Oh, boy, a four-day work week. I could live this way. At this point, I know a mass 4-day work week won’t happen in my lifetime. Or, more correctly, in my working lifetime.

I’m not to the finish line, but I can see it. The joy I used to feel for accomplishing amazing amounts of projects every week is starting to fade. Part of my desire to give up the radio part of my career has to do with the fact I want to exit while I can still give it my all. While I’m still delivering my best stuff. To get out before I start walking through things. That, to me, is a sin.

So, at this particular point in time, a good majority of everything I do is on the chopping block. The days of “Look at how I can multi-task like a mad man” are fading. I’m looking at all the things I do that fill my waking hours and trying to figure out what I can trim, which will give me more time to relax and better enjoy the things I’ll keep doing. Oh, I’ll keep doing things.

I take on so many of the things that I do, voluntarily (most do not involve money) because I sincerely care about them. In the past half-decade, two of my favorite events have gone away–The annual “Welcome to Santa” at the Country Village Shopping Center in Bothell (the event and the Village are now long gone) and being the on-camera host for Bothell’s “Freedom Festival” Parade on the 4th of July. Someone at city hall wanted to take the event “a different direction.”

But one of the traditions I will never let go is venturing over to the Evergreen Washelli cemetery on Memorial Day, view row after row of flags and headstones, snap a few pictures, realize how lucky we are and how thankful we should be for those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Commitments prevented me from visiting this special place on Memorial Day itself, so Tuesday morning–the day after–I got an early start and headed over before they started picking up all the flags they had put out. Every year, to Evergreen Washelli’s credit, they make the effort to pressure wash over 5,000 military headstones and then, volunteers place an American flag on each and every gravesite.

It makes you think. It makes you cherish every breath you take just a little bit more.

Coming up on birthday number 68 in the fall (God, that sounds old), I don’t know how I got here. But I know that underneath every single one of those flags are the remains of someone denied a lifetime. Men and women who had big plans, but never got to realize them. Soldiers that meant to come back and realize their own American dream.

And that’s when I get all schmaltzy and weepy-eyed. We’re so quick to complain about how things are or how they should be, when the bottom-line is that we’re still here–to smell that coffee in the morning, to hang with friends, go on vacations, or just savor a sunset.

Hank Williams had a song called, “I’ll never get out of this world alive,” which is true. But these soldiers are a special group of fellow citizens who took a chunk of their precious time on this earth to serve our country. Some drafted, some volunteered, with so many never finding out what was waiting for them when their days with the military were finally over.

I will continue to look for things to trim from my routine. But treating myself each year to a couple of moments of reflection and appreciation every Memorial Day to express my thanks to those heroes is the absolute least that I can do.

Thank you.

Tim Hunter

It’s funny. During your younger years, retirement seems like forever away. Those “Golden Years” will arrive eventually and I’ll deal with them at that time.

In your 20s, you can’t even imagine it. When your 30s roll around, people keep telling you that you should be stashing money for that eventual phase of your life. Yet, it’s still hard to comprehend.

I was in my 40s when I started feeling obligated that I should be doing something towards the cause. After all, it was just a short two decades away and by that time, you’ve put four of them in the books.

Then in your 50s, you start to worry that you didn’t do enough, that it’s too late, that Social Security will run out or not be enough. Next thing you know, your 60s arrive and it starts to get serious.

I’ve had a very, very diverse career path, starting out mowing lawns, then a real job at Sears, some United Airlines flight kitchen stints during summers while in college. And then, I graduated and headed out into the world to play radio.

My first college radio broadcasts were in 1975. I can count up 8 sets of call letters that I’ve been a part of, with the most recent being KRKO in Everett, aka “Everett’s Greatest Hits.” This was really a bonus gig, as I had decided years ago that I didn’t want to plunge back into radio full-time again, especially after the collapse of the Murdock, Hunter and Alice show in 2003.

That was the beginning of my personal reinvention. I went from goofball radio personality to copywriter, comedy writer and picking up another half-dozen skills from my near decade at a local advertising agency. I had already been using Tim Hunter Creative Services as an umbrella for all my freelance work, but I started to build that up while also working as the creative director of my buddy Corey Newton’s agency, Create Impulse.

