The Schack Attack

My Best/Worst Sports Rooting Moments

2009-11-05T20:11:00.005-05:00

The World Series victory by the New York Yankees was a wonderful reminder of why I'm a sports fan - and the absolute joy it can bring you. But - as we well know - it can also bring immense grief, and there's often more of that, since one's team is not likely to win a World Championship every year. So here's my list of my top three most joyous - and most upsetting - sports rooting events. I'd love to hear yours.

Best:

1-Rangers win the Stanley Cup (1994)

As a lifelong Ranger fan and longtime season ticket holder, I was lucky enough to be in attendance when the Rangers broke a 54-year empty spell and captured the Stanley Cup by beating Vancouver 3-2 in game 7. I'll never forget the ecstasy that filled the Garden when the buzzer sounded and the fireworks exploded - nor when Mark Messier lifted the Stanley Cup over his head. Still brings tears to my eyes when I see it.

2-Jets win Super Bowl III (1969)

I was the only kid in 7th grade who KNEW the Jets would win. After all, Joe Namath had guaranteed it. I watched in delight on our TV set as the Jets beat the Colts 16-7, and radio announcer Merle Harmon proclaimed "The Jets are champions of the football world!". Yes, I was one of those people who watched the TV with the sound down because I liked the radio play-by-play better. You can't do that now because they won't be in sync!

3-Knicks win game 7 of 1970 finals

The game when Willis Reed limped onto the court. I was SO nervous before the game I could barely watch. Then Willis hit his first two shots and the outcome was never in doubt. Marv Albert's call was thrilling. (Yes, I again was watching the TV with the sound down).

Honorable mention: any of the Yankees championships during my lifetime, especially 1977 (Reggie) and 1996 (ending the 18-year drought).

Worst:

1-Rangers lose 5th and deciding game to the Islanders (1984)

The blown opportunity of a lifetime. Rangers battled the 4-time Stanley Cup champ Islanders to a 5th game. They were behind with 30 seconds to go when Don Maloney tied the game to force overtime. (Yes, he did it with a high stick, but let's forget that ..) There was our chance to be the team that ended the Islanders reign as champs. It was RIGHT there. Ken Morrow ended that dream in OT, and when the puck went in, I screamed "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!". It hurts just to retell the story.

2-Jets lead Cleveland by 10 with two minutes to go in playoffs, but lose. (1986)

Mark Gastineau gets called for roughing the passer on 3rd and 25. I've hated him ever since. This one hurt. Badly. They would have gone to the championship game.

3-Yankees blow game 7 of the World Series to Arizona in 9th inning. (2001).

This one hurt the most because Mo Rivera - my favorite Yankee of all time - was on the mound. He broke three bats in the 9th inning, but lost primarily because of his own throwing error on what should have been a double play ball. Also because they won three thrilling games in New York and went back to Arizona leading 3-2.

Dishonorable mention: the 2004 ALCS. Hard to get over that one, but that agony was spread over several games.

Happy Anniversary, CNBC

2009-04-16T20:20:00.002-04:00

In a frightening reminder of how fast time passes by, CNBC is celebrating the 20th anniversary of its launch this week.

It was on a Monday - April 17, 1989 - that CNBC made its debut. I'd been hired in February as an associate producer, based mostly on an off-the-cuff remark I made to Peter Sturtevant, the VP of business news, during my interview.

He said, "So, what can you do for us?"

And I said, "I can get a lot of material on the air fast with no money, no time, no resources, and no people."

And he said, "you're hired!". True story.

20 years later, I can tell you I have no idea how we ever got on the air. We literally made the whole thing up out of thin air through a series of meetings, rehearsals, random suggestions, and many dinner-and-drinks sessions.

The fun part is that ANY idea you had was considered fair game. There was no "gee, we don't usually do it that way" because no one had done anything ANY way! I had a particularly good time during rehearsals because I was tapped to play the role of our guests - all of them. Someone would produce a segment on any topic, and I'd be the guest and literally make up the answers. I was pretty good at it, too. Thankfully, we were able to get real guests to come on once we launched.

