I was happy to complete the work on 98ROCK and passed the links on to the various staff and personalities. To me it was sort of an upside down response as it seems the personalities that got a briefer mention made the effort to tell me they liked what I wrote and thanked me.

While from the others I got: "I think I remember getting that, but didn't get around to reading it. I lost the link." Or, "Oh yea, it was good! (Not sounding sincere)" And the more common, "Could you send me the link again, I would like to look at it," then the next time, told the same thing.

In all fairness, the morning show is swamped with Emails and I felt they go through phases of simply deleting them all. Mickey is also self-confessing, "I am horrible with my Emails!" Yet, I did link it with 98ROCKs page and got a couple of, "Cool!," from their fans as well. I did noticed that the pages got accessed on their own, so I didn't consider the work unappreciated.

In fact I had a couple of people I term, Satellite Personalities, sign on as face book friends, like Brett the Irish Comic, The 98ROCK Santa, and an unexpected one, as I lauded the show to bring on people in the news that really didn't have a voice to give their side of the story.

One person was Ed Hale, who was a self made businessman and banker ... and most likely one of Maryland's richest people. I liked his story about how the media perceived him, and how much different he was. I was a bit surprised when his son, Ed Hale Jr. signed on as a Facebook friend.



I think with my 98ROCK project, had I gained enough time to talk to Mickey, he would have seen what I was trying to do and with his blessing, all would come on board and provide me with the little of their time I needed. I did wonder if he simply thought I was trying to capitalize off and horn in on their success.

I ended up viewing Mickey as a little boy with a hammer; who in the end demonstrates more of a destructive success then a building one. With the show, he has done bits and executed ideas that were pretty good, but either did them to the point he drove them in the ground, or if I felt they had a good direction they were going, but they weren't happy with immediate gratification, so they destroyed it completely. With that I could identify with Mickey because I too was a boy with a hammer.

My father was so proud I was making a model look like a real car, not realizing he would be finding the pieces all over the yard, because I intended to blow it up. My first shedding of this tendency and knowing when to put the hammer down occurred with me doing nature photography ... In my thirties. But throughout my life were people with their own dismissive attitudes and hammers who seemed unwilling to put their hammers down for me.

It was writing, and ironically the 98ROCK project, were I decided to complete it to my satisfaction and not allow anyone to get in there and discourage me from completing it. Like a boy learning to build things, there is both a learning experience, as well as a maturity that develops allowing him to successfully complete his endeavors, as well benefit from them.

While I perceived Mickey with his hammer as a negative for me, it is one reason he is a successful standup comedian, businessman, as well being responsible for one of the most successful radio shows in the Baltimore region. It was something the 98ROCK program director and Hearst executives seemed to appreciate and allow to develop with a little guidance; something that wouldn't be accorded to other people who would end up short lived in the radio world.

At one point, in respect to me he was literally and figuratively that man with the hammer. 98ROCK, WBAL radio and WBAL TV, all Hearst affiliates supported the Special Olympics and their big fundraising even The Polar Bear Plunge. This is where you jump into the icy water in January and because of medication that Mickey took, he couldn't plunge himself.

But he made up for that by finding other ways to help out and when he announced he was going to be building, "Mick Mick," tables to sell, I was wondering how he would pull it off. These were full sized park style picnic tables in natural wood tones and painted Raven purple down the table's center boards. What really made them special was they were all to be signed by Joe Flacco, the Raven's star quarterback, and him.

I loved hearing how Mickey was designing them and how he planned to produce him, but I was more interested on how he was going to single-handedly construct the number he planned as he did The Morning Show and always had comedy appearances all the time, not to mention his family.

It wasn't that long before Mickey was totally exhausted and frustrated as he realized just what a job making his Mick Mick tables would be, or just how he would pull it off. I sort of took pleasure at his saying he would need help, but I liked the project and contacted Mickey and explained I couldn't work during the week because of my split-shift, but offered to work on helping to build them for twelve hours each on Saturday and Sunday. All I needed was transportation.