My basic thinking was, rather than put all my eggs into one unstable radio basket, I would diversify and have a lot of different irons in the fire. These days, I have at least 8 different sources of revenue coming in that allow me to have a pretty accommodating schedule. However, the work still needs to get done.

Back in 2018, Everett’s KRKO flipped from a Sports Talk format to a “greatest hits” format, featuring songs I grew up with and that I played on the radio years ago. I sniffed around about maybe cutting some tracks for them and the next thing you know, we were putting a deal together for me to do the morning show.

Now, I had been on the air before solo, but when the KLSY thing blew up and I found myself on “The Wolf”, I realized that it wasn’t just being on the radio that I missed so much, as it was the playground of two or three people playing off each other. That’s why after a year of playing country music at The Wolf, I let radio go and did the reinvention thing.

But all these years later–basically, 14 years after my last shift at The Wolf–I still had the radio bug and I wanted to prove to myself and everyone listening that I could still do this. When a station makes a change like KLSY did and just upends your career, you have that feeling of “I want to show those bastards I’ve still got it” and for the last five years, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

But now, the amount of time it takes each day for me to do a morning show full of fun, original comedy and quirky bits–which is what I love to do–is just too much. If I give up the morning show, I will reclaim a minimum of 60 hours a month to do other things, or even just make the multiple jobs I’m doing now easier to achieve.

So, I’ve notified the station that I’m done. Oh, not right away, but I would like them to find someone to take over the gig. I’ve given KRKO nothing but my best for almost five years and I could keep doing this if I scaled things back or did lesser breaks, etc, and just become a talking voice. But that’s not a Tim Hunter radio show.

I hate when you refer to yourself in the third person. Really? Me, too!

You know, after KOMO radio squeezed out my old boss, Larry Nelson, they were far from gracious. When that happened, I kept telling Larry, “You need to get back on the air! People miss you!” and he replied, “Timmy, I’m done.”

I didn’t understand it then. I really get it now.

Once you get rid of that need to prove yourself to people and realize you’ve already done that over the span of your career, you can let go. I will continue writing for Radio-Online which I’ve been doing for a couple of decades now. That will keep me up on current events and its basically writing a radio show every day, just not having to record and produce it.

KRKO has been informed of my intent, a press release will eventually follow and the search for my replacement will go on. My hope is for sooner than later, so that I can trim back the rather hectic pace of my current lifestyle. In the meantime, I’ll try to savor my last couple of weeks in broadcasting, as I get ready to hang up the headphones for good.

Retirement. It won’t be a declared “Retirement Day”, but rather a series of identifying things and letting go, one by one.

And so it begins….

Tim Hunter

Did you ever have an experience that, once you got through it, you asked yourself, “Did that really just happen?”

I had one of those this past weekend that I thought I would share.

So, I went to one of the many, many, many locations of a coffee shop let’s call “Schmarbucks.” The young lady behind the counter who struggled to get out, “May I help you?” was obviously new at her job. I had a son who cut his working teeth at a couple of “Schmarbucks” in his youth, so I get it. We all start somewhere.

When I responded with my order, I said, “I’d like a Grande Oat Milk Latte, please.” A fairly simple order and my go-to choice. She was a meek, shy, timid, slightly bashful, not-really-outgoing person and to make matters worse, she was wearing a face mask. She replied to me, in a soft, hushed tone, “salhwlhwwhefaoh29u9q1qakdenal.” I asked, “What?” and she whispered slightly louder, “salhwlhwwhefaoh29u9q1qakdenal.” After an awkward pause, I finally had to admit I just didn’t understand her and she raised her voice to a loud, hushed whisper, “We’re out of oat milk.”

Oh. So, I instructed her to just make it soy milk. She worked the register for a second and then, another volley of attempted sound came my way: “klj2348y92-ijn buidsxyg0ejnkjewadqg7yaqy9pj??????” Rather than have her think I was a deaf geezer or to keep this conversation going any longer than necessary, I rolled the dice and shot out a “Yes”, hoping it would work in my favor. I paid for the beverage, and then stepped aside to await my drink.