It wasn't pretty at first. Truth is, we really didn't know what we wanted to be, but since they'd saddled us with the name Consumer News and Business Channel - we figured we'd try to make that fit. That explains why we would have a market segment followed by a demonstration of how to cook a chicken properly. People who've heard this story think it's an urban legend. I was there. It isn't. The chicken was very tasty, by the way.

I also remember that we somehow managed to forget some important details along the way. Like when - three days before our launch - someone said, "So, how do the right video tapes get to the playback area again?" The answer was .... "um ....... oh my gosh we need a tape desk!!". No one thought of it. One of our ace assignment editors, Judy Block, literally invented one on the spot - constructed of a stack of cardboard boxes and a chair. Improvisation was very much a key to our early days.

Somehow, we managed to get the ball rolling and slowly but surely, we created something that worked. And had a great deal of fun in the process. The 1991 acquisition of Financial News Network was a crucial turning point, giving us the cable penetration we needed and many talented new staffers as well.

As one of the lucky ones who was there then and now, I'm still in awe of how big it's become. I'm still astounded that Page Six cares enough to gossip about us. I still get a kick out of how much viewers are into what we do and the people who appear on our air. I even get a kick out of how passionately we get criticized, especially remembering back to the days when no one gave a hoot what we did - or even knew we existed.

No matter what you think of CNBC, I can tell you this: it's the best place I ever worked. Having left for 7 years and come back, I appreciate it more than I ever did. It's a wonderful, supportive group of people - both co-workers and bosses - and I hope I'm lucky enough to spend the rest of my career there.

Sasquatch Lives

2009-01-25T09:22:00.005-05:00

We like to think that when our time on earth is up, we'll be remembered for our good deeds and notable achievements.

I like to think that as well. But - as I recently discovered - a clear early contender in the "things people will remember most about Peter" contest is a coat.

It's not just any coat. It was a winter coat I bought at the Burlington Coat Factory in anticipation of another cold Ithaca winter at Cornell. It had, as you can see above, a rather distinctive look.

In my defense ... ah, forget it. There is no defense. I just liked the coat. It kept me warm. And I acquired a new nickname in the process - at least when I wore the coat: Sasquatch.

I loved that coat. It was warm. It had lots of pockets. And it amused untold dozens of my Cornell classmates.

Eventually, the coat wore out and was discarded. (There's no truth to the rumor that it got up and left one night to return to its former home deep in the woods ...) I forgot about it and went on to more traditional forms of winter wear that weren't quite as distinctive but certainly invited less abuse.

Recently, I was digging up old pictures to scan for Facebook and came across one of me wearing Sasquatch. I figured if any picture was a "must-post", that was it. So I did.

Not 20 seconds had gone by since I'd clicked "save" when I got an IM from a college friend: "OMG!!!! The coat!!!".

A few dozen comments later, it came to me. My defining moment had been in the books for 30 years, and I'd never realized it. Even my current group of friends and co-workers took the opportunity to comment on Sasquatch. I enjoyed all the comments - even the semi-abusive ones (all in good fun, of course).

I hope, of course, to have a few more memorable accomplishments. But for now, it appears that having owned Sasquatch is at or near the top of the list. You know, I just noticed my current winter coat has a few rips in it ...

The Sheep Toss And Other Fun Facebook Activities

2009-01-18T18:49:00.005-05:00

Let me admit something right up front: I love Facebook.

I love that it puts me in touch with old friends. I love that it lets me know what my current group of friends is doing. Even if some insist on updating their status about 20 times a day. I find that more amusing than annoying. "Joe Smith is leaving the house. Joe Smith has left the house. Joe Smith has arrived at work. Joe Smith is going to the gym." Me, I probably only update my status about 4-5 times a week. I'm either not that creative, or just not that exciting.

