The year 1973 was when I got married for the first time and graduated from college.  I had to put my big boy pants on, cut my hair, get a job, and buy a more sensible car. I lived in an apartment by the railroad tracks that I carpeted using scraps from the mobile home industry. At least, I was finally twenty-one years old, working as a supervisor in a Styrofoam company. We would soon find out that there was a baby on the way, so the pants got tighter, and we looked for a bigger place to live. The Viet Nam war was coming to an end, so that was no longer a worry. My wife had a job at the local bank and all was well until I lost my job at the factory, I was replaced by a far more experienced supervisor from the main plant and can’t remember if I was fired or laid off. 

In the meantime, we had bought our first home and a van, so we had to scramble to make the payments. I was out of work for several months but got help from my parents. A headhunter found me a job at a small newspaper operation in Middlebury, Indiana. My wife had started a plant business doing in-home parties and eventually opened her own retail outlet called The Hall of Ivy. The van helped us haul plants from wholesale locations, including Florida, but also served as a delivery vehicle for the Middlebury Independent and Crystal Valley Express newspapers that we published. I was selling ads, doing some artwork, layouts, and working weekends for a small salary. A year later, I found an advertising sales job at the local radio stations, WTRC-AM and WYEZ-FM, that became the basis of my career. 

I worked in some form of the advertising business for over 40-years before I was able to comfortably retire. The peak of my profession was a six-year span when I was the head of two different television stations and their respective websites. My responsibilities during this time included overseeing hundreds of employees in sales, news, marketing, art, production, and accounting, while reporting to the “Corporate Gods” and keeping us actively involved in the community. In retrospect, although I enjoyed being the head honcho and the respect that went with it, my happiest times were just selling ads, while not having to worry about the crazy aspects of management. All in all, I climbed the ladder of success but the most satisfaction came somewhere in the middle of that climb.