Moments later, I found out what she had said, thanks for an audible Schmarkbucks employee: “Triple Shot Oatmilk Latte for Tim!”

Perfect.

So, now, as I walked away and began caffeinating my brain, I started thinking–wait a minute! This Schmarbucks was located inside a QFC grocery store, where they have an entire refrigerator section dedicated to Oat Milk. Couldn’t one of you just run over to the dairy section and grab a jug? It’s not like there’s a shortage. I almost asked, “If I go over and buy some, then can I have oat milk?”

But I was afraid to do that out of concern what the new girl with the mask might say about me. Especially since I’d probably not be able to both hear it and understand it.

Man, coffee drinking can be stressful.

Tim Hunter

Everything seems to have a sequel these days, so why not the topic of Time Vampires?

I first identified this phenomenon back in 2021 in this blog but I’ve made several observations since then, as I continue my study of these unseen creatures that rob us all of our most precious commodity.

Their best work is done over weekends, as I’m sure you’ve noticed how fast they go by. But you would think after a busy could of days of devouring our time on the weekends that on Monday, they might relax a bit with their bellies full and give us a couple of days off.

But you see, the more they eat, the more they want. And Mondays apparently are the unofficial Thanksgiving Day of the work week for Time Vampires.

You wake up, start to plan out your day and the schedule appears to be very doable. Project 1, followed by project 2 and so on. A nicely-paced way to start out a new work week.

But then, an unplanned project emerges, followed by another. You check your email, and there are two more! The time you allotted for the day’s tasks was already fairly tight, but now, it will require strict focus and careful balancing. Then one of the tasks you finished needs a revision and instantly, the hour in which it should have been accomplished is now 90 minutes. Which means, you’ll have to speed through some of the upcoming projects in order to get them all done today. Then you start thinking, “What can I bump to tomorrow?” But if you do that, tomorrow’s schedule has already suffered its first Time Vampire attack.

I’m reminded of the old adage, “Why put off something to tomorrow when you could put it off to the day after tomorrow?”

I’ll be honest, I have never actually seen a Time Vampire, but I asked OpenAI.com to create a picture of what it could look like.

To me, that looks like one of the blood-sucking varieties of vampires, but blood I can spare. My body can make more. Time, niw that’s a valuable, irreplaceable commodity.

I don’t have an answer for Time Vampires. For that matter, I don’t even have a question. I just know they exist and that three more came in the room this morning while I was writing this. I think they’re holding their annual convention in my office.

The bottom line–just know they are real and the more you’re aware they exist, the better you’ll be able to minimize their effects.

Good luck.

Tim Hunter

Looking back on my life, I don’t exactly know what steered me towards a love of comedy. Actually, in watching my mom over the years, it made me realize that she was probably the one that handed down the comedy genes. She has always displayed a quick wit and if you know Fran, you know she absolutely loves to laugh.

As I grew up in our southern California home, I watched shows on TV like “The Time Tunnel”, “Lost in Space”, and others (I still remember when the school sent home a notice to our parents that we shouldn’t be allowed to watch “Combat” because it was “too violent”), the majority of what I tuned in those formulative years were comedies. “Get Smart”, “Bewitched”, “The Jack Benny Show”, “I Dream of Jeannie”, even “The Mother-in-Laws”. When a Bob Hope special or an Alan King “Friar’s Roast” was on, I’d never miss it. And then, of course, there was “Laugh In.”

As I confessed before, on Tuesday nights, my sisters went to their room, I went to mine and then, shortly after tuck-in, mom would come into my room where the TV lived (which is now “the den”) and she’d flip on “The Red Skelton Show.” I’d get to postpone my sleep until Red’s final “Good night and may God bless” at 9:30.

During my high school years, I bought many a comedy album from the likes of Cheech ‘n Chong (I think I bought every one that came out), Tim Conway, Monty Python and Don Rickles.