I figured it would be a yes, as he didn't live too far away from my house and it might even be easier, because I was sure other listeners would volunteer as well. He never got back to me or even said thanks, but the next day it was clear he was overwhelmed with the offer(s), but agitated me was he was grateful people offered to help, but didn't want any of us to know where he lived or to become any more than a fan. I laughed and thought, Jesus Christ... This guy is begging for help, but too into himself and his fears to accept it.

He put out a call with thinking someone will donate some work space, and once he had things figured out; he might get back with it. But then later in the show, a person who contracted with Amish laborers, who do wood working and could work out a deal on the labor costsso they could still make a profit for Special Olympics. In the end, Mickey went that route, but for many listeners the tables were too expensive. He sold many to a lot of businesses such as bars, and I believe they even created contests for listeners to try their hands at getting one.



But Mickey was more the little boy with the hammer regarding my thoughts the most. He built up tremendously the ideals of working at Hearst, calling it a family that takes care of you, and also giving you the freedom to work, to be creative and successful. They definitely cut him numerous breaks in regards to his chronic lateness, which normally wouldn't be tolerated for a performer, yet I kept in mind, he was the big contributor to their success.



My employment was fraught with hardships and frustrations; simply getting worse in my mind. With the steady bleeding of the benefits; the attitudes whether it be from the bosses or other employees; working overtime, then losing it to sheer fatigue because I work a split-double, making it insult to injury.

I wanted to work for a dynamic company like 98ROCK/Hearst who appreciated me, supported me; as well, rewarded me for the efforts I applied on their behalf. I had a sense of all aspects of what goes into radio/television, news reporting, video aspects and audio.

Being in the field, I had knowledge of the printing industry, its processes and terms. I was a professionally trained photographer that couldn't only do event photography, but photojournalism. Being prepress for so many years, I could do layout and design, understood advertising and putting together news stories.

Then there was my writing, some of which was journalistic, yet there was plenty of indication with my poetry to the creative elements which were expansive. I could see myself as creating advertising concepts, copywriting and scripting. Then there were the audio aspects of what they do, and since I dabbled with that, had a basic understanding of the equipment which would allow me to learn and gain expertise in the equipment they used fairly quickly.

I also saw myself fitting in with some of the more technical aspects such as repair. While I didn't see myself as an electronic repair technician, I felt I knew enough I could provide great assistance in that area. If needed for some sort of certification, I rock climbed, knew safety systems and would have been willing to climb the tower if it was necessary for certification. In fact one of my former adult leaders worked there and told me about his experience, especially climbing down the antennas with the ladder bolts, some of which broke.

I loved what I was doing at work in the context that a lot was presented and I always had to pick, choose and prioritize things with what needed to be done, opposed to what everyone wanted me to do. My weak point was I didn't have transportation so in the beginning; I would have to rely on buses. Yet if it meant twelve hour days, I would have worked them.

The second problem was, I would basically have to be hired at the wages I was making, but even if they were slightly less, it still would have been a raise and would have allowed me to default on my profit sharing loan sucking 20 percent of my weekly pay, as well being able to use the rest to get current on the bills.

Of course I had thoughts of being on air personality as well, but had the maturity to realize that was something that doesn't just happen overnight, though sometimes it does. I used to joke about doing such, but with my writing came my confidence, it would be a quick process, and I could pull it off on FM or the AM side. I really didn't want to get in front of the camera as I am behind the scenes, but I did see myself as a contributing personality. For me, it would be worth a try, and in all honesty, Mickey was an inspiration and confidence, I could make it possibly happen.

Another big problem was, I didn't hold a degree or technical certificate, and I was in the world where it was generally mandatory, and, "self-educated," held so little respect. I felt my work experience and those basic qualities required to function at a job, crossed the fields of employment.



