Because I Can… the random thoughts of Marc Scott

Ray Charles – You Don’t Know Me

Beyonce has an alter ego, or at least that is what she tells us.  Sasha Fierce.  Apparenly Ms. Fierce only comes out on stage.  This alter ego allows Beyonce, if only for the duration of a performance, to become someone else.  Someone that she is not.  It sounds a little crazy, yet at the same time, a little appealing.

I blogged, about two weeks ago, on “The Show“.  In a nutshell, I explained that things aren’t always what they seem with me.  Ever since I posted that blog I’ve felt like maybe I didn’t dig quite deep enough, or perhaps explain quite well enough.  I’ve been trying to think of how I could better describe it.

I am a big fan of the Superman movies.  Who isn’t?  I am not a hardcore comic book guy or anything like that.  In fact, I don’t own a single Superman comic, nor do I believe that I ever have.  There is something very inspiring about the idea of flight though.  It would be even better if I could do it while still keeping my underwear inside my pants.  Superman was obviously a bit more bold than I.

As I thought through the analogy, what I realized is that I am a lot more Clark Kent than I am Superman.  I’m the quiet, mild mannered reporter.  The one who stumbles and fumbles through his day.  Socially awkward, shy with ladies and men alike.  A bit of  a wallflower.  A guy who seems to always get the job done, but is simply content to go unnoticed.  He neither needs, nor wants the attention.

Then there is Superman.  Everybody, on some level, wants to be Superman.  Superman is the high school quarterback.  Superman is Brad Pitt.  He is the guy the every other guy wants to be.  The one the people love.  The one who can do no wrong.  He is smooth, and heroic and charming and funny and brave and mysterious and popular, and all those things, those qualities, we all wish we had, but many of us don’t.

Radio, in 4 hour windows, allows me to try and channel my inner Superman.  It allows me to be something that I’m not, someone I’m not.  I am content to be Clark Kent, but even he becomes Superman from time to time!  I can be bold, and quick, and witty.  I can say things I woudn’t otherwise say.  Do things I wouldn’t otherwise do.  Talk to people I would otherwise never know.  In the midst of it all, I am protected by the anonymity of radio.  Radio is my suit and thick rimmed glasses.  Clark Kent has a phone booth, I have a studio.  I walk into the studio and become somebody else, and I as walk out of the studio, I am Clark Kent again.

It sounds perfect, and in many ways it is.  It gives me a chance to try and be a different version of myself, all the while never revealling who I am really.  What I have come to learn though, is that it also has a downside.  It gives people a false impression.  When all that somebody knows of me is the guy they hear on the radio, they really aren’t getting to know me at all.  I never thought much of it before, because there has always been a  seperation.  The guy on the radio, and the guy off the radio have never comingled.

I do what I do at work because they hire me to entertain.  Drive people home, and do it with fun and a smile, they say.  In reality, I am the last guy you should be asking to do that.  When I drive, sometimes I go for hours in silence and just take in the beauty and creation around me.  That won’t work on the radio though, so I put on a show.  I try to have fun.  I try to be fun.  People that really know me know it’s a show.  Most of them think it’s pretty funny too.  They know how far from actual reality that guy on the radio really is.

At the end of the day though, I don’t want there to be any confusion.  Off the air and outside of the studio, red undies or not, I wear them inside my pants.  Off the air, I am Clark Kent.

Beach Boys – Kokomo

I’m on vacation.  In fact, as I begin writing this now, I’ve officially been on vacation for 54 minutes.  30 of those were spent driving home from work. 9 of them were spent changing, getting a drink and looking for my slippers. 15 were spent working.  Did I mention that I don’t do vacation so well?  39 minutes into my vacation I was working.  Apparently I get bored easily!  I actually told my boss that by Wednesday I’d probably be calling him asking if I can come back early.

I did have a couple of ideas of things I wanted to do, but plans change as circumstances change.  When I bought my new truck last week that definitely changed my circumstances and plans.  I’m OK with that.  I really needed to replace my truck, and I got an amazing deal on my new one.  I will not be complaining.

I was thinking about my vacation this week, and realized that I have an interesting track record when it comes to holidays.  In fact, the last 3 times I went on vacation I ended up coming home and quitting my job.  Certainly that was never my intention any of the 3 times.  I guess these things just happen maybe.

When I mentioned this interesting little tidbit to a few people I got varied responses.  Some seemed genuinely concerned at the thought of me quitting my job.  A couple dear friends thought, here we go again.  I tried not to think about it too much, if I’m being honest.  I didn’t want to give myself any ideas perhaps?

