Bud Harrelson & A Glove of Their Own: Giving Back To NJ Radio

I wouldn't say that Tony Danza is a close personal friend.  I would say that he likes baseball and he's been one of my biggest fans since Alyssa Milano went through her "I will stalk all living baseball players" phase back in the early-2000s.  I write this only to name drop.  Sure, I could have gotten your attention writing about my close, personal ties to Joan Rivers and Alan Thicke.  I could have stated that I've already given $75 to Frank Stallone to sing the eulogy at my funeral, should I (however unlikely) pre-decease him.  But I think Tony Danza was the right guy to lead off with as I write about something that has nothing to do with Tony, his wonderful career, and his hair.

No.  Today you need to understand one thing.  I'm a giver.  I gave blood once in 1994.  I once gave a clubhouse boy $11 to get me a sandwich (his profit was more than $1.11).  I gave up a home run ball to Barry Bonds in 2001.  Well, I gave up a number of home run balls to Barry Bonds.  The fact is, I am a giving person.  I once read "The Giving Tree," a children's book about giving that I couldn't understand but pretended to completely comprehend.  See?  I don't want to say out loud that I'm better than you.  So maybe I'll just write it.

"Jimmy," you ask, nose running from an early-spring cold, "why do you boast so strongly this day?  Why do you, once again, impress us with how much better you are than us?"

I'll tell you.  I do it to educate.  I do it to help you to understand how "the other half" lives, even though the recession has turned "the other half" more into "the other 6/16th."  You need to "get" me in order to love me (at least that's what I told Vanessa on our first date, which was followed by a 2nd date only 17 months later).

"So educate us," you bellow out loud.  "At least you can give us that."

Fine.  It is my place today to educate the impatient who don't want to hear all about Tony Danza. 

Where do I start?  Not the beginning.  That would take too long.  Instead, let's travel together to a small New Jersey radio station, WOBM-FM.  If you live in "the NJ," you can find it at 92.7 on your FM dial.  Let me re-phrase: If you live in Ocean County in "the NJ," you can find it at 92.7 on your FM dial.  If you live at all, anywhere, you can just go to the 92.7 FM website.  So let's say you did that.  Let's say you streamed the station through the speakers of your laptop or desktop or "killer app."  What you could have heard, very recently, were the soft sounds of Shawn & Sue, WOBM's semi-amazing morning team, talking about Shawn's ingrown toenail or Sue's decision to buy hair extensions for a neighbor named "Ed."  Then, you just might have had the great fortune to hear them speak about A Glove Of Their Own.  You know this book.  It's like "The Giving Tree," only it's about baseball, the pictures are in color, and you can understand it.  I've written about it before, sometimes in English.  Read THIS and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about (not literally, since I'm writing and not talking to you at this very second.) 

New paragraph time!

There is a man who some call "Bob."  His real name is Bob Salomon, or at least that's the name he goes by.  Nobody's ever seen a birth certificate or conducted a blood test to confirm he is who he says he is (I'm not starting a conspiracy theory, just asking questions as any good human should do when he assumes someone else is an alien life form).  Anypoop, Bob is the marketing guru behind A Glove Of Their Own.  No, he didn't write the book.  He can barely write his name.  But he claims he can read.  He's read A Glove Of Their Own, and, being the kind of guy who can comprehend children's books (unlike yours truly), he liked it so much he got a bunch of baseball players and people around the game to endorse it.  He got Bernie Williams and Joe Torre and Craig Biggio and Sean Casey and Jason Grilli.  The list isn't endless.  But it is long.  One name he got, oh, let's say in the last 27 years, to endorse the book is former New York Mets shortstop and manager, Bud Harrelson.

"But Jimmy," you whisper, your throat sore and nose still running, "what does this have to do with Shawn and Sue, who we just love so much they should have their own show?"

In full voice, I write this back to you: Bud and Bob were on Shawn and Sue's show.

"When?" you cry.

Recently.  Yes, I'm being coy, maybe a little flirtatious, but I think my point is nearly made.  Shawn & Sue, true radio pioneers in the digital age, spoke with Bud & Bob recently ON THE RADIO!!!  And guess what?  It was recorded.  And double-guess what?  I'm giving you the opportunity to hear this recording free of charge!  Yes, Jimmy is as giving as A Glove Of Their Own, maybe more so because I'm friends with Tony Danza and you're not! 

"Tony, Tony, Tony," you utter, truly jealous and unafraid to show it.

One day, my friends, you may be able to give as much as me.  One day, you will realize that giving is the "thing" that is "in" in this new decade.  And then you will come back to me and say, "Hey, I believe in you, Jaime!  And I bought A Glove Of Their Own and liked it and talked about it and will forever be grateful that Shawn & Sue were put on this earth to entertain me every morning and not talk about sex."

So, with that, I leave you.    Read this book.  Put it on your coffee table and admire it.  Bring it into the bathroom and re-read it.  Then air the book out at a picnic this summer.  Let its title be seen sticking out of your briefcase on the way to work.  Enjoy it and be better for it.

You know Jimmy loves you, don't you?  Thought so.  Now, it's your turn.  Listen to Bud & Bob & Shawn & Sue.  Because, if they were in your shoes, they'd be listening to you.