I found it funny that there was another guy gunning for employment there, Mikey Papers. He would be on the air basically as the show's pest. He'd just call up, and imitating another voice start talking, he was a hoot when he was black and a blast when he called the show as a racist, and it got even more creative than that. It always ended up with them tripping him up and saying, "Is this Mikey Papers?"

"No-ooooo."

"Bye!"

At work he managed to get on so regular we wondered if it wasn't pre-arranged or he had been given the, "Warm-Line-Number." But one time they persisted with the question why does he want to get on so much and he broke down and said he wanted a job with them. I thought to myself, "That Son-of-bitch!"

He did surpass me on his talent to get let into the studio, as he had 98ROCK personalities sign their name to his body and he had it tattooed in. In addition he declared war on Scott Reardon the Producer, and created a band called, "Reardon's End."

Sort of a pun as Scott was usually considered an asshole to many people who met him, and also in keeping of the war, he had the band's name tattooed on him along with a image of Scott with the crosshairs of a sniper scope.

At one point, the station lost an evening position and I was willing to take off of work to see if we could put a show together. I figured neither of us was short on personality and he knew music. I felt I had the skills to be the weird straight man and keep the show properly timed, while he played the music and we joined in on bits and entertain callers.

I became Mickey Papers, Facebook friend and discussed my idea and initially he liked it, so I sent the idea off to Dave Hill and had the feeling it became the first Email to land on the desk like a paper weight. Thud! Never a call back and Mikey Papers stopped responding to me when I pressed on.

Personally, I thought it was something that could have eventually worked out to be pretty cool, and I would have loved to see Mikey Papers and myself hosting a public event, because he wouldn't come to a Beer and Bacon because of the crowd. Hell, I felt it was worth a try and at least good use of a vacation.

During one call, they pressed Mikey why he came on so much and basically broke down on them, quite simply he wanted a new job and thought 98ROCK was cool. I didn't like what came next which was an impromptu on air interview, and to me a nail biter. Much was standard, but some of the questions seemed geared to more a specialty instead of an entry level job.

From the past, I knew Mikey was a roofer, but had a bad back that made it hard for him to work. Somehow this translated to Lori, the Promotions Director that Mikey didn't want to work and her tone seemed to me to be condescending, "I don't see why we would want to hire you if you don't want to work."

The hosts tried to explain he is a roofer and works quite hard. "Well a lot of what we do involves hauling heavy equipment and if he doesn't want to do that..." Mikey said point blank that he is also with a band and would carry the equipment, but he has to be careful.

I was very uncomfortable with the on air interview, because I could see me being interviewed that way, and it seemed to me to be more of a bit, as well benefit to the audience then developing a personal relationship with Mikey. I could see myself in Mikey's place and it gave me the sense that Mickey was being used.

But there would be another opportunity for Mikey. Mike Anderson was their current assistant producer, and the inspiration for including them in my book about 98ROCK. To please the hosts and for the sake of the show, he was willing to do anything to satisfy the hosts and entertain the listeners.

Mike Anderson walked one morning from his home by Conowingo Damn, 24 miles from his home to the studio for work. This started the night before and as the show started, I had woke up just in time to listen he walked past my house on Harford Road. I figured they wouldn't want a naked listener to greet him. By the end of the show, he made it hobbling into the studio just in time for his medical evaluation and treatment of his sore feet.

He was also sort of a pied piper as listeners joined him along the way. The absolute favorite of mine was when the Olympic swimmer, Michael Phelps had been cited for using marijuana; they sent him to his Fells Point condo, bull horn in hand to proceed with an intervention for Phelps behalf. What he yelled was similar to this paraphrase, "Mike Phelps, we know you are in there. This is 98ROCK, and I know what everyone thinks of us, but we are here to help... So please put down the joint you are smoking and come out so we can talk to you. This is an intervention! Repeat ... We are here to help."

"So come out and give us the joint, we know what to do with it!"

Needless to say, there was plenty of on air fun from there as he was told by the condos management to cease and subsist. It was found out Mike was walking away because the police arrived and he was told to go back and offer himself up to the officer for arrest; needless to say, for our enjoyment.

