that overcame Laurie's face was one I had missed for a very long time. I was overjoyed at her reaction. I proceeded to set up my "Boom Box" and together we listened to an air check of one of our shows. We laughed ... and I was so glad I had come to visit.

At the mere mention of Laurie's name, fans and friends alike begin singing her praises loudly. There is, as I have said, no one quite like her. They talk about her sense of humor, her "laugh" (which is unmistakable and often accompanied by a "snort"), her kindness, and most of all her love of life. It is a common theme.

Many surgeries and struggles since, Laurie now resides in a residential home where she needs care 24 hours a day. Much of that care is provided by Hannah Olsen Ellis who not only happens to be Laurie's Caregiver, but has been a close family friend for many years. In addition to assisting Laurie, Hannah has also graciously accepted the responsibility of providing much of the guidance and support so desperately needed by a 10 year old girl whose own Mother is doing all she can to simply stay alive and whose Father must continue to work in order to take care of the finances needed to provide for his family.

During my last visit Laurie said that she "didn't know why she was still here, but that there had to be a reason?" With tears welling up in my eyes I said the first thing that came to my mind; "You're still here becasue your family needs you. You're still here to inspire people like me to live better lives and to appreciate all that we have been given."

I am certain I will never again meet someone like Laurie Michaels Teehan Johansen, but it is my sincerest wish that someday, if you're lucky ... you will.

I would like to thank Laurie, Joey, son Tommy and daughter Ella for allowing me to share their story with you and humbly ask that if able, a charitable gift or donation can be made to UW Medicine / Harborview Medical Center in her honor at this link.


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Rob Oxford: "We Can Be Heroes" (David Bowie)

Monday, April 16, 2018

Eric Johnson
KOMO Sportscaster
By Rob Oxford

You've heard the saying, "It takes one to know one"? Well, KOMO's Eric Johnson knows a lot of heroes and he's been introducing them to us since 1994.

In the beginning they were just pint-size and believe it or not, his extremely popular feature "Eric's Little Heroes" began out of desperation.

As Eric explained to me recently, it was another "slow news day" in Portland. He was a sportscaster at the time and there wasn't a whole lot going on that lazy summer day. 

Nonetheless he needed a story. He'd seen a group of kids playing T-Ball nearby and suggested to his then cameraman Cory Long, to go over to the field and shoot some footage. What was captured on that video would turn out to be pure gold.

Kids running to third instead of first, gloves being worn on their heads instead of their hands, watching a shortstop who doesn't realize a slow grounder just rolled between his legs.

We've seen it all before, especially if you're the parent of a very young athlete. But what made this special was the commentary that accompanied the video, Eric's own professional... "play by play".

He described it as "watching children through the eyes of a sports announcer, expecting to see how an adult (or seasoned athlete) would react... it becomes comedy". Combined with the beautifully edited video and witty dialogue, the result was "some really funny stuff". The best part he realized, "this stuff happens all the time".

24 years later Eric would admit to this writer, ("Eric's Little Heroes")... literally "made my career in Seattle".

I've met Eric Johnson and I confessed to Eric that HE is one of MY heroes. Warm, compassionate, able to handle his celebrity with style and grace, Eric seems genuinely interested in meeting his viewers.

Unfortunately there are many "celebrities" who can't and would simply rather not. He explained that he's "a person first... I'm still going to be who I am when it's all over". Eric enjoys engaging with people and loves hearing that someone "likes what he does."

A graduate of Washington State, Eric attended the prestigious Edward R. Murrow College of Communication and knew at age 10 exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up.

He says he was watching the Rams and Vikings on Monday Night Football and was captivated by the great Howard Cosell. High School Radio, College Radio and some 40 or so Regional Emmy Awards later (not to sound flippant, but he's lost count), he couldn't be happier.

He's worked for and with some of the truly greats in our region, Bruce King, Dan Lewis, Kathi Goertzen, and Bob Rondeau to name just a few.

Married with 2 children, Eric somehow manages to write music and tinker with his antique car when time allows.

In 2006, "Eric's Little Heroes" was discontinued. Fortunately for Seattle, two years of viewers asking why and confessing it was "their favorite segment" on the air, a newly appointed News Director brought it back. A very wise decision, if I may be so bold.

Eric has broadened the focus of his award-winning segment in an effort to encapsulate more of what surrounds us. He says "People feel disconnected" these days. There's too much focus on the negative.

He thought to himself "how many terrible people do I know... none." He'd ask his friends the same question and "the answer was always the same... none". Then why do we just hear stories about the bad guys? Great question. "Eric's Heroes" is his gift to his KOMO audience, "stories about the little things that people can all relate to" like, "The Sweeping Angel", "The Renegade Rooster" and Shoreline's "Walking Man".

Before I could conclude my interview, Eric had a question of his own. It was actually a request, "Next time you're on KZOK could you play a little more Beach Boys?" Eric is all about giving and receiving those "Good Vibrations".

He also wanted to make sure that I knew about his "team" without whom he could "not do his job". Eric sang the praises of his Producer Joan Kinsey, "the organization to his disorganization", his Cameraman Doug Pigsley whom he called "the very best" and Editor Darrin Tegman... together they are "all the legs of the table."

Final Question: "When your career is over and you're kicking back on one of the Galapagos Islands with one of those umbrella drinks in your hand (at which he laughed and said "yeah that's me"), what do you want people to remember about Eric Johnson?

"I would feel I had a successful career if the stories I shared with my viewers reminded them that deep down we all have the ability to be compassionate human beings". I'd like them to say, "That dude could tell a story".