But I have to admit, I've yet to fathom why Facebook asks me to do certain things.

The other day, it suggested that I might want to "throw a sheep at" my wife. We've been married for almost 10 years and have discovered many and varied ways to have fun together. Amazingly enough, the idea of "sheep throwing" has never come up. Not once. Although perhaps I should have "thrown a sheep" at her, since she "twittered" me. I'm still not sure what that means, but apparently it's something good.

It was also suggested to me that I might want to throw a "flaming Tabasco snowball" at a friend. So I did. Hey, the friend threw some sort of ersatz snowball at me first, so it was only fair that I respond in kind.

Today alone, I've been challenged to take a movie quiz, invited to be a "poker buddy", given and received good karma, and been the recipient of a matzah ball.

I'm not really sure how I got involved in all these activities, and I'm not really sure what I actually did, if anything.

But so far, whatever I did do, did not involve a sheep.

Which is usually a good thing.

Financial Markets & Sour Stomachs

2008-09-27T10:57:00.003-04:00

"My stomach hurts!"

That memorable quote - one that's stuck with me for the past 21 years - occurred on October 19, 1987, in the midst of the now-infamous crash of '87. It came from my fellow producer/reporter at CBS Radio, Maureen Clark, who crystallized what all of us were feeling as we watched the Dow lose 22% of its value in a single day.

We worked for a daily half-hour show called "Business Update", and it was the first time I experienced that now familiar pit-of-the-stomach feeling about a story I was also trying to cover. I had a Quotron on my desk that displayed the major market averages, plus all the stocks I owned, on one screen. All during the bull market that preceded the crash, I happily watched while most of those investments went nowhere but up.

However, this day, the screen was red. Very red. I was watching my net worth disappear while trying to interview people and write and voice stories for that day's show. It was a struggle, but we got through it, and put on an excellent show on a day when suddenly, EVERYONE cared about business and financial news.

I've thought about that day quite a bit these past few weeks, as we face what's arguably the most severe financial crisis in decades. Everyone at CNBC - both on air and off - felt an enormous weight of responsibility. This was no longer a business and financial story. It was THE story. And - it's fair to say that - although I didn't poll each and every one of my CNBC co-workers - we all had that pit-of-the-stomach feeling to some degree. In my not-so-impartial opinion, that makes the kickass job we did even more impressive.

CNBC employees can't invest in individual stocks (except for parent company GE), but I can guarantee you that we were all feeling that sick feeling while watching the value of our 401Ks and various mutual fund investments sink.

Being an eternal optimist (one of my co-workers once called me a financial "Pollyanna", a description I gladly accept), I believe many will look back at this period and say "why didn't I buy XYZ then?" Arguments over the details of the bailout aside, we WILL get through this. It may take a very long time, but we will.

Until then, however, my stomach still hurts.

Hail and Farewell, Yankee Stadium

2008-09-22T19:30:00.003-04:00

Yes, a blog bidding farewell to Yankee Stadium will not win the "Most Original Idea For A Blog" sweepstakes this week. But since my last blog before this detailed my memorable last trip ever to Shea Stadium, there's kind of a nice synergy here.

My wife, Peri, and I were lucky enough to be invited to the last game ever at Yankee Stadium last night. (Thanks to my friend of 34 years, Keith Olbermann, for inviting us. You're a good man, KO!). It was a happy and uplifting experience, and - to my surprise - not the least bit sad.

That's because it really is all about the moments and memories. Yankee Stadium is beautiful when you're already sitting in your seat, staring out at the lush green field. If you're on your way TO the Stadium, or in its halls, walkways, and concession areas, not so much. To call it a "pit" wouldn't be inaccurate.

Also, it's been well documented elsewhere that THIS is not the Yankee Stadium of Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle, most recently by Tom Verducci in Sports Illustrated.