Vacation means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.  For me, the over-thinker, it’s usually a time of reflection and possibility.  Looking back and looking ahead.  You know, the things you don’t have time to do when you’re not on vacation because you’re too busy.  I confess that it’s been in those times of reflection and possibility that I’ve been inspired to make a change, and that in turn lead to changes in life and/or career when I come home.

This week I will no doubt engage in some quality thought.  I will look back on the year that has passed and I will dream dreams for the year to come.  I will probably also sit around on the couch and watch old movies and drink Dr Pepper and eat grilled cheese sandwiches and grow a beard too.  Did I mention the best part of vacation is not having to shave?  I loathe shaving.  Oh wait.  If I’m not leaving home I’ll still be on call for the fire department.  Dang it.  No beard this year.

Back before I saw the light and switched to all Mac, I used to work on PC’s.  Here is the life lesson I learned from Windows 98, Windows 2000 and Windows XP.  When you try to do too many things… you crash.  You can only run so many programs and work on so many tasks before the system grinds to a halt and melts down.  We’re alot like that, you and I.  We can only handle so much.  Do so much.  Work so much.  Then we crash.  The only way to get started again is the reset.  That is what vacation is to me.  It’s a chance to hit the reset button on life, and come back refreshed, renewed, and ready to start again.

To those that listen… I promise… I will try and come back July 27th ready to start again! :p

I was doing some math yesterday.  For anybody that may have known me in High School, where I once scored less, yes, less than 1% on a math test, this may strike you as a bit of a surprise.  Truth is, I don’t know if I did the math right, but I think I did.  Basic skills really.  A little division.  I needed to figure something out.  Something about worth.

Worth is a funny thing isn’t it?  I mean, how we define it, I suppose is what is funny.  There tends to be a direct correlation between it and stuff.  Money.  Possessions.  Cars and trucks and big screen TV’s and side by side stainless steel refrigerators filled with name brand groceries because the no name stuff doesn’t taste as good.  That’s funny too.  I bet half of that stuff is made in the exact same factory, they just slap a different label on it and charge 50% more.

It would take me 2,900 years of doing what I’m doing right now… Afternoon Drive at FM 92.1, to make the same amount of money as Beyonce made in 2008.  When they give the figure of her income, it doesn’t seem so ridiculous.  Millions.  Billions.  Trillions.  It’s all normal now.  We toss those kind of numbers around every single day.  Worth.  Profit.  Debt.  That is why I did the math.  I wanted to try and gain a little perspective on it.  After I got it, then I mostly just wanted to curl up in a corner and cry.

I hope that Beyonce appreciates what I do for her.  After all, if it weren’t for the lowly radio guys like me, nowhere near as many people would hear her music and in turn, buy her records or go to her concerts.  It seems a little backwards to me.  Beyonce needs me more than I need her.  Still, I’d have to work 2,900 years to match her income last year.

Ryan Seacrest and I are a little bit alike.  We’re both broadcasters.  He does radio and TV.  I’ve done radio and TV.  Granted, he is better looking than I am.  He’s probably better at TV than I am too.  But outside of that, we’re about the same.  I would like to think my voice is a little less annoying, but I suppose I am biased on that front.

Seacrest signed his new Idol contract this week.  Keep in mind, this is only for Idol.  It doesn’t count the work he does for E! or KIIS FM.  I did a little math on that one as well.  Again, it’s all about bringing perspective.  What I determined, though I admit it’s not an exact science, is that 12.5 minutes into the first episode of American Idol Season 9, Ryan will have made what I make in a year.  Is he really that much better than I am?

The whole idea of celebrity is stupid to me, if I’m being honest.  I don’t necessarily blame the celebrities though.  Mostly, it’s us that made them what they are.  It is you and I whom have elevated these people to a higher level.  Why?  I’m not entirely sure.  But for some reason it’s as though we have convinced ourselves that these people are worth more than us.  That they are more intelligent, better at what they do, stronger, smarter, more athletic, take your pick.  The list is endless.

The higher that we elevate these people, the more out of control things get.  So while our country faces an economic crisis, and people are losing their jobs daily, a handful of people are making more money in 12 minutes than what most of us try and live off in a year.  While families struggle to pay rent or buy groceries, the celebrities are spending more money on a single dinner for two than we would spend to feed our family for a month.

There are all kinds of ways to try and justify the salaries, contracts and bonuses, but you’ll never convince me that it’s necessary.  And to that person reading this who is right now saying “if somebody offered you Seacrest’s contract you wouldn’t say no” I’d say you’re probably right.  I could do a lot of good with that kind of money.  Much more good than I am able to do with my kind of money.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m picking on Beyonce or Ryan Seacrest.  I’m not.  Understand that they are just the two that I read news stories about this week, so they are the two that got me thinking about all of this.