If you know of a hero Eric should feature on KOMO TV, submit your ideas heroes@komonews.com



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Rob Oxford: Kevin O'Brien - Run Of A Kind

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Rob Oxford
By Rob Oxford

Have you ever wondered to yourself why a seemingly normal individual would wake up early on a Sunday morning, don a pair of Lyrca spandex, lace up their sneakers and voluntarily run 26.2 miles or for our Canadian readers, 42 kilometers? I mean aren't Sunday mornings for sleeping late or going to church?

I realize that for runners a marathon can be a spiritual experience, but this article isn't about former high school or college track stars or people with 8% body fat. This isn't about a respectable finish time of under 4 hrs.

This is about the over 60 and 70 year olds I see, bound and determined to prove something to themselves. This is about the hundreds of overweight men and woman whom at first glance one might think; they have no business running a marathon. This article is about those people. The ones who may start off running a marathon, but often finish it by walking and regardless of how long it takes... finish! Have you ever finished a marathon? I haven't.

Moreover, this article is about a gentlemen I met recently while working the Hot Chocolate Run in Seattle, a 15K Fun Run to benefit Make-A-Wish. His name is Kevin O'Brien and he's from Fairbanks, Alaska. The company I work for is responsible for implementing traffic plans that allow runners like Kevin to use city streets safely for a few hours a couple of times a year.

Granted, sometimes at an inconvenience to motorists, but if you could have witnessed Kevin during the Hot Chocolate Run, I guarantee you'd be less likely to get annoyed by a minor Sunday morning detour or a traffic backup.

Kevin has Cerebral Palsy.

From the cozy confines of my work truck I could see the runners as they approached. Groups of 3 or 4 in colorful shirt and short combos, some in custom running apparel, all with their official registration numbers proudly pinned to their bodies.

At this point in the race, some were already walking, but not Kevin. Wearing blue jeans and a short sleeve casual shirt, Kevin was still running. Albeit slowly and with a pronounced limp, but definitely running.

As he got closer I shouted "You're a stud dude", it was spur of the moment and all I could come up with, but I meant it. I was captivated. He gave me a thumbs up and as he passed by I said something else like, "you make fat guys like me look bad". To that he smiled.

I wanted to know more about this young man so I waited. I waited for him to run up the hill and then back down. I knew that I had to get his story. So, when Kevin was once again in sight I jogged toward him and introduced myself, quickly gave him my card and asked him to call me. He did so later that evening.

Kevin is a 30 year old electrical apprentice and was in town to take the aptitude test for the IBEW. He hopes to find employment here in Seattle and when I asked him why he wasn't wearing the normal running attire most serious runners wear, he told me he had no idea about the run and just decided to take part.

Because he wasn't officially registered and during the race "drank some of their water", afterward Kevin asked a volunteer if he could make a donation of $20. That's the type of guy Kevin is. The volunteer gladly accepted.

Kevin went on to tell me that when running, at least for a short time, he feels less of the affects of his disease. He added there are "too many distractions in this world" and that running allows him to "get out and enjoy his surroundings".

Kevin is working on a documentary he hopes to release about running the Equinox Marathon last year in Fairbanks. It is said to be the third hardest marathon because of its altitude differential of 1500 ft. Kevin completed the course (26.2 miles) in 13 hours 10 minutes.

During our conversation I asked Kevin if while running, people treat him differently? "Do people cheer you on or say anything while you're running?" He said "Yes" and that it's sometimes "overwhelming" and "difficult to interact", depending on his level of exhaustion at the time.

I also wondered what it was like growing up with Cerebral Palsy. Was he picked on in school? Did he have a lot of friends? Kevin said that when he was little "he had to ride the short bus" and that "most of the kids on there had anger management problems".

They were among his earliest friends and when he got into middle school and beyond, "nobody messed with those kids", therefore "nobody messed with me". Just one of the many benefits of growing up in a small town like Fairbanks I guess.

Although deep inside I already knew the answer, I had to ask Kevin what he wanted people to take from his participating in marathons and his love of running in general. "I want people to know that no matter their physical abilities or inabilities, if I can do this they can too."

I'm pretty sure I made a new friend in Kevin O'Brien. I know that my life is enriched for just having met him.



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Rob Oxford: The Boys are Back in Town

Friday, March 30, 2018

Rob Oxford is ready for baseball
Cue Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back In Town". It's Opening Day 2018 and King Felix is on the mound.

The Mariners hosted the Cleveland Indians Thursday at Safeco Field and just like every year, they start the season off tied for first and with great expectations. Could this be the year? Scott Servais is back as Skipper. Mel Stottlemeyer Jr. returns as Pitching Coach and Edgar Martinez, who must wait another year to be inducted into the Hall of Fame, promises to get the most out of each players plate appearance. 

Although he joined us late and struggled during Spring Training in Peoria, Ichiro is back where it all started and joining him are fan favorites Robinson Cano, Nelson Cruz, Kyle Seager and Mike Zunino. The talk of Spring Training has to be the big bat of Daniel Vogelbach, who's 7 HR and 15 RBI's lead the team and earned him the nickname "Vogelbomb". His 3 run shot against the Rockies sealed a win for the M's during their last game down in Arizona.

Another exciting addition to the squad is Centerfielder Dee Gordon who's guaranteed to throw out plenty of runners looking for extra bases. MLB Veteran Scott Brosius will make his debut waving runners around 3rd and Taylor Motter (currently assigned to the Tacoma Rainiers) and Ben Gamel who could easily be mistaken for a Heavy Metal rhythm section with their signature locks, will hopefully get plenty of action in the infield and outfield respectively.

Finally as is the case every year, the pitching seems to be the teams biggest concern. With David Phelps and Erasmo Ramirez both on the 10 Day DL., the M's will again pin much of their hopes on "Big Maple" James Paxton, Edwin Diaz and newly acquired free agent LHP Wade LeBlanc.