My most memorable moments occurred in the now long-dead Yankee Stadium, the one with the poles obstructing the views from the reserved seats, the one with the original steel facade lining the top of the upper deck. That's where I saw my first Yankee game in May of 1967 with my grandfather. And that's where I had MY most memorable in-person moment.

It was Memorial Day, 1968. The once-great Mickey Mantle was in his final year as a Yankee, a shadow of his former self, but still a favorite of the fans and one very enthusiastic 12-year old fan - me.

The Yankees played the Washington Senators in a doubleheader (remember those?) and for one day, Mickey was 25 again. In game one, he went 5-for-5 with two tremendous home runs into the upper deck in right field. I'd never heard a crowd roar that loud in my life. The Yankees won that game 13-4, and although they lost the second game, that's still the game that stands out in my mind as a personal favorite.

I'm told by people in the know (OK, it was KO)that when people walk into the new Yankee Stadium, they'll rediscover the OLD Yankee Stadium. KO says while the Mets went for "functional" with Citifield, the Yankees went for "iconic", and nailed it. I'll be looking forward to returning to the Yankee Stadium of my youth next season. With much cleaner bathrooms!

My Brush With Beatle Greatness

2008-07-19T12:47:00.002-04:00

With six words, Billy Joel gave about 60,000 Shea Stadium fans the thrill of a lifetime last night: "Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Paul McCartney!"

Not since Mookie's grounder went through Buckner's legs has Shea Stadium been as loud or shook as hard as it did last night.

It was Billy Joel's "Last Play At Shea" - the second of two concerts designed to give Shea, which is closing at year's end, its musical sendoff.

We knew there would be "special musical guests" - the names had been leaked, so everyone knew that Tony Bennett, Garth Brooks, Steven Tyler, and Roger Daltrey would all come on for one song at some point. They did, and they were terrific.

But when Billy came back for an encore - and everyone was expecting to hear the opening notes to "Piano Man" - he threw one of the best curveballs in the history of Shea Stadium: "Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Paul McCartney!".

When they began to play "I Saw Her Standing There", I nearly wept. Yes, I know, if you're not of a certain age, that reaction seems ridiculous. I am. And it's not. And when he came out again and played "Let It Be" - there were some dry eyes in the house, but I didn't see them.

I watched the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. I bought every album. My sister was a member of their fan club. In short: I did (and do) love the Beatles. Obviously, I'm a little late on the idea of ever seeing them live. But I came damn close last night!

So thanks to Billy Joel - a terrific musician and performer who gladly upstaged himself to bring Sir Paul on. And give Beatle fans like me the thrill of a lifetime.

Caught Up In The Gadgetry

2008-07-12T09:48:00.008-04:00

The gadgeteers finally got me.

As much as I like and admire the wonders of modern electronics, I'm not what you'd call an early adopter. I'm the type of person who hears about something neat and useful, then waits for all the early bugs to be worked out. Then, if I determine it's something I might want, I go out and buy the second version. Or third. Or fourth. Or maybe never.

This especially applies to mobile phones. iPhones? Don't have one. Don't want one. Nothing against Apple or others, but I have a standard line that I use when someone shows me their spiffy new smart phone. I take my phone, point to it, and say "you know what this one can do?" My audience waits in breathless anticipation of the answer, and then I finally say, after sufficient pause .. "It makes phone calls!!".

This attempt at comedy gets varied reactions, but I really have only used my phone for one purpose: to make calls.

Until this week.

Our family is on Verizon's "New Every Two" plan, whose main feature is that two of the words in the title rhyme, but also lets you have a new phone for free (or a discount) after two years. (Actually, they just changed it to 20 months, but that didn't rhyme, so they kept "new every two" as the slogan ..)

My wife and I both picked out very nice new (free) phones that work just fine. And so, I thought I was ready for another two years (or 20 months) of saying "Hey look! This phone makes calls!"