He was told to leave, and we heard it through is phone the officer's opinion, coyly done not to violate the officers regulation that he can't talk to the public, the cop thought what they did was funny, but once again he was told to leave.

In another case he lost a bet and as a result had to grow a beard. The catch was it wasn't his beard, but the shows and subject to their whims. The initial intention was for it to be an Islamic type, like the terrorists have; but it found itself dyed and braided. He did something to catch the shows ire and as a result, he had to shave half of it off and keep it that way until the time period for the beard was over.

Eventually Mike Anderson left the show as the assistant producer, but it was a promotion as he became a producer on the AM side of Hearst. Needless to say, it was sad news for the listeners of the show, but since I listen to WBAL as well, I thought the promotion was well deserved.

Scott announced he was looking for an assistant, so I shot of an email to him and others inquiring, but also stated that I need to make the same amount I am making at my job. I gave a brief description of my responsibilities as well my willingness to work at Hearst to do anything I can to earn that salary. Like before, I never heard back from anybody, not even for an interview.

Mikey Papers called the show and he wanted to try for the job, and in a roundabout way, got a tryout of it. I thought to myself, Shit, they're going to give that SOB a try! I had a more of an, It figures, but outlook but was happy for him.

But then, the more this progressed the less happy I was for Mikey. They gave him three days to prove himself and that he could do the job. It made me apprehensive as I felt he definitely needed time to learn the job first as I didn't think Mikey was exactly skilled in the areas an assistant producer needed to be, and was afraid this was more a bit for the show than anything else.

But I listened and held my breath, I am not sure about Mikey's first day there as I was late to work because of working late the night before, and once back at work, had too much to deal with myself. I do know they weren't happy and Mikey's car figured into it as well.

The second day, I was up at the start of the show and they weren't happy because he wasn't there and didn't call in, so the show said that was it for him. Partway through the show, Mikey Papers busted ass to call in and said he had a blow out on the way to work and was looking for a replacement tire. They told him to forget it and the next few minutes were emotional, with I think even Mickey promising to send him to Sheffield to learn radio. I was put off because the offered him at least three days and pulled the plug the second.

I know for a long time Mikey was hurt by the whole affair, and the back pain he suffered so much required back surgery, but he has remained one of the shows faithful. I can identify with Mikey because of the sheer amount of crud in my life and how even if you have the pure spirit and balls needed for life, people will put their own persona on you.



That was the start of feeling that Hearst isn't that loving family Mickey painted up so well, little by little, it didn't make me enjoy my employment any more, but at least reconcile that for the time being, it is still the best for me out there despite the problems and short falls.

With 98ROCK, I had a feeling that more abrasiveness entered into the path of my listenership, especially with their perception towards me, though at the events it remained friendly. I still loved the Beer and Bacons, and one satellite personality they brought over to mornings was Gay Matt.

Gay Matt was hilarious in the evenings as he was kept on for a segment and after a few go-arounds with the rules, he became quite entertaining. But when he had his own segment on the Morning show, he now became an in-your-face type person as you felt homosexuality being shoved down your throat and also demeaned because you were straight ... With any intended humor lost in translation.

I was interested in how he would do live at their Christmas Beer and Bacon which was right up the street from my houseat The Barn. Once again the place was packed with hundreds of drinkers 6:00am in the morning. I shocked that he seemed even more brazen then normal in his commentary. I thought, Jesus Christ! I have never seen a place of that many people go completely silent ... When he was done, Gay Matt immediately picked up and shot out of the place. I attempted to talk to him, but he ignored me and kept trucking.

I did get hold of another satellite personality, Scotty D, a rancorous car dealer, business man and multi-millionaire. He too was running out, but I caught him and suggested he start a Facebook page and his reply was, "No way, I have too many contracts out there and I just can't do that." That little bit of time, taught me a lot about the man.

