Unexpected and Sad

I woke up this morning to some sad news: Michael Bailey passed away last night.

I am well aware that chances are not one single reader of mine knows or cares who Michael Bailey is. He wasn't a famous actor, writer, spokesman, artist, or musician. He was just a local deejay on one of my radio stations. And yet, the news grieves me deeply.

Perhaps it's the fact that it comes so close to my losing Grandpa and Bill. Michael had been battling Leukemia for most of the year. I can't remember when exactly I remember hearing about it, but I do remember feeling sad for him, and yet amazed and happy that he continued as best he could with his passion for radio. Even when he got to the point that it was best for him to stay in his house rather than travel out to the office (and again later when he was confined to the hospital), he kept up his radio persona. They found a way for him to broadcast from whatever location he happened to be in.

I remember him doing a commercial for one of the local restaurants (the Melting Pot, perhaps? That was his favorite it seemed) around Father's Day and he mentioned that his health had improved enough that he was able to go out for dinner with the family. Even though it was intended to be a commercial for something else, I remember feeling the happiness that he was feeling better.

This morning, the morning listeners were calling in and commenting about the loss. I was in my usual rush to get ready, so I didn't have a chance to call in (and I'm not sure I would have anyway) but I decided that it was worth me taking a few minutes and commenting on regardless of venue.

Michael was the evening deejay for the station. He had a wonderfully pleasant and calm voice that made the drive home in the rush hour traffic much, much more relaxed. That soothing voice will truly be missed.

Those of us who listen to the station mostly in the a.m. knew Michael best as "Mr. Leaky Brain". Every morning, the show features a segment called "Stump the Jock" where listeners send in trivia questions to try and trip up the know-it-all deejay, Bruce (aka "Mr. Smarty-Pants"). On those days that Bruce would be gone (vacation, sick, whatever) Michael was usually the one they brought in to fill in for him and would then he would get stuck playing Stump the Jock with us. He wasn't as randomly knowledgeable as Mr. Smarty-Pants, so he was affectionately dubbed Mr. Leaky Brain as a result.

It's weird for me to walk around today and know that not everyone is affected by this information. In my tiny world of one, this is news on the level of losing Heath Ledger or Michael Jackson! In my mind, radio will never be the same again! I even shed a few tears for him and his family and his grieving listeners. And yet, like I said, not one of my readers will have been aware of this life-altering event until after reading this.

I'm just too sensitive. Probably the lack of sleep doesn't help.

On a completely unrelated (and opposite) note: I managed to get my paper written for class last night. It ended up being 7 pages. I hope the class forgives me for the length since I tried to include a little humor into the story. As far as the first revision of my poem, it's coming along surprising well (considering as of midnight last night I was staring blankly at my original poem and contemplating taking the zero). We'll see how it turns out.