But then, I discovered a new mind-boggling feature: if a song is playing in the nearby vicinity and you press a certain button, the phone listens to the song and then tells you what song it is! Then, of course, it offers you the opportunity to buy the song and/or a matching ringtone. But you don't have to do that - the song ID feature is free.

They got me. I'm totally obsessed with this.

I've been identifying songs off my computer, off loudspeakers, off car radios, off anywhere that has a song since I got it. I don't know why this has hooked me, other than that I like music, and I love marketing ideas that are so damn clever you don't even mind that the purveyor is trying to sell you something.

So, the last few days, in the midst of the hoopla over the new iPhone, I've been taking my Motorola out and waving it around as usual. But no longer am I touting the virtues of a phone that makes phone calls. Now it's all about identifying songs!

Oh yeah, it DOES make calls. I think. I haven't made one yet. I've been too busy seeing if my phone really can tell "I Wanna Be Sedated" from "Chances Are".

The Terrifying Torah

2008-06-17T21:12:00.003-04:00

There's a venerable old saying that tells us to face our fears as a way of getting over them.

I've been doing just that - or trying to - by doing something that, in the Jewish religion, is considered a mitzvah, or good deed: reading the Torah during religious services.

I'm not talking about picking up the prayer book and reading a few passages, or watching Mel Brooks carry the Ten Commandments down the mountain during the hilarious "History of the World Part I".

I'm talking about walking up in front of EVERYONE, standing in front of the scroll, and reading - and singing - an entire portion or two. I've done it a few times a year for the past several years, and I still quake in my boots whenever I do.

Imagine standing in front of a crowd reading a book out loud. Not so bad, right? Now imagine that you have to sing the book. A little more difficult. Now imagine that someone took all the vowels out of the words. How's that book looking now? How about, just for fun, we remove all the punctuation and paragraph marks? Did I mention that the letters are all in Hebrew? THAT's what reading Torah is!

If you haven't ever seen a Torah scroll up close, that's pretty much what it looks like. Torahs are written in Hebrew letters with no punctuation or vowels, and worse, many different letters or sounds can look exactly the same in that format. Sheer terror!

And I keep doing it. Willingly! Why? Because relatively few people can, or are willing to try. Because they invented some really neat software to help you learn the various passages. Because it makes you feel terrific when you get up there and do a great job at it. Because it's fun to do something you might have HAD to do as a kid, merely because you WANT to do it. Because it makes you feel part of a service, rather than just an observer. And because my wife does it as well, and when we go up and read consecutive portions, people are really impressed with us. And who wouldn't like that?

Vote With Your Wallet

2008-03-25T20:15:00.005-04:00

Let's hear it for good customer service!

OK, maybe that first line didn't grab you as a radical new concept. But I'm on a kick to reward companies that don't outsource their help desks to who-knows-where and have people who sound like they actually want to help you.

So, in that vein - let's hear it for newegg.com.

First - a disclaimer. I don't work for newegg. I don't know anyone who works there. I'm not getting a discount on my next order for writing this. I wouldn't even bother with a disclaimer, but a few years ago, someone in an online running forum asked about good GPS watches for running and I said I liked my Timex. Someone immediately posted that I obviously work for Timex. I didn't and don't.

If you don't order computer equipment or other technology products online, you may not have ever heard of newegg. But here's why I like this site: THEY GET IT!!

What do they get? The value of customer service. A simple concept, perhaps, but lost on many, many companies. If you have a problem, they fix it. Quickly and cheerfully. Not to mention creatively.

Here's an example: I placed an order for a few pairs of music player headphones and thought it would be a great opportunity to use a $25 gift card that I'd gotten.

The order came to $25.06. The order page took the gift card, but didn't give me the chance to enter another card to make up the difference. The order, of course, was rejected for insufficient funds on the card.

I activated the site's online chat help and was connected immediately to an agent. I told her the problem and she said - hmmm, how about I just take six cents off the order price and put it through again? That should work. It did work.