Saturday's 1:10 start will be the first opportunity to add to your Bobblehead collection with Robinson Cano Bobblehead Day. So oil up your glove, don't forget your hoodie and I'll meet you at the corner of Edgar and Dave.

(The Mariners edged the Indians, 2-1, on Opening Day at Safeco Field.)



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Rob Oxford: Thank you, Richard Sherman

Sunday, March 18, 2018

Richard Sherman in game against the Arizona Cardinals
Photo courtesy NFL
By Rob Oxford

Putting your thoughts and personal opinions on paper, or in this case online, for anyone to read, will always be a gamble.

The simple fact is not everyone is going to agree with you, but that's ok. 

How boring of an existence if we all thought and acted the same? 

Politics, sports, fashion, music, comedy, we all have different tastes.

I love Will Ferrell. I have friends who don't think he's funny. What do they know? I like Heavy Metal and I loathe New Country, but what do I know? Movie reviews, not interested. Fashion sense, I have none. However I do like the look of a well tailored suit.

Recently the Seattle Seahawks released two of my favorite players, Michael Bennett and Richard Sherman. Michael left town with barely a whisper. Signed by the Philadelphia Eagles, some will simply say, "He's their headache now".

Michael was an outspoken individual and his time in Seattle was not without controversy. He missed training camp while hoping to renegotiate his contract, protested racial injustice by refusing to stand for the Nation Anthem and most recently, after an incident at a nightclub, accused Las Vegas Police of racial profiling. Many are glad he is gone.

Richard was an original member of the Legion of Boom. A 5th round draft pick, #25 for your Seahawks was also outspoken, provocative, at times too cocky for me, but one heck of a Lockdown Corner. 

The two of them are a big part of why we as Seahawk fans enjoyed a 43 - 8 blowout of the Denver Broncos in Super Bowl XLVIII and why if you're a football fan, for the past seven years have looked forward to Sundays with great anticipation.

Who among us doesn't recall the lean years of Seahawk Football. I'll admit that at times I was uninterested in watching what would inevitably end up being one for the "loss" column. For many years the Seahawks lacked personality or at least the type of "personalities" needed to win football games. We were the nice guys of the AFC.

We had The Boz ... yawwwn. We had Rick Mirer ... who? We also had Zorn to Largent, who by the way are still nice guys. But the teams who won Championships had Jack Lambert (Steelers), Randy White (Cowboys), Bill Romanowski (49'ers), all considered to be mean and sometimes dirty players.

In 1999 the Seahawks hired 3x Super Bowl winning coach Mike Holmgren and things quickly started to take shape. Then a few years after being cheated, yes I said cheated, out of Super Bowl XL, Pete Carroll was hired. No stranger to controversy himself, he and GM John Schneider set about drafting what would soon become one of the most dominating Defenses in the NFL and the 12's went nuts!

So many tense moments, so many great games, Sports Illustrated cover stories, national headlines, Blue Fridays, Seahawk tattoos, I even know a guy who purchased his own Super Bowl ring. Seattle was once again on the map and whom for that can we thank? In this writer's opinion, Michael Bennett, Richard Sherman, Kam Chancellor, Cliff Avril, of course Russell Wilson and a whole host of other Hawks.

So it bothers me when I see negative comments hurled at players like Richard who have been "let go" by their employer only to be offered contracts soon after by the competition.

I'm certain Richard Sherman is grateful for the opportunity to play football for the 12's.

I'm positive he would have preferred to end his career where it all started and I would imagine his comments about "sticking it" to the Seahawks probably wouldn't have been made had those fans who are bitter not taken his decision to move on so personally.

The casual onlooker forgets all to quickly that professional football is a business. As a savvy businessman I'm confident Mr. Sherman has set himself up financially and probably doesn't need to collect another paycheck for the rest of his life.

After all, he graduated from Stanford. But who among us would turn down 40 million dollars to play a game we love?

As in radio (my profession for the past 27 years) changes are made quite often. Sometimes immediately after being named "Denver's Best DJ". Radio, too, is a business and after being fired from a station for whom I'd worked diligently for several years, the local newspaper asked me why I took a job the very next day with the competition "across the street"? My reply; "My wife has this nasty habit of needing to eat"

Thank you Richard, good luck and Go Hawks!


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Rob Oxford: My Neighborhood, Mr. Rogers would be proud

Saturday, March 10, 2018

Rob's rescued rose bushes
Photo by Rob Oxford
By Rob Oxford

As a child I watched Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. Mostly because it was one of very few programs I was permitted to watch. Mr. Rogers taught me the value of sharing, of being kind, caring, respectful and he taught me to always hang up my sweater.

Although he had passed before I had the opportunity to speak to him personally, I was fortunate to have on my radio show Fred Rogers' wife Joanne and David Newell aka Mr. McFeely. Both were wonderful guests and both believed very strongly in the message Fred Rogers tried to convey.

We've been living on the same street, in the same house, for the past 19 years and when I am asked while conducting business, "is that your permanent address?", I always reply "....until they carry me out in a pine box." That is, of course, if this is where I am lucky enough to take my final breath.

My wife and I moved into our home when our son Taylor was one of very few babies on the street. For the most part we were surrounded by retirees, newlyweds, families with toddlers or teenagers and dear old Mrs. DeKoekkoek. A sweet lady with an immaculately landscaped yard. Mrs. DeKoekkoek was widowed and walked her dog every day. She would always wave and say hello as she passed by, sometimes stopping to comment on the progress we were making on our home.

Our house had been a rental property for many years before we purchased it and we've put much work into making it our own. I wish we'd taken more photos of its transformation, but 19 years ago, we had not yet gone digital and one still needed to have film "processed." So, we have several photo albums filled with memories, but at some point everything started being "uploaded" to Facebook.