I had to cut out of the Beer and Bacon early so I could pick up my pay check and get it to the bank to pay the mortgage. But the ever present Stripper North Pole was there as usual, which was sponsored by X-pose Fitness. I started joking about the difference between men and women pole dancers.

The woman seemed to become excited, and mentioned she was looking for a male volunteer, but no one would come forward. I saw it for an opportunity to be used as a photo-op as I felt it could eagerly fit into a poem of one sort or another. I agreed but since the pole wasn't fixed at the top, would need to know how to grab it to go upside down without bringing the whole rig on top of me; then I warned her that I was in jeans and would not have any grip so I would immediately be spinning around and coming down.

I stepped up to the pole, and heard Amelia say something along the lines of, "Well, we have a guy up there getting pole dancing lessons."

The woman showed me the grip and I went upside down and Scott the Producer who was standing beside me started yelling, "Sir ... Sir... Sir ... You have to get off. Sir, you have to get off."

I couldn't respond because I had to use every ounce of concentration to hold on and not end up pile driven head first into the ground. I then spun around and slid down coming off the pole like a snake. I thought I heard Amelia exclaim, "Holy, shit!" But I wasn't sure.

I got up and Scott told me, "Sir, you have to leave the pole now!" I now noticed myself in Gay Matt's world of 98ROCK silence;but my silence didn't seem to be anger, but sheer disbelief, shock and fear. The girl who invited me, was walking away pissed off, because she was upset over the fact Scott the Producer didn't like it. I had to leave and it cracked me up that it was fine for two women to get around the pole and make out as they spun around it, but not for a guy to actually do something on it.

I left, but was happy that earlier, I caught Mickey outside during a break and talked about my comedic routine around the N-word. It seemed to garner some interest, so I asked if I sent him a tape if he would watch it and give me an honest opinion, and Mickey agreed and told me to get it to him.

I got things organized and felt it was best to immediately find a video camera, so I can work it up, but finding someone to loan me the camera took a while. Then I had to find the time to put it all together, and in the end it was a last ditch effort the night before their Saint Patrick's Day, Beer and Bacon.

I was having problems with recording it since I was trying to be on stage (coffee table), and the animals seemed to be interfering. I felt it was more a demonstration tape of ADD in full bloom; and without an audience, I really couldn't gauge the timing of my delivery. Just before Beer and Bacon, I was hoping to use the little time left to try to do an improved version, but spent the time working over and was too tired for anything else but a short nap.

Having enough, I chose to give it to Mickey with a note explaining the crudeness of it and supplied him with all my contact information. Like usual it was a good Beer and Bacon, and at the end, Mickey did his usual, shook a few hands and walked out. I managed to catch him and handed him the tape and stressed, I learned how hard delivery is without an audience to gauge. He laughed and promised to get back to me in some fashion.

Like usual, that never happened, but I got a feeling when he did view it a few days later. He was a bit preoccupied with it as he seemed to indicate such on the show as he said, "Wow, man. I'm a standup comic, and can't do humor by telling stories. I tell you what, I will do standup all day, but if I have to get up on stage telling stories, I want out immediately!"

About a month later, he decided to do a workshop and used a recording an amateur black comedian sent him from an open mic asking for help. It struck me the problems he experienced weren't dissimilar from my own. As he played the recording, he picked out the problems and commented on them, and also suggested that he keep doing the open mics, before he tries a professional stage, but take someone there to help him evaluate and hone his performance.

The only other evidence I had was with occasional black comedians he had on The Morning Show, they were asked, "Do you think white people should use the N-word?"

"No, absolutely not!" I thought, Thanks for contextualizing the usage, Mickey. The usual thought was, that was best reserved for black comedians, then they would tell funny stories about the word... What made me laugh about it all is I generally don't like black comedians who bandy about the N-word because they use more like profanity, and for the shock value.