Understand that I'm not exulting about saving six cents. It's that she didn't give me the robo-answer of going back to the site, finding the product number, resubmitting the order, and jumping through a hoop of fire to use that gift card. I immediately got nice warm fuzzy feelings about newegg.com and will most certainly shop there again.

Maybe if we all decide to only patronize companies that consider your time and business valuable - we'll wipe out the companies that don't. Or get them to change. Vote with your wallet!

Get Over It, Dude!

2008-03-13T20:18:00.012-04:00

"Let it go" is a sound piece of advice, often given to people who are trying to get past some frustrating situation and move forward.

Except sometimes, you just can't.

I know I can't. As noted in my prior blog, it's been two years since I departed Bloomberg Radio to return to CNBC. And the circumstances that led me to leave rankle me just as much today as they did the day I left.

Bloomberg LP in general is, shall we say, a quirky place. The eccentricities of the company, and the people who run it, have been well documented elsewhere. All I know is, despite that, while I was there, I wound up in THE perfect job for me, the one I'd always wanted. From 2001-2005, I anchored mornings with my good friends Connell McShane, now of Fox Business Network, and Ben Farnsworth, a New York legend on both radio and TV.

Since I was 8, I wanted to be on the radio. I was unwavering in this career goal. I decided early on to specialize in business because I liked the subject, and found to my delight that it was an advantage in an era when very few broadcasters specialized in that subject.

Despite Bloomberg's quirks, and an unorthodox approach to programming radio and television, I loved my job. I was good at it. Despite the frustrations surrounding those quirks, I would have been happy to keep doing it forever.

Except one day, they took it away.

Someone in power decided they didn't like my voice (they unfathomably decided this about Ben as well) and removed us from the show. From there, things quickly deteriorated to where by March 2006, I was vastly underemployed. I wrote, did brief reports, produced, helped others, but it just wasn't the same.

Thankfully, the wonderful people at CNBC were there to rescue me. I'd left there on excellent terms (see my blog about karma!) and had always kept in touch. I was offered the job as breaking news producer and gladly accepted. And now that I've been back there for two years, it seems like the home it's always been. In terms of the overall culture and the people, it was and still is the best place I've ever worked.

But I still can't get over the Bloomberg thing.

A good friend of mine told me "Dude" (yes, he actually used the word "dude") .. "don't let people live rent-free in your head."

He's right. I guess. But it feels as bad today as the day it happened.

Those who are on the air in radio and TV will always be subject to the whims of those who manage them. You have to accept that. It comes with the territory.

I'm lucky. I have a great job at a great place and - the frustrations of not doing much radio aside - consider myself to be quite fortunate.

But I don't know that I'll ever be totally at peace with this. I tell people that TV producer is what I do, but radio anchor is what I am. And I'll always believe that.

Various Anniversaries

2008-03-06T19:21:00.004-05:00

This blogging thing is supposed to be, above all else, fun. And it is. Except when it starts to feel like an assignment with a deadline.

I was reminded of this a few days ago when my good friend and fellow blogger Wes Richards (http://wessays.blogspot.com) pointed out to me in an e-mail that as of today, it had been one month since my last blog post.

Wes is a prolific writer and blogger, and I've always been impressed that he's been able to keep up the quality as well as the quantity.

I've written broadcast news stories my entire adult life. I enjoy doing so. I rarely if ever have trouble coming up with them, and, I'm proud to say, they mostly match the high quality standards I set for myself.

As I point out in the "about me" section of this blog, I've rarely gotten the chance to just write for fun. And this blog IS great fun. When a thought strikes me and inspires me, the words just come. Since I'm not writing this blog for any boss and there's no money involved, I write when I feel like it and when I don't, I don't.

Except I'm starting to feel guilty about it.

I look at some of the blogs I've written, and I'm really proud of them. But I also remember the few days when I hadn't written in a while, and decided that I really should. Except that I had nothing of interest to say, and sat there starting at a blank screen. Blogger's block!