Behind us sat one of the last remaining original homesteads in Shoreline. Originally a rather large farm, what was once a home now had unfortunately become a dilapidated old shack. It was hard to imagine it as a home in its then current condition, but it had been and I'm sure many great memories had been made there as well.

Walking by one day during the Spring I noticed a hint of red peering out from underneath a tall clump of grass. It was a rose bush. A climbing rose, obviously planted with intent. As I began to paw around through the tall grass I noticed a few more, evenly spaced, and in a row. Because the house had not seen any attention for a very long time and because I love roses, I went home to get my shovel.

I knew that the property had been sold recently and that a demolition crew would soon begin clearing the land. In addition, I figured that the last thing a contractor would have on his mind was worrying about transplanting a few malnourished rose bushes.

Honestly I was surprised that without any fertilizer or plant food it had even survived. I carefully dug up the five bushes and am happy to report that they are flourishing on the side of my house, mere feet from where they were initially planted many years before.

Today there are dozens of young children running up and down in front of our home. Yelling, laughing, jumping, skipping, selling lemonade during the summer and selling Girl Scout cookies door to door. We know most, if not all of our neighbors and because new families are moving in all of the time, if we don't know them now we soon will. The "Block Parties" and "Neighborhood Night Outs" have enabled us to become closer to those with whom we share a common interest, the safety and sanctity of where we choose to reside.

I strongly believe it is vitally important to be involved in your community and to help make it safe for all.

Since living here I have personally prevented a boat from being stolen, literally catching the thieves in the act. I have reported to police several vehicles abandoned on the side of my house that it turned out had been stolen and I've also turned away dozens of solicitors without the proper identification required to be knocking on any of our doors. These are our homes.

I've heard people say a person like me is being "nosey", that I should "mind my own business" and "not get involved" and that's fine. But this is my community, this is "our" neighborhood and now I'm the guy walking his dog, waving and commenting on the progress you're making on your home.

I hope you'll wave back.


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Rob Oxford: Hoping for Real Change

Sunday, March 4, 2018


Steven with Rob on a street corner in Westlake
By Rob Oxford

We've all seen them, standing in front of the grocery store or on a street corner, selling what appears to be some sort of newspaper.

Occasionally, some of us will purchase one and sometimes read it, most likely out of guilt.

Some, I have learned, will purchase it and "use it to line the birdcage".

Others will avoid eye contact, pretend not to hear the greeting of "Real Change Newspaper today, Sir?" and still some will go so far as to walk out of their way to use another entrance instead of simply saying "No thank you, not today".

I admit it, I've done all of the above (although I don't have a bird), but not anymore. Why? Because I was blessed with the opportunity to educate myself.

A couple of weeks ago I took part in a very special event at Westlake Center Downtown. As a member of the media (KZOK Radio) I was asked by my friend Shelley Dooley, Managing Director for REAL CHANGE if I'd be interested in helping their vendors sell the REAL CHANGE Newspaper during the lunch hour on Wednesday. I was excited to do so for several reasons. I like meeting new people, I wanted an insiders look at REAL CHANGE and how it goes about making a difference and finally, if a friend needs my help, they're going to get it.

Let me preface by saying I am not a fan of "sign holders". Those individuals who stand on a street corner, holding a cardboard sign sometimes with a catchy phrase or outlandish statement written on it, hoping for your spare change. Everyone has a talent, everyone can do something. I understand there are plenty of mitigating factors as to why someone is homeless or jobless, but in my humble opinion and this may sound harsh, one must at least first try to help themselves before they can expect help from others. REAL CHANGE Vendors are businessmen and women. They are in essence entrepreneurs. They're selling a product. It's called "REAL CHANGE" and the name of this paper describes the effect it hopes to have on its Vendors.

I was paired up with a gentlemen named Steven. Steven is from Florida, he has no family to speak of and after what was a long recovery from an assault by two men that left him in a coma and eventually with permanent brain damage, moved to Seattle to start again. He is currently going to school studying Health Care Administration, receives public housing from Seattle Housing Authority, works at both Safeco and Century Link Fields and spends 20 hours a week selling "REAL CHANGE". A nicer, more pleasant human I have not met in quite some time.

Steven has been selling REAL CHANGE since 2010 and absolutely loves it. Like me he likes meeting new people and looks forward to weekly visits from his "regulars". Yes, Steven has customers who buy their paper from him (and only him) every week. He greets them with a smile, will sometimes make a joke, ask them what kind of articles they like to read and as they walk away tell them to "enjoy the crossword puzzle" and he's not ashamed to tell you that some of them are "big tippers".

It's surprising how many people are unfamiliar with REAL CHANGE and its mission. I came to the event with a long list of questions I wanted to ask. Only a few got answered, but enough for me to know that REAL CHANGE as Steven put it, is "a hand up not a hand out". I'd heard that phrase before, it's been used by other non-profits, but last Wednesday I saw this concept first hand.

When I asked another Vendor what he felt was the "biggest misconception people have about him", he responded that "they think we're all on drugs". Although it is true that some vendors are currently using drugs and alcohol, the same can be said for any number of employees working 9 - 5's in any number of other occupations. The Directors at REAL CHANGE ask that their independent contractors be sober when they're selling, but sadly at times, they are not. Therefore it becomes a delicate balance between "employment, "social work" and a lot of "professional development". As a precaution, the organization won't sell papers to someone who is obviously unfit to sell and considering without product they have nothing to sell, the situation often takes care of itself.

Real Change is designed to cater to those they serve and the articles are contributed by award-winning and nationally recognized writers. But this article isn't about them or the paper itself, for that you'll have to purchase a copy.

