'BYE BYE BERMUDA'

My two years in Bermuda had four distinct aspects: Bermuda, ZBM, the Little Venice, and the Navy. In the big picture it's difficult to say which was the more important to me. The angels know for sure.

But, *I* think it was: Bermuda! With its cozy, welcoming, enchanting physical environment, Bermuda was an important assist to my developing young self. Reality was far easier to penetrate in that mellow atmosphere. The mind was free to roam through pastel landscapes, through soft, aromatic breezes, through the relaxed intricacies of a very different culture.

Even mundane choices were of a finer order in that little paradise: the question of which road to take often led to a discovery far greater than expected--and not only because of the changing scenery: A power was there, blowing in the wind, pounding on the shore, twinkling in the distance, and angel-dust swirled about me as I buzzed on down the road. Bermuda produced in me a sense of inner harmony and a vitality for life unlike anywhere else I've been.

The friendly, intelligent, international crowd at the Little Venice was the first group of like-minded souls I'd known. I'd only read of such people before. They were generally more experienced than I, but they were accepting and always youthfully good-natured, regardless of age. They were curious, open people for whom Truth and Picasso was priority stuff. Anyone was welcome to join the discussion, and from that point forward whether a person was real or unreal was all that mattered.

And, they put their money where their mouths were. When Joli's cute little mother paid a visit to the island, someone thoughtfully organized a party for her, and with that the word 'civility' was added to my vocabulary. Needless to say, the social atmosphere of Roseville, Michigan, was deficient in such kind regards, at least for me.

As for the Navy: They sent me to Bermuda, thank you Navy, and they gave me the respect of a billet compensory with my abilities. But military service was, in the long run, what I did not want life to be. Military life was too authoritarian for my sensitive young soul.

ZBM? What can I say? ZBM was a catalyst for life itself. The station handed me a career in an exciting, creative world. Perhaps more importantly, it brought hope into a young life that was in sore need of it at the time. ZBM opened another door as well, a door of respect and admiration...for me, that is. I can't say I haven't liked that, a lot. And ZBM also served royally as an answer to the question, "Is there room for kindness, creativity, and civility in the daily workplace?"

The Gurus tell us that when we move on to the next dimension we'll be with others who share our interests and concerns, that we'll be with the people and things that reflect our level of development. Well...we can still come close to that...even here on this lonely planet. I did. At the Little Venice, and at ZBM...on a beautiful little island where creative joy reigned for me in both thought and action, and where I blossomed into the full-fledged person I'd always been inside.

Thanks Bermuda, thanks Navy, and thank you gang at the Little Venice. Thanks Ken Ludwig, Jack Dodge, and Quinton Edness. Thank you ZBM, for letting me handle the reins and learn about a world apart from anything I'd ever known, a bright world of effortless responsibility, creative fun, and dreams come true.

At the end of it, I only wish I'd had the good sense that Jay Lloyd had...to perch myself on the boss's desk and simply refuse to leave. Because the fact is - whether in radio or in life - things would never again be as good. It's been wonderful reliving Bermuda.

When I left, I gave my radio show to Joli.