So, this one really is to explain myself, thank all my blog-readers (and you know who you are!), and to tell you that - while I hope that another month does NOT go by between posts - I'll only post when one of those inspiring thoughts strike me. After all, if I don't enjoy writing what I write, you won't enjoy reading it.

And since we're on the subject of anniversaries, it was exactly two years ago today that I told the folks at Bloomberg Radio I no longer wished to work for them. That was one of the most triumphant yet sad days of my life, and the subject for another day. And you won't have to wait a month for it!

Remembering Rick Nelson

2008-02-06T20:03:00.000-05:00

People of a certain age (like those of us born in the 1950s) have fond memories of the Golden Age of Family Television. More specifically, the Golden Age of Television Families. The Andersons of "Father Knows Best". The Cleavers of "Leave It To Beaver". The Williamses of "Make Room For Daddy". And - the best of all - the Nelsons of "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet".

I was reminded of this on a vacation last week in the most incongruous of settings - a cruise ship. On board Royal Caribbean's Explorer of the Seas, one of the channels - for reasons I still haven't been able to fathom - showed nearly continuous episodes of "Ozzie and Harriet".

I'd completely forgotten how much I loved this show as a kid. Sure, the others were good - but I was fascinated by the idea that this was a real family, using their real names. Ozzie and Harriet were really married. And their names really WERE Ozzie and Harriet. Ricky and Dave were real brothers. Real life events like their marriages were incorporated into the show. It was reality television before anyone ever dreamed up that label.

Ricky was my favorite Nelson. As the youngest in MY family, I naturally related to him in that role. And damn, the boy had musical talent. Even after he grew older and became just plain "Rick", I always thought he was one cool cat.

Here's another reason Rick was cool: In 1977, he hosted a Saturday Night Live episode and appeared in a hilariously funny Twilight Zone-themed skit in which he played his former sitcom self trying to walk into his home - but kept finding himself in the houses of other 50s and 60s sitcom families. This was during an era in which he'd been trying to shed at least part of the "Ricky" period of his life, but was hip enough to know that this would make people laugh.

And I remember how badly I felt when I heard he'd died in a plane crash on New Year's Eve in 1985. One of my ABC Radio co-workers at the time, the late newscaster Tim O'Donnell, summed it up for many of us when he walked by my desk and said, "I know this will almost sound silly, but I feel really terrible about Ricky Nelson".

Over the years, I'd pretty much forgotten about all this, but the re-runs reminded me of how much fun that show - and that era of television - was. On another channel - not coincidentally - was a continuously running feature on Rick's twin sons, Matthew and Gunnar, who have played together for years and now incorporate many of their dad's songs into their act. In it, they describe how they started to miss him a whole lot less when they played his songs. It brought a tear to my eye. It really did.

Tomorrow, I'm taking out my "Best of Rick Nelson" CD and listening to it in the car on the way to work. TV and music were a huge part of my childhood, and adulthood as well. Rick played a big part. And he deserves a very belated thank you.

Let's Hear It For The Unsung Heroes

2008-01-21T09:31:00.000-05:00

Do you have people in your office who do a great deal of valuable work and get very little credit for it? And I don't necessarily mean that they're unappreciated by their bosses and co-workers, although that can happen.

The thought first crystallized for me during a vacation last year. My wife and I go on a cruise each January, and when people hear that I work at CNBC, they often have comments or questions about the anchors or the programming. We met a lovely couple whom I'll call Bob and Gail, since those are, in fact, their names. One of Bob's first comments was that "whoever plays those sound effects during Squawk Box is great!".

If you watch Squawk Box on CNBC, you know what Bob meant. From flushing toilets to game show buzzers to clips from "Seinfeld" - if it's appropriate to the situation, it appears instantly, as if out of nowhere.

This doesn't happen by magic. We have an amazing audio technician named John who, as someone on the show commented, "must have 14 hands". He sits in a room by himself, just off the control room, and does a very difficult job very well for three consecutive hours. And no one in the viewing audience knows about him.