This article is about the men and women who buy the paper for .60 and sell it to you for $2.00. That's roughly 70% pure profit going straight to the Vendor. This article is about people dealing with adversity. This article is about you and me if we refuse to acknowledge those who are genuinely trying to better their own situations. This article is about a man who'll "never say no to a sandwich or cup of coffee" from someone unwilling to buy the paper, but willing to make a new friend. This article is about people who want to be and deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.

So as a favor to me, Steven, all of the REAL CHANGE Vendors and to yourself, the next time you see a REAL CHANGE Vendor, you don't necessarily have to buy a paper from them, instead simply acknowledge their presence, smile and say "Hello".

I can guarantee you that regardless as you pass by Steven, he'll wish you a "Happy Day!"



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Rob Oxford: Am I tired of Winter? The answer is...SNOW

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Rob's son, sledding down a Shoreline street
By Rob Oxford

I must confess to being a bit puzzled by the reaction to wintry weather here in the Puget Sound.

In particular ... snow.

I for one welcome the occasional accumulation of frozen rain. I like the way it looks as it's falling from the sky.

I like the big, fat, fluffy flakes. The ones large enough to actually appreciate their individual uniqueness.

I like the way it builds up on the branches of the trees, on the fence posts, on the hoods of parked cars and the silence it can bring. I like to see children building snowmen, Dads pulling sleds and Moms who surprise you at the door with hot chocolate.

When the neighborhood is blanketed in white, traffic stops, and dogs don't bark. Home improvement projects have to be postponed and hopefully, at least for the kids, school is cancelled. I suppose for some a snow day is an inconvenience, but they happen so infrequently.

Quite often after what most in our neck of the woods will consider a devastating accumulation of 2" to 3", one will find themselves at the grocery store stocking up on life-saving supplies like a snow shovel and chili. Then, like clockwork, someone in line behind you will say; "I'm from the Midwest and believe me, this isn't snow" and honestly it's not. It's likely that before you remember that you left the shovel in the trunk, the snow will have melted.

If this were Chicago, Dubuque, Cheyenne, Cleveland or a million other places, I could understand being tired of snow in February, but we get so little. Yes, if you have to drive in the snow it can be nerve-racking. But seriously, isn't driving around Seattle in the middle of Summer just as nerve-racking? And don't get me started on studded tires. If you're not driving from Shoreline to Ellensburg on a weekly basis, you don't need them.

Spring is just around the corner, as is the rain. So the next time you hear the weatherman say "there's a chance of snow with the possibility of some accumulation", enjoy it, embrace it and be thankful you don't live in Ithaca.

Yours Truly,

Yukon Cornelius



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Rob Oxford: Help Dad? vs. Help, Dad!

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Rob Oxford
Help Dad? vs. Help, Dad!
By Rob Oxford

Sometimes it's hard to admit but I was very much the Prodigal Son. The youngest of three boys, both my brothers joined the service out of high school. Both were platoon leaders and both graduated as top cadets of their respective units. 

Now how was I supposed to compete with that?

I didn't even join the service. I was close, I took the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery), passed the physical examination, I even met with a counselor to determine the direction in which I wanted to head, but sadly when it came time to take the oath, I chickened out. I'm not proud of it, it would have been good for me I'm sure, but that was 40 years ago.

My Father, on the other hand, was career military. That's what you did in 1937, you went to college or you defended your country. He defended his country. He worked hard his whole life and I admired him, but we knocked heads. That's what you did in 1977.

Growing up we were assigned chores. We made our beds with hospital corners before going to school every day, washed our own dishes, folded our own clothes, dusted furniture, took out the trash, the usual. We also worked outside in the yard. I believe that was my Dad's favorite spot, just as it is mine. Out in the yard with the birds, the worms, the trees and the weeds. Our lawn and flowerbeds were always meticulously well groomed. My Father insisted on it and my Mother appreciated it.

But helping Dad meant being given an assignment and completing it to his specifications. You didn't work alongside or with Dad, you worked for him. He had his own assignments. It would have been nice to work side by side and laugh, joke or ask questions while doing things together, but that just wasn't his style.

I believe his philosophy (although never directly expressed) was, "we'll get more done if we work separately". I also don't believe he was much into meaningless chit chat. I've adopted a similar style. Mine however is more out of necessity. I work a lot of overtime each week and there's much to be done on the weekends. So if I do this and my boys do that ... you get the idea.

My Father-in-Law is different and I am so very thankful. His name is Jim, but we call him Macko. Not Grandpa or Granddad, just Macko. Macko is retired and likes to tinker. There really isn't much he can't do. Now I don't think he particularly likes doing yard work, but when it comes to fixing things of a mechanical nature, car maintenance or installations of any kind, he is the Mack Daddy or "Macko-Daddy" and he and my eldest son do many of these things side by side. He has taught my son things I could never have taught him.

At first I was jealous of the time they spent together, I was always at work and they were always fixing bikes or washing cars, rebuilding motors or running errands. But I've come to realize that my son is the man he is today and I do mean "man", because of the time he has spent with his parents as well as his grandparents.

Both of my sons know that if they ever need anything, their Mom and Dad will always be there and so will their Grandparents. Much the same, I know that asking "Can you help Dad?", isn't as much fun as helping Macko and that's understandable. However, knowing that the words "Help, Dad!" are reserved for me and me alone makes it all worthwhile.



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Rob Oxford: an introduction

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Rob Oxford
DJ, SAN Columnist, Dad
By Rob Oxford

I honestly never envisioned myself becoming a Father. I spent my formative years in Texas pursuing a career in music. First as the lead singer of a Dallas based rock-n-roll band and then after moving to Seattle, 25 years as a radio broadcaster.

I still dabble in radio, hosting a weekend show at the Classic Rock Station KZOK, but my motivation for doing so is different today.