It just bothers me how we so easily elevate others above us, and then allow them to define our worth simply because they are famous or they make more money or they have a 100 bedroom mansion with 87 bathrooms.  We scream and swoon and suffer chest pains when we get a chance to meet them.  We ask them to sign pictures and t-shirts and body parts.  We go see their movies, buy their records, hang up their posters and follow their Twitter feeds.  In the midst of it all, we slowly devalue ourselves by over-valuing them.

What I am about to say is probably a little crude.  It may offend some people.  I apologize.  But I’ve been racking my brain all day trying to figure out the most effective, most blunt way to bring about perspective again.  How do I remind you that nobody has more worth, in the purest sense of the word, than you?  How do I remind you that true value is defined not by status or wealth, but by God who loves us all equally.  How do I make the celebrities we turn into idols, human beings the same as you and I.  The best I could come up with is this…no matter how you view them, what you think of them, or how high the pedestal is they are placed upon, at the end of the day their farts stink just as bad as mine.

It wasn’t quite a year ago when I last walked through the doors of the Mandarin.  There are two reasons for that.  First and foremost, it’s stinking expensive, and us common folk can’t afford those kind of fine dining experiences but once in a blue moon.  Second, I have little to no self control when presented with such a plentiful buffet, and tend to eat myself sick.

The occasion a year ago was a sad one.  Family and a few friends gathered after the funeral service for my Grandma.  I say sad not because of the funeral, but sad for the workers of the Mandarin because, sadly, they had no idea what was about to hit them!  I wouldn’t say we’re rowdy.  There is no drinking or carrying on.  We may be a little messy, perhaps a little too country for the big city buffet.  We also make sure to get our monies worth.  That’s a gentle way of saying each of us individually eats enough for all of us collectively.  I assure you, no profit is made when my family, as a whole, enters such an establishment.

My two little cousins are bit older now.  So that was good.  In the past it was customary to request a mop and bucket to be left at our table on standby.  I also kid you not, on one particular night out, we went through every waitress in the restaurant because each one of them couldn’t handle the continuous clean up and would pass us off to the next.  You may hear a rumor that it had more to do with each one of them wanting to check me out, but I assure you that is a flat out lie!  People were simply in denial about how messy our table really was that night.

As we wrapped up our dinner at the Mandarin we got our traditional fortune cookies.  I have yet to fully grasp the concept of the fortune cookie.  To this point, no cookie has ever brought me fortune.  I don’t give up hope though.  Maybe one day Confucius will hit the nail or the head, or my lucky numbers will really be lucky.  Or, maybe one day I’ll just call the telephone number in the small print and ask them who comes up with these things.  I digress.  On this particular August day, having recently been served with divorce papers, my fortune said the following, “You are doomed to be happy in wedlock.”

Can I ask you something?  What does that even mean?  Doomed to be happy?  Is that like when you have a friend who is large, and you nickname him Tiny?  I mean, “doomed” and “happy” are not words that I would typically place together with each other in that kind of sentence.  Nevertheless, I was amused by the irony of the timing.  Truthfully, I was feeling doomed alright.  Doomed to be alone, sad, broken and single… FOREVER!  I was feeling anything but doomed to be happy in wedlock.

Today I went on one of my spontaneous road trips.  Along the way I picked up my dad and took him to the Mandarin.  It was his Father’s Day gift.  A little late I know, but we haven’t been able to sync our schedules until today.  It was a good time.  Less mess.  Table for two.  As always, I ate myself to the point of ralphing.  It was good though.  No complaints.  Steak.  Chicken.  Shrimp.  Crab Legs.  And yes mom… lots of veggies!  Green beans, mushrooms, broccoli, carrots, peas.  A little bit of everything.

As expected, we got our fortune cookies at the end of the meal.  And, as always, I waited for the brilliant pearl of wisdom, truth, or revelation that was just waiting to be released.  I cracked the cookie, anticipation swelled up inside me as I removed the printed treasure inside.  As I began to read it, I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry.  ”You are doomed to be happy in wedlock.”

It’s amazing how much can change in a year.  My outlook being one of those things.  A year ago, as I read those words, I focused on “doomed.”  Today though, I focused on “happy in wedlock.”  Is it a coincidence that I got the exact same fortune almost 1 year later?  More than likely.  This time around though, it felt less like the end or something, and more like a second chance and a new beginning.

