This story makes me incredibly sad. I’ve known Kathy Adelman Naro since she was just Kathy Adelman. We’ve had a friendly relationship, if you can call it that, for well over ten years. Mostly it’s been small talk about basketball or something to do with one of the tournaments I help run during the summer. I’ve always been impressed by how she works with her players and how upbeat she’s always been with them. Whenever I saw her on the bench, she always made each one of them feel special. Having watched hundreds of basketball coaches over the years, I can tell you she’s got a skill with kids that’s rare.
It’s been less than a year since the Trib’s Kerry Eggers wrote up a nice article about Kathy’s battle with postpartum depression. I wanted badly to reach out to her this summer and let her know how much her story affected me. Alas I’m shy about such things. Why I’ll talk about them here and not face-to-face with someone is something I suppose I should work on. Oh well.
Her family is going to get pounded on in the media for the next few days. It sucks because I know they’re all much more than just a last name. There are dozens of stories out there just like the Adelmans’, but none of them makes the front page of the paper. And in the age of the blog they get the double-bonus of Internet trolls making light of their situation. Of course they do this because they only know the Adelmans as pixels on a TV or computer monitor rather than as flesh and blood people. I can’t imagine living something like this out in the media. I just can’t.
It’s easy and a little trite to say I hope she gets the help and support she needs. People say that about celebrities and people they don’t know all the time. In this case, I say this about a friend. It hurts me to see a friend like this. I hope to see her in a better time and place soon.
The “less talk” thing kind of hits home this week as somewhere in the netherreaches of CBS Radio, a decision was made this week to muzzle Rick Emerson and turn him into a DJ who can give me the time and temperature but little else. Instead of filling my head with amusing anecdotes and obscure pop culture references, The Rick Emerson Show is now something that plays between Rush and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. And that’s no way to live.
Rick, Tim, and Sarah have been pros throughout this entire thing. They’ve carried on and made no mention of what’s happened either on-air or off. They certainly haven’t talked to me, not that I’ve asked. That said, I miss my friends.
There’s a blog dedicated to restoring the show to its former self. I’ll be swinging by the studios this week to drop off some Viso and a couple of coffee cups for station management. Hopefully this will be a temporary thing and we can all get back to geek talk in sort order.
Thinking about it today, I thought about my own struggles with mental health. The thing is, no matter how sunny things are in your life, and right now it’s nothing but blue skies and ocean breezes in mine, that little black cloud is always around. And you’re always aware of it. It could be over your shoulder. It could be way out on the horizon. But it’s there. It’s kind of comforting in a way, because you know you can always run to it and find refuge. You can hide inside it and shut out the rest of the world. Sometimes it’s a struggle to keep looking ahead, goodness knows I’ve had my moments.
So we soldier on. We’ll watch and see what Steve is up to. We’ll keep an eye on the band too. It won’t be the same. But then, that’s what adulthood is all about, isn’t it?
My old high school classmate Glenn Laubaugh had a small op-ed in yesterday’s O.
The fact is that the Columbia Crossing project will not even touch the worst freight congestion spot on the West Coast — yet if it did address that congested 10-mile piece of railroad, the price of that expensive Columbia Crossing project may well be reduced.
A decade ago, Glenn warned about the loss of the Burlington Northern yards in what is now the Pearl. He said it would have tremendous consequences for freight. And here we are.
If he somehow finds this, Glenn is welcome to as much space as he’d like to present the Laubaugh Plan for untangling the bottleneck and getting freight moving through the area.
Tim Riley was let go today by CBS Portland. Management, in a rare display of…sympathy?, let Tim on the air today to say goodbye. This is very rare in radio. Riley is truly loved and respected by all.
I sent in my tribute to the Rick Emerson show today. I’m not sure whether it was read. Either way, here it is:
I didn’t know the rules for engagement with Tim Riley when I first met him at Bigger Than Jesus. I rushed him, shook his hand, and cornered him like a rabbit for what must have seemed to him like forever. He tried to escape. I kept pelting him with questions and adulation. It would be several years before I learned…
Since then I’ve figure out to only speak when spoken to and speak in short declarative sentences. And avoid eye contact.
I’ve loved Tim from the first time I heard him on the radio. I KNOW I was the only person up and around at 6 am listening to his breaks during Imus back in the day. I enjoyed them even if he didn’t enjoy giving them.
Godspeed, sir. The Rick Emerson Show and my minor participation in it won’t be the same.
Starting December 7, Aaron “Geek in the City” Duran and a cast of thousands will be writing and performing live radio dramas each Sunday night on KCMD AM970 (radio home of your Portland Pilots!). The first two plays sound spectacular:
The first play, A.Z. (After Zombies), takes place in modern-day Portland, Oregon, with one crucial difference: the zombies have come, bringing death, bringing despair, and putting humanity’s very existence at risk. A small group of determined survivors must fight starvation, the elements, and each other—knowing that the price of failure is the extinction of the human race. You’ll never view the dark, rain-slicked streets of the Rose City the same way again.
The second play, The Crimson Mist, is also set in Portland, but this time it’s Portland circa 1943. Crime is rampant, corruption is epidemic, and only one man stands between our fair city and the grip of evil…The Crimson Mist. Written in the style of such classic superhero serials as Doc Savage and The Shadow, The Crimson Mist is a return to the elements that defined the radio adventure series: bold, courageous heroes (and heroines!), sinister villains, crackling, fast-paced dialogue, and the satisfying –though suspenseful– triumph of good over evil.
I’ve been priviledged enough to be invited to a few of this group’s gatherings over the last several months. They’ve been kicking this idea around since the spring. I’m glad they’ve finally gotten it off the ground.
Do tune in. These folks are all true radio fans. They’re going to put on a fantastic show.
My old college dorm mate Brian Prawitz will be calling plays on the radio for the U of O starting this spring. When I lived in Seattle in 2001 and 2002, Prawitz was the sports guy for KIRO radio and was a locker room reporter for the Mariners, his favorite team growing up. Now he’s going to be calling the action alongside Voice of the Ducks, Jerry Allen. Prawitz will say he’s the luckiest guy alive, but the reverse is true. He’s a consumate pro who’ll make Duck broadcasts outstanding. Even though I’m a Beaver fan, I’ll be tuning in.
Kerry Eggers has an excellent article about Kathy Adelman Naro in the Trib this morning, I’ve known Kathy through my work with girls basketball for over a decade now. She’s one of the better coaches in the state. While that’s not saying much, as most of the girls coaching in Oregon is abysmal, she’s a good one. She knows the game and is fantastic with her players. That’s a rare combination. Jesuit is lucky to have her.
I had no idea she’d been dealing with depression. Looking back on last season, I don’t think I ever noticed she wasn’t around. Of course I didn’t spend a lot of time in the Metro League, either. Anyway, I’m glad she’s doing well. As one who’s battled depression off and on for years, I can tell you it’s not easy admitting it and it’s not easy recovering from it.
I once heard that writers write because they can’t help themselves. For a time that was me. I wrote, I wrote some more and then, I wrote a book. I joined this club and that blog ring and this link sharing program. I loved it all. But was I writing? I came here to tell the story of an abused kid who turned out ok. I came here to tell a story about a girl who once lived in a car, turned woman, turned something. But what happens after you become a woman or “something”? After all that “becoming” what else is there? I once wrote because I couldn’t help myself. Now I look at the computer and feel consuming guilt.
I hear you, sister. Sometimes I just look at this and wonder what the point is.