As a twenty-something, it was all about me. I enjoyed the attention I received as a quote; "personality". I enjoyed rubbing elbows with celebrities. I enjoyed not having a "real job" as my friends would say. I even enjoyed living paycheck to paycheck.

Music in its many different forms was my passion and still is today. But since becoming a Father, I am more passionate about something much greater than music... my children.

I don't really like the term "Baby Boomer". In fact I don't like labels at all. Especially the one sticking up out of the back of your shirt all day long that no one bothers to tell you about. But if I must be put into a category I guess "Boomer" isn't so bad.

After galavanting all over the globe, I was fortunate to once again run into the woman who would become my wife. We have two wonderful children together and just celebrated 18 years of marriage. 

From very early on I promised to try and be a better Father than my Dad. Then again, isn't that every parent's goal? It may not always work out that way, but trying is what is most important. For some of us the bar wasn't set very high.

I was the son of a 27 year Military Veteran and one of Xerox Corporation's first female executives. My Dad was gone a lot, Korea, Vietnam, Iran, Germany and we moved often when I was young. 2 different elementary schools, 2 different junior high schools, 2 different high schools.

That could be the reason I feel so fortunate to be living in Shoreline only blocks from where my wife attended school and where both my children will graduate. "Community", it's what makes us who we are. It gives us a sense of belonging and a connection to all that surrounds us.

The Shoreline Area News has graciously given me this opportunity to share with you my thoughts on life and living, and I am so very grateful. Hopefully I will sometimes make you think, seldom make you mad and often make you smile. That is who I am and I'm so very pleased to meet you.




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Rob Oxford: What makes a legend?

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Sonics great Slick Watts
Photo courtesy Slick Watts

By Rob Oxford

Whether you're a fan of the NBA (National Basketball Association) or sports in general, there's no denying that the Supersonics will always be a part of Seattle sports heritage. Responsible for providing the city its first sports title since the 1917 Seattle Metropolitans defeated the Montreal Canadiens to bring home the Stanley Cup some 100 years ago, a fan of the Supersonics in 1979 will never forget the likes of Lenny Wilkens, Jack Sikma, Gus Williams, Wally Walker or Dennis Johnson, all legendary figures of the hardwood.

But exactly what makes a legend? Is it a championship ring, a bust or plaque in a Hall of Fame somewhere? Is it a grotesque six figure contract for simply playing a "game"? I contend that what makes a legend is what people say about you 40 years after you've taken your last free throw.

Slick Watts 2017
Photo courtesy Slick Watts
That was my premise for inviting former Supersonic Slick Watts to wear his headband, tilted slightly to the right, to the Shorecrest Boys Basketball Dinner and Auction to speak to our players. Slick missed out on that championship ring by 1 year, ending his career in the NBA due to injury with the Houston Rockets and The New Orleans Jazz.

However Seattle has remained his home ever since. Choosing to establish several businesses and raise his family here.

I posted on my Facebook page that Slick had agreed to meet our team and the comments were instant and overwhelming. 
Comments like: "My parents still have their Slick Watts Christmas tree ornament from when I was little", "Do you think he'll sign my Slick Rock?", "My hero", "A great man", "I see him daily at Pro Sports Club and he’s the sweetest man in there, we all love him" and "...he’s the most loved person here, always making sure to hold the door for the ladies."... 
To this writer, that is what makes a "legend".

Never having met Mr. Watts before, I didn't want to take advantage of his kindness so when asked what was expected of him during his visit with the players, I made a point to say that "he is not required to sign autographs or take photos" with our guests. The response to which was something to the effect of "well, he's not coming if he can't do that."

Slick sat with our coaches, spoke one on one with some of our Seniors and delivered a message which focused on among other things, hard work, dedication, pursuing the dream and "putting down your cell phone and enjoying your surroundings". A message I think every parent tries to convey to their child.

It was a fabulous evening and although most of our players had to Google Slick's accomplishments to familiarize themselves with his career, their parents, the ones with the checkbooks, were overjoyed to meet this "legend". Thanks again to Slick and his Publicist Robin Hudson for making our event an evening this Sonics fan will not soon forget.

More information about Slick on his Facebook page.



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Rob Oxford: When do you take a threat seriously... Always!

Friday, January 26, 2018

By Rob Oxford

I'd like to begin this article by thanking Shoreline Law Enforcement and the Administrators at Shorecrest High School for working swiftly yesterday to insure the safety of all our students from what was perceived to be a viable threat. Let me state clearly that there is no longer any threat, I repeat there is no longer any threat of violence at Shorecrest High School.

Yesterday at 6:45pm, my youngest son returned from basketball practice and alerted me to a disturbing post that originally appeared on an app called "Sarahah". The developers of this particular application state that its purpose is to enable its users to give and receive "honest feedback from your coworkers and friends." anonymously. I have much to say about this type of application, but my feelings will have to be shared on another day.

A message of violence towards students at Shorecrest was posted on the application of which someone quickly took a screenshot (the process in which a photo can be taken of what is currently being displayed on your phone or computer's screen). The "picture" was then shared on the popular "Snapchat" app with many students at Shorecrest.

After initially having a difficult time communicating the seriousness of such a threat to both my sons, I was able to convince them that informing the proper authorities was not only the right thing to do, but our obligation. I stated that yes, it could be a practical joke but unfortunately in today's society, things of this magnitude must be taken seriously. Asking them how they would feel if they failed to report this and someone they knew was injured because of it, seemed to be the convincing factor.

I then notified a friend of mine who works with the district. He thanked me for the information and suggested I thank my children for coming forth, which I had already done and stated he needed to contact the proper authorities immediately. Within minutes an email was sent from Principal Lisa Gonzalez explaining the situation and that law enforcement was investigating.