The comedians I like, black or white, generally don't cuss unless it is critical in part of their delivery and as a result have a much more creative and enjoyable routine to watch. Much of standup, is humor from picking on people and I love the story telling aspects because it makes people think.



Mickey was right, I definitely needed to get used to the microphone, and for me it would be easiest to do with poetry. My take was, to create poetry in themes and read them in the intended character. Such as jail house poetry, there I could make great use of the awkwardness by introducing myself as a convict, and then telling them, "My probation officers says it would be best I didn't tell you what put me in jail, you'd be too scared of me."

One of my favorites is, "Ffffft! The Purse Snatcher," A criminal type who expresses his pride at plying his talents to steal purses. What put him in jail? Not his crimes, but the fact that some son of a bitch broke the law by not picking up his dog shit! Hence, subtle hits to the criminal mentality that landed them in jail in the first place.

The main problem I had with attending open mics is both the preparation time required, as well most open mics were held in the city and I would literally have to spend most of the day on busses. Another hindrance was, I enjoyed writing so much, there wasn't much time to consider open mics.

But the stage would find me in a roundabout way; I got a stage call from my high school friend John, who was playing in a band. It wasn't for my voice, but for my Theremin, which is a musical instrument developed in the late 1920's.

It is unique because it consisted of two antennas, and you never touched the instrument but held your hands in the air and moved them tough the invisible ether. One antenna controlled the pitch of the note, and another the volume. It became quite popular in the 30's, and there were even Theremin orchestras doing live performances and radio shows.

It was invented by a Russian musician and scientist of the same name and there was a lot of intrigue about him, as he was quite unconventional and even developed a Theremin stage that was operated by dancers, a black ballet troupe. He also married one of the black dancers and suspiciously disappeared from the streets of New York City to be revealed in the 1980's that he was kidnapped and taken back to Russia where he was to use that technology to develop the, "Bug," a radio listening device.

In my case, mine was a kit purchased from Moog, and I put it together myself without much work. Until my big performance, I set it up on my porch on Halloween. The first year I did this; I couldn't get hardly any kids willing to come on the porch to get their candy and had to pass it out on the lawn. Great fun!

When I got there the band was already set up, and explained to them I needed six feet of space in order to play it; I got a lot less and hoped for the best. The rock band leader and singer took one look at me and the instrument and said, "What the hell is that thing?"

When it was my turn to play, he informed me the key of the song, and having no idea, I shook my head and started laughing. I was to assist them in their instrumental, "Swamp Boogie," and given the nod, I started playing and everyone was flipped out by it. I heard several people yell out, "What the hell is that thing!"

"Ooo Wooo Eee ee ah owe eeEEEE!" One definite problem was communication as John was playing base over my left shoulder and the singer/leader was out in front and there was no monitor sound for us. I felt John indicated he wanted me to play on the piece, but when I started, the leader became angry and shook his head, "No." I could see it bothered him, and from his microphone mounted control, locked me out.

So for the next few songs, I just stood pretty not knowing what the hell to do. He introduced this heavy lady, and she was singing along to his music with a microphone with a huge yellow ball on in it; I thought this would have been short lived. It should have been...

During the break, I found myself being the bar room entertainer as everyone wanted to know, "What the hell was that thing." I told them, explained how it worked, and explained the mystique behind Theremin. As a result, it earned me the nickname of, "Mike, the Bad Ass Russian!" I thought, Well my Czechoslovakian grandmother's rolling around in her grave.

Being on stage was a stroke of luck, but that seemed to be running out for me, as in the next set he wanted me to play Emerson, Lake and Palmer's, "Lucky man." To play notes on the Theremin is like studying to play the violin, so it became a hope for the best scenario. I figured, I could air out some notes, on this improve, but the leader was seemingly expecting me to nail it note for note.

Up on stage to play the announced and touted, "Lucky Man," as John looked at me and laughed, he also brought that heavy woman singer back up on stage and handed her the mic. I had a feeling, this wasn't going to work, and I did warn her she had to be further away from me so I could play.