Since I announced my “BIG PLAN” on Friday, I’ve been getting a lot of messages from people wanting to know how they can help.  People have been getting in touch with me by email, Twitter and by calling into the station.  If you missed the “BIG PLAN” announcement, you can listen here.

Here are a couple of suggestions on how you can join me, Melissa, and FM92.1 in supporting the Brantford Food Bank.  At the end of the day, that’s what this whole “Twar” is about… supporting a great cause that needs our help!

One great challenge was put down by a Twitter follower @crazzie_cabbie.  They showed up at the radio station and dropped off a gift certificate for a local grocery store.  I will present that certificate to Heather from the Brantford Food Bank when I give her my cheque on Wednesday.  That would be an excellent way for you to do something.  The amount doesn’t matter.  Think about it, if 100 people just gave $5 that would go a long, long way!  Every little bit helps!  If you don’t have the time to go and get a gift certificate, or would just prefer to donate cash, that works to!

If you want to drop it off at CKPC so I can present it to Heather live on the air, that would be sweet!  Drop off your donations at 571 West Street in Brantford Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday.  Office hours are 9a-5p.  But remember, the deadline, and cheque presentation to the Food Bank will take place live on my show Wednesday July 15 at 3p.

Another one of my Twitter followers told me she was going to start an office challenge.  That’s an awesome idea!  She was going to put a bin in her office and start collecting donations from all her co-workers.  Brilliant!  If you work in an office setting, check with the boss and make it happen!  If you do it, let me know and I’ll make sure to give you a shout out on my show!  Tweet me!

Remember to follow me, and to tell your friends and family to follow me too.  The pledge is $1 for every new follower up to $1000.  http://twitter.com/MarcScott.  You should follow Melissa too!  http://twitter.com/DJMelissa.

If you have another idea or want to make a different challenge, let me know and I’ll post it on this blog, promote it on my show, and post it on the FM 92.1 web site at http://ckpcfm.com.  Everybody can do something, so lets get together and do something awesome for our community!

I bought a new truck this week.  I needed one.  Well, that’s what I tell myself, and anybody else that asks as well.  My old truck was, well, old.  It was a great truck.  A faithful truck.  But it was ready for retirement.  It had definitely earned it.  I didn’t mean to buy a new truck so fast, but I tend to be a little spontaneous about my vehicle purchases.  It’s a bit of a disorder.  Nowhere near as bad as it used to be, but a disorder nevertheless.

I love my new truck.  I love it so much that I’m going to pay for it for the next 5 years.  That’s a pretty serious commitment.  Not to make light, but truth be told, that commitment will last longer than my marriage.  I suppose I shouldn’t joke about things like that, but, what else am I going to do?  I didn’t take to kindly to the idea of being divorced with little to no say in the matter.  So I suppose I use humor as my defense mechanism.  This is, however, not the point of the blog.

As I drove my new truck home I felt blessed.  I was reminded how, despite all the trials I have lived through, and trust me, there have been trials, overall, I am exceedingly blessed.  Am I wealthy?  In the financial sense, certainly not.  Does God meet my needs daily?  Indeed he does!  I am blessed.

I’ve got this competition going on with one of the girls at work.  It’s silly really.  But it’s fun.  And if you can’t have fun at work, then maybe you need to find a new job!  We’re competing for Twitter followers.  Like I said, silly.  The deal she put on the table was that if she could surpass me in the number of followers by next Wednesday, July 15, then I would go to her house and clean her bathrooms in my firefighter gear.  She would then take pictures and post them on the radio station web site.  Personally, I don’t get it.  Who wants to see pictures of me in my firefighter gear, cleaning?  As I am slowly coming to learn, however, there are many things I apparently do not understand about women!

I wanted to win this little “Twar” (that’s what you get when you take Twitter and start a war).  Yesterday afternoon I started thinking about ways I could win.  Then I thought about ways somebody else could win.  Then I had a brainstorm.  There was no rain.  No thunder.  No lightning.  But it was a storm nevertheless.  In the end, I came up with, what I thought, was a brilliant plan.  I was beyond blessed this week when I brought my new truck home.  I decided I needed to pay it forward.

On my show today I made an annoucement.  I hyped my “BIG PLAN” all night last night, and all morning today on Twitter.  At 3:09p I revealed it live on the air.  With a representative from the Brantford Food Bank on the air with me, I pledged to donate $1 for every new follower I added on Twitter, up to a total of 1000 followers, or, $1000.  The deadline for the bet between Melissa and I is Wednesday afternoon.  Follow me!