It was later revealed that the police had been working on the perceived threat since the end of the school day and by 8:30pm the perpetrator had been apprehended. My friend Lloyd mentioned in a text thread that had been shared among concerned parents, that he "...hoped this person gets the help they need". I think we can all agree that for someone to initiate such a horrible prank only days after the school shooting in Kentucky, "help" is certainly something that should be provided.

I am very proud of my sons for having enough faith in me, respect, confidence and concern for others to feel comfortable sharing this information. Now might be the perfect time to sit down with your own kids and ask them if they were aware of the threat. If they were and failed to tell you, you might just want to ask them... why?



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Rob Oxford: Happy New Year

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Eating black-eyed peas on New Year's
means good luck for the coming year
By Rob Oxford

When I was a youngster, celebrating the new year meant so many different things. Although it rarely happened, it meant being allowed to stay up late and watch Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve.

It meant drinking a "fake" toast of grape juice at midnight with my parents. It meant watching my Dad prepare Black-eyed Peas, a true Southern tradition and knowing I could get away with eating just one single pea on New Year's Day in order to receive the luck it "held". 

It meant school was "out", it meant lots and lots of football and it meant making resolutions and promising the next year would be the best year ever. Then a couple days later, forgetting what it was that you had resolved to change.

It also meant everything from the previous year would be forgotten and erased from memory. I'm so glad that wasn't the case. Today I think back on those memories and realize the ability to remember my mistakes is precisely why I am where I am today. Married, the Father of two bright, loving, respectful children and by my own definition, successful.

When I got older, after the passing of my Mother, New Years Eve meant no matter where I was or what I was doing, be it on stage playing with my band, hosting a radio station event or being the low guy on the totem pole and keeping the radio station on the air, stopping just before midnight and calling my Dad. Usually waking him up from a deep sleep, but knowing that if I didn't call him both he and I would regret it in the morning.

I made so many mistakes growing up, said and did so many things I wish I hadn't, behaved in ways I can't imagine my children ever behaving. Luckily for me and for all of us, we were always forgiven. We were always blessed with that "new year" and the chance to start again.

So what does celebrating the new year mean now at 57 years old? It means trying desperately to stay up late and watch Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve hosted by some guy with whom I have absolutely no connection.

It means now that I am sober, drinking a toast of grape juice at midnight with my wife. It means never having to eat another Black-eyed Pea as long as I live. It means lots and lots of football, letting my children decide how they want to celebrate their own New Year's Eve and looking forward to when school will start again.

It means being saddened by watching the "In Memoriam" segment honoring all those who we lost the previous year and it means wishing I could call my Dad. It also means being intelligent enough not to make resolutions I have the risk of breaking.

Finally, it means waking up to another day of life, being thankful for the air I breathe, the love of my family and friends, the people I meet and the prospects of changing my world for the better.

And most of all it still means sincerely wishing each of you a HAPPY NEW YEAR!



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Rob Oxford: "It's Just What I Always Wanted"

Thursday, December 28, 2017

By Rob Oxford

The snow has melted and all the packages have been unwrapped. Many have been returned and some stores are already shifting their attention towards February 14th. The greens and reds have been replaced with pinks and purples. Santa Claus, his reindeer and packages of breakable tree ornaments have made way for Cupid, candy hearts and boxes of chocolate.

It's an undeniable fact that anymore, we're hardly given time to recover from the whirlwind of joy that just hit us like a 2 ton lump of coal before we're forced to ask someone to be our valentine.

But before the credit card statement arrives, let's spend these final paragraphs of 2017 reflecting back on the very best part of the Christmas Season.

For some it's baking goodies for neighbors with whom they speak maybe 3 or 4 times a year. For others it's the feigned laughter at a coworkers inappropriate jokes during the office holiday party. Some pretend that singing carols off-key in front of complete strangers at the local pub puts them in the spirit, while others insist it's time spent with family...huh? or simply time off work.

But let's be honest, it's all about the presents...isn't it?

Of course I'm being sarcastic, but unfortunately too much emphasis has always been put on gift giving. "I got the same thing last year", "Oh Boy! Another tie" and "Did you remember to get a gift receipt?" are familiar refrains. But as my 15 year old said recently, who by the way is used to earning his own money and with no help from Mom or Dad picking out and purchasing his own gifts to give; "People worry about the cost more than the value." Wow! That's deep.

There's probably very few of us who if we had the financial means, would give a second thought to how much something costs or how much we should spend on our spouses or children, but we live in Shoreline, not Medina.

So what is the best gift you've ever received? It's not the guitar you told your Mother you "had to have", that you never learned to play. It's certainly not the leather jacket you left behind at the nightclub you have no recollection of even visiting and it isn't the $250 pair of shoes that you'll outgrow in 6 months.

In fact, I'm going to venture to guess that the snowflake mobile made by your 3rd Grader in art class, carefully smuggled home under their winter jacket or the drawing of you and your 1st Grader having tea together or the pair of work gloves purchased by your 6th Grader with birthday money they've been saving since April, just might be the best present you've ever received and really is "just what you've always wanted".



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Silence can be beautiful to watch

Saturday, December 9, 2017

By Rob Oxford aka Rockfish

When I was in 8th Grade I learned The American Manual Alphabet. These are the 26 hand gestures that allow one to "finger spell" and speak, albeit very slowly, to a person who is deaf or hard of hearing.

For some reason, of all the information that was crammed into my tiny skull during those adolescent years, I've been able to recall the entire ASL Alphabet with only a few exceptions. So when my son came home and told me he had joined a "club" at school that would be learning sign language I was thrilled. I immediately proceeded to show off my talents as a "signer", but in typical fashion he was not impressed.

I have always been fascinated with those who either out of love, necessity or curiosity, develop this skill. I recall coming home from school myself with much pride and the knowledge that I finally knew something my parents did not.