They started to play, "Lucky Man," and she sang in a manner which really wasn't fitting for the song, and as my solo was approaching, she started dancing around like a Richard Simmons workout, and right when the musical cue came for me to play, she hopped back and a loud, "Clip!" came out. The leader was mad at me, and motioned at me again; right there she jumped back and the Theremin made the sound of a bird chirp.

The leader gave me the look and mouthed, "What the hell's wrong."

"I told you I needed six feet of space, you put her in front of me, and every times she jumps back, she clips me out." He had enough and told me I was done, but to be honest, I felt like I was a, "Lucked Out Man", and accepted my humiliation as the best of all worlds.

John did spread the news of my Theremin debut, and a couple of founders of one of the former bands he was in, BLAMMO was there, and they were definitely considered one of Baltimore's underground bands. To me they were sort of an acidified Frank Zappa, and who would get a kick of the acronym, "Beleaguered League of Artists Meeting Mass Opposition."

Another personality was the host to, "The Cosmic Music Experience," which came every Sunday night out of Towson State University, where he introduced me to the likes of space music like Kitaro, Jean Michael Jarre, and Isao Tomita. I think The Cosmic Music Experience singlehandedly created a whole new market for the local record stores to survive yet another day. The word, "import," became somewhat commonplace, despite the high price.

With such people attending my Theremin gig at the Coach House Inn, I figured to be revealed as the ultimate in musical frauds, and mention of that revealing look of such on my face up on stage. Instead they shook my hand and said they enjoyed it the most. They even talked about creating an electronic get together as they all had a friend in Parkville. I never expected to be so honored.

I also found out there would be an embarrassing price to pay and discovered I had achieved a bit of celebrity status. I was in the self-checkout line of the Superfresh grocery store in the Parkville Shopping Center and this long haired guy yelled out, "Hey, I know you! You're Mike the Bad Assed Russian! Weeee-oogh-eeee-whoooooo!"

Between that and his Saint Vitus dance of strange hand motions, with leg liftings, most of the people around me instantly developed a lot of apprehension about me. There was talk about me doing another show, and also studio work with the band, but it was short-lived as the band broke up after that.



I kept my eye open for poetry open-mics, but was still too busy with writing and working; however years of looking at the City Paper's monthly announcement for The Baltimore Poetry Discussion Group, I decided to check them out.

It was a group of about twenty people, who met at the HI Youth Hostel on Mulberry Street in Baltimore. With taking the bus I got there early and enjoyed going to Lexington Market to get my Polock Johnys', polish sausage; a Baltimore staple.

I then walked to the youth hostel and looked around, and ended up feeling in good company because a few doors down in the group of old homes was where the Latrobe House was located. I was greeted with a plaque that stated this was where the three men met their who chose Edgar Allan Poe.s, poem, "MS. Found In A Bottle," as a contest winner. Hense, Poe's career in writing was started.

To me, HI Youth Hostel, an old style row home of an affluent community at one time, turned into a special place. I enjoyed the people at the poetry discussions; as well learning about a wide variety of poets as we looked at their lives, read the poems as well, discussed them.

I was shocked that no one their said they wrote poetry, and at times drew some spunk and occasional eyes as I contributed to the discussion. I found out that I broke a taboo as you aren't supposed to talk about yourself as a poet, so I popped my term at them of, "Poetic Writer."

In time, I would find out there were other poets in the group, and some were published as well. I was glad to see a bit more easing as socially talking about your works took a more relaxed hold. I also came to love the interactions of the members, but hated fighting the feeling of me falling to sleep on them, as my split-shift sleep cycle wanted to kick at by 1:00pm, after I usually left the shop late as I closed it for the weekend.

The HI Youth Hostel house was also special for me in another way, as I would arrive early and found it conducive in penning my own poems, usually from a form discussed the prior month. Call it a friendly spirit guiding my hand, but from there, three of my poems landed in Poems of the World.

(Continued in next chapter...)