It’s so easy for us to get caught up in our stuff.  Our cars and trucks and boats and motorcycles.  Our full fridges and our overloaded pantries.  Our flatscreen TV’s and surround sound systems and our computers and cell phones.  We busy ourselves so much with all our stuff that we can forget about the real, honest need that is out there.  The need doesn’t exist only in Africa!  It exists in our own backyards!  Times are tough all over the place.

The Brantford Food Bank has seen an overwhelming increase in use in the past couple of months.  Just in June alone 1200 families came to them looking for a helping hand.  Appeals have been put out for help.  They need it.  It’s so easy to do to.  What’s a couple cans of tuna, some soup, a couple of boxes of Kraft Dinner and a loaf of bread going to cost you?  $10?  Do you know how much something so little can mean to a family with unemployed parents due to the recession?

Jesus said whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.  He doesn’t suggest we help.  He commands we help.  We need to be reminded how blessed we are.  Sometimes, we need a little perspective brought into our lives.  I got it when I bought my new truck.  How can I enjoy something like that, knowing full well that a family in my town won’t eat dinner tonight?

I sound like a World Vision commercial, and you know what.  That’s fine.  I don’t care.  Truth is truth, and that’s all there is to it.  Do with it what you will.  I just hope you’ll help.  And if you don’t live in Brantford, find your own local food bank.  All it takes is one or two extra items the next time you’re in the grocery store.  Every little bit adds up!  Maybe you can’t do $1000 over a silly little bet.  But everybody can do something!

If you missed the “BIG PLAN” announcement on my show today, here it is.

In my ongoing battle will Melissa to gain followers on Twitter I have uped the ante, so to speak.  If I win, I will personally donate $1 for every new follower I get on Twitter, up to $1000, to the Brantford Food Bank.

PLUS… if I gain 1000 new followers by Wednesday (the deadline) I will still allow Melissa to take her pictures of me cleaning her toilet in my firefighter gear and post them on the web site!  If you’re not following me on Twitter yet, now would be a good time to start! http://twitter.com/MarcScott

Perception is a strange and mysterious thing.  I’m always intrigued by how two people can look at the exact same object, read the exact same sentence, or know the exact same person, and yet, see two entirely different things.  If you ask me, it’s all part of the wonder of creation.  How we use our eyes and ears and nose and touch and mouth and then put all the pieces of the puzzle together with our brains.  So many interpretations that aren’t right and aren’t wrong.  They just are.

I am not fun.  I made this revelation to the world earlier today on Twitter.  My actual tweet was, “Confession: I am nowhere near as fun as people think I am from listening. Sorry.  In fact, off air, I am as boring as whale snot.” No foolin’.”

I had a conversation with one of my cousin’s this weekend at a family reunion.  He said that he laughs every time he hears me on the radio because he knows me, and he knows that off the air, I stand in the corner and don’t speak four words in an entire night.  But yet, there I am, on the radio, talking away and driving people home everyday.  He’s right you know.  Off the air, I am somebody else.

This may seem an odd confession.  It may even seem a bit deceiving.  Especially to those that listen to me daily.  Is the whole thing a sham?  Is it a lie?  Have I just pulled back the curtain and revealed that the wizard really isn’t a wizard at all?  Maybe, I suppose.

Another dear friend of mine teases me about my multiple personality disorder.  The thing is, maybe she is actually on to something.  Before you assume I’m admitting I’m nuts, just roll with me for a moment.  I think the truth is simply that there is the “on air” Marc and the “off air” Marc.

Radio is meant to be entertaining.  I am hired, quite literally, to do “a show.”  That’s what they call it.  The “Wake Up Show” the “Drive Show” it’s all show.  So this is what I do.  I try to entertain.  I try to put on a good show.  Where it gets confusing is that, for many people, all they know of me is the show.  So their perception is defined by this 4 hour a day glimpse into who I am.

Off the air, I really am, as I said, boring as whale snot.  I drink milk.  White.  I eat chips.  Plain.  I sit in my apartment, dimly lit with a few candles, and I fall asleep on the couch.  Sometimes I have the TV on.  Other times I don’t.  I don’t really go to the movies, or out for dinner or even bowling.  Off the air my life is quiet, simple, boring.  Occasionally I respond to fire calls, but that’s about it.  I am not nearly as fascinating as some would think, or like to think.

I feel bad because I often get emails and notes from people who listen to me on the radio and want to get to know me better because I seem like fun.  I guess that is all part of the mystery of perception.  Perhaps, to some, I sound fun.  But in reality, not so much.  So I just wanted to let everybody know.  If you keep listening, I’ll keep giving you a show, but mostly, that is all it is.