During my tenure as a morning radio host, each year we would broadcast from a local business during the holidays, usually to encourage listeners to come by and donate toys for "the tots" or to collect food for a local food bank.

On one particular morning while standing in the freezing rain pretending to be "enthused", I noticed a young man standing much too close to the P.A. speakers. He was slowly nodding his head. When the Producer in the studio cut back to us "live on the street", I made some remark about the gentlemen who appeared to be a "real fan of the music we were playing" before continuing on with the broadcast segment.

After the stopset (the term for a commercial break) was over, his mother came up to me and told me he was deaf and that he enjoyed feeling the vibrations coming out of the speakers. She also told me that he was quite the dancer.

At first I was slightly embarrassed, but then how was I to know he couldn't hear? For one, he was at a remote radio broadcast and two, I'd witnessed precisely the same type of thing at rock concerts many times in the past. However, these were most often fans of the band who, if they hadn't already lost their hearing, would most likely be losing it at least temporarily, very soon. Not to mention most of them were also horrible dancers.

On a whim, I went up to the young man and began spelling with my fingers..."M-Y...N-A-M-E...I-S...R-O-C-K-F-S-H". The delight in his eyes was immediate and overwhelming. I could tell the mere fact that I was attempting to converse with him in "his" language was very special. Not only to him, but to me as well. I excused myself for a moment and went behind the radio station van to wipe a tear from my eye.

A similar incident took place this past football season when at our Team Banquet, I noticed two of our outstanding young athletes translating their Coach's speech for their mother. I had known she was deaf and had heard many stories of how these fine young men, among other things, helped support her by taking care of their younger sister. Something inside told me I needed to make her feel welcome and a part of our football family. So I sat down next to them and told her eldest son that I was fascinated by sign language and knew the "alphabet". He smiled awkwardly and shared my words with his mother. It wasn't much of a conversation, but I hoped it made them both feel more comfortable.

You'll come to find out, the more you read my articles, that I'm not very shy.

Since that day I've attempted to make similar contact with strangers whom I see signing. Granted, not always with the same results, but nonetheless gratifying to a certain extent. I'm not sure if I want to be appreciated for my efforts in trying to communicate with them or if I'm just showing off. My Therapist would know for sure... (I don't really have a therapist). But I know that all too often we take for granted the blessings that have been bestowed upon us. Whether we chose to believe they are gifts from God or Nature, our senses, especially sight and sound, are incredibly precious.

There is much more to learning sign language than just memorizing signs. ASL has its own grammar, culture, history, terminology and it takes time and effort to become a "skilled language user." I have always enjoyed observing the deaf speak with their hands.

I try to disguise my obvious curiosity and depending on the situation will sometimes embarrass myself by trying to say a few words. I'm not sure if this is perceived as annoying or a welcomed act, but I do know that silence can be a beautiful thing to watch.



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Rob Oxford: Giving just a little bit

Sunday, November 19, 2017

By Rob Oxford

A friend recently contacted me about an upcoming concert his son was interested in attending. It seems this particular artist happened to be his son's favorite and he'd not yet had the chance to see him perform live.

Knowing my way around the entertainment industry, I made a few phone calls and sent a few emails. Unfortunately, this was several months ago and it appeared as though this time, I was not going to be "the man of the hour". I hadn't gotten any response from the artist's management team and I was running out of time and options. However, not being the type to give up easily, I sent one last email.

I should tell you that during my 25 years in radio, one of my greatest joys has been the ability to provide friends with experiences only those in my line of work have the opportunity to enjoy. Afterall, one can only go to so many concerts, am I right? I've seen some bands a dozen times, hung out backstage on more than a few occasions and interviewed countless artists. Yes, it's always a thrill to meet a star and every so often they're genuinely thrilled to meet you. That's when it's special.

But it's equally special to have a listener call you during your radio shift or run into you at an event and say; "Do you remember when you gave me those backstage passes to Pearl Jam? I'll never forget that." Unfortunately, more often than not I have forgotten, but that's not the point. The point is, I made a lifelong friend and sometimes they're already friends, which is the case with Kip Kane.

Roger Hodgson
Kip was hesitant at first, but asked me if I had any connections with Roger Hodgson, the creative genius behind Supertramp.

He told me his son Luke, a keyboard player himself, is a huge Supertramp fan, would love to see the show and if at all possible, say hello afterward.

To be quite honest, it was a pretty tall order considering I had never met Roger myself. But, considering the type of guy Kip is and as President of The Shorecrest H.S. Boosters, how much of himself he gives to our community, I had to try.

So I sent one last email. This time I got a response. It read in part, "Roger wold love to meet with Luke and Kip after the show. He has a soft spot for young musicians. We will have passes for you at the door under Luke's name. Do you also need tickets?"

The show, his last of the current tour, had been sold out for quite some time so I was delighted at the response I had just received.

Unfortunately, there was a catch.

Neither Luke's Dad nor I had considered that the venue was 21 and over. We tried our best to arrange a special backstage meet-n-greet, but considering this specific venue is also a Casino, it just wasn't going to happen. The Head of Security was gracious while delivering the bad news, but the fact remained, Luke was going to have to wait four more years to meet his favorite songwriter.

The show was fantastic and if Mr. Hodgson's performance is any indication, he'll surely be back again in four years and most likely a lot sooner. But I was disappointed that Luke couldn't meet Roger. I was even more disappointed that Roger couldn't meet Luke. You see Luke is a Senior at Shorecrest High School and has autism. An incredibly talented young man, who plans on studying music production after he graduates, I have no question that someday it will be Luke who's meeting with a young fan backstage.

I would like to personally thank Shakti with Mr. Hodgson's Management for trying so hard to accommodate our request and for the autographed CD Luke recently received in the mail. Luke is currently in the process of writing his own note of thanks.



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