Somewhere along the line, I went from watching and enjoying comedy to creating it. In high school, I scratched out a rough comedy film script based on my high school experiences, called “T.H.S.” (which stood for Torrance High School, my alma mater). It’s somewhere in our basement. Also, during those high school days, I would get home from school and head straight to the TV to catch the syndicated “Steve Allen Show” because he was just so darn funny. (I was lucky enough to interview him twice during my days at KOMO radio)

But after college and wandering into radio as my chosen career, I began to seriously study short-form comedy. One or two setup lines, and then a punchline. I’d watch Carson do it every night in his monologue and in the newspaper (an ancient form of communication where everything that now shows up on your phone was printed on paper the day before), I’d always look for content from a guy named Mark Russell.

Mark did a lot of political comedy, but he also came up with some lines on topics regular folks could enjoy. The timing of his career was perfect because those were the last days when you can make fun of both sides and not be labeled as a sympathizer for the enemy side. He was just funny. A couple of examples:

“Sometimes you become so focused on protecting people from danger that you become the danger.”

“No offense, but it seems like the whole point of civilization is to get someone else to do your killing for you.”

“Of course, with any new technology, the question in the back of everyone’s mind is ‘Can I have sex with it or use it to kill people?'”

“The scientific theory I like best is that the rings of Saturn are composed entirely of lost airline luggage.”

“A Consultant is a guy who knows 125 different ways to make love, but who doesn’t know any women.”

But like I said, he would also get political:

“You’ve got the brain-washed, that’s the Democrats, and the brain-dead, that’s the Republicans!”

“I believe that Bill Clinton’s second term will be good for business… my business!”

“The Republicans have a new healthcare proposal: Just say NO to illness!”

Mr. Russell had his column in the newspapers (always on the editorial page) and did various comedy specials on PBS, as well as touring the country with lives performances. He did what he loved, all the way up to the end, which was last Thursday, when he passed at the age of 90.

He was witty and brilliant and talented. He played the piano at his performances and wrote some parody songs. I hope you were able to catch some of his comedy over the years. If not, here’s just a taste of his style and wit.

I think Mark Russell’s life illustrates what I like so much about comedy. We all hope to leave some kind of legacy behind, for our kids and for future generations. So, when you think about it, how precious is leaving behind ways to make people laugh? That’s gold and a treasure awaiting future generations to discover.

I never had the chance to catch him in concert or meet him in person, but if I had, the first think I would have said to him was, “Thanks Mark, for all you gave us.”

And with that, another Master is gone.

Tim Hunter

I have lots of things I look forward to doing every year. Parades, auctions, celebrations, birthdays, you name it.

The ones you enjoy, you keep doing. The ones that just aren’t as fun as they used to be, you just let go. Frankly, it seems like when I let go of something, several things show up immediately offering to take its place.

I live a busy life, each week a carefully crafted collection of duties, jobs, responsibilities and personal projects that easily fill up a 60+ hour week.

But when March arrives, there’s little else I think about but the first of the next month, because that’s the day I post a silly video I assembled every year for April Fool’s Day called, “National Gullible Day.”

It’s a newscast, that gives me a flexible forum in which to create comedy–some original, some borrowed (no one’s getting rich here) and a chance to put the spotlight on some of my funny friends.

This year marks the 8th annual National Gullible Day observance, as the fictious NGD Network broadcasts the various ways that people celebrate the holiday. My reporting staff has changed a lot over the years, between trying to spread the wealth among friends, while also working in those who like to play along. So yeah, watch a couple of them, and you’ll see several encore performances from some of my brothers and sisters in comedy.

The 2023 edition of National Gullible Day News coverage will begin airing at 12:01am this Saturday morning on my YouTube channel. It will also live on nationalgullibleday.org, where you can also watch all 7 of the previous years’ efforts.

So, what’s new in 2023? You’ll have to watch to find out, but I do feel these are getting funnier and funnier each year.

And for the first time, I’ve actually put together a promo for the broadcast:

With all that’s wrong with the world these days, it’s my hope that I can somehow provide an escape–although brief–into this fun collection of silliness.

My thanks to all those who have helped out over the years and especially to those who stepped up this year to make this marvel to share with the world. If you’d ask me, “What’s your passion project?”, I actually have quite a few, but this is the motherlode. I’m just one interview away from having all the pieces, finalizing the production, and setting the phasers to broadcast.

Here we go again! I can’t wait.

Tim Hunter

PS And to cut down on your clicks, here’s this year’s edition of National Gullible Day.