Well, at least one does. I told Bob all about John, and e-mailed John a note to tell him he had a big fan. And when I got back to work the following week, John sought me out to tell me how much he appreciated hearing that.

I suppose this situation is more pronounced in the TV business, because - after all - you only see the people who are on the air. What they do isn't easy by any means. But it also takes a lot of heavy lifting behind the scenes to make it work.

Squawk Box is a good and unique show largely because of its terrific anchors, Becky Quick, Joe Kernen, and Carl Quintanilla.

But many of the memorable moments come right from people like John, who are as creative and important in their own way as the people you actually get to see.

Let's hear it for the unsung heroes!

Breaking News: I Have The Internet, Too

2008-01-13T10:07:00.000-05:00

I spend my workday at CNBC searching for (and dealing with) breaking news. We've even titled the desk where I sit the "Breaking News Desk", so you know we take it quite seriously. Bottom line: I know breaking news when I see it.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Apparently, there's a story I missed: only a few select people have access to the internet. They're the only ones who see all those wonderfully funny jokes that circulate around the world. They're the only ones who have seen those hilarious videos of cats driving cars, science experiments gone horribly awry, and of buses crashing through windows. And they get first crack at those wonderful e-mails which, if you forward to enough people, will bring peace, harmony, and a few million dollars to the recipients.

OK, I'm being sarcastic here.

We all know people who take everything they find remotely interesting on the internet and forward it to EVERYONE they know. And not just occasionally. They also love the mathematical marvel that we all know as the internet chain letter, usually topped with a plea to "send to everyone you know!".

To these people I have but one question: "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?????"

I get enough spam in my e-mail box. I don't want yours.

If you send me a chain letter, I will take one and only one action: hit the delete key. I really don't need the practice as I'm pretty good with that key, but if you insist on making me hit it, I will. If you say "please don't break the chain!", I'll think "then you shouldn't have sent this to me!".

If I receive any e-mail with more than one "FWD:" in the subject line, chances are it's going in the trash, unread.

If I get an e-mail with a few hundred recipients that's NOT an invitation to a party, it's going "poof"!

If you send me an e-mail that says "hilarious viewing", I guess you'll have to remain among the exclusive club of internet reviewers. I'm not viewing. I'm deleting.

I'm a very easygoing guy. Just ask anyone that knows me. But this kind of behavior makes my blood boil. I can't even imagine why anyone would think that they're the official internet monitors and that everyone they know needs to see everything THEY think is slightly interesting.

I'm not saying I've never enjoyed jokes or videos that are available on the internet. But I'll find them and enjoy them on my own time, in my own way.

So, if you want to e-mail me to say hi, no problem. If you want to forward me something you discovered in your exclusive tour of the internet, please think twice!

Not-So-Instant Karma

2008-01-10T20:27:00.000-05:00

I'm a pretty lucky guy.

I have a great wife and family, a good job in a fun industry, and enough friends to keep me happy.

Why?

Karma.

Yes, I'm serious. At least in part.

I'm not particularly mystical, or spiritual. I've never meditated. The only time I went to a mountaintop seeking anything was on a hike during a trip to Vermont, and all I was seeking was some exercise and a nice lunch.

But I spent quite a bit of time this past week thinking about karma, as I hosted several college students at CNBC who were interested in spending a day and exploring possible careers in the media. They loved it. And so did I.

Why did I do this bit of good?

When I graduated from college in 1978, I wanted nothing more than a career in radio. In pursuit of that goal, I called a few dozen alumni of our radio station for Cornell students, WVBR-FM.

To a person, every single one took the time to talk to me and offer encouragement and advice. Several invited me to their workplaces. A few let me stay in their homes. It was an amazing feeling. I've never forgotten.

Over the years, I've had the chance to repay the favor. One of my former communications professors at Cornell brings a class of graduating seniors to New York City every year for a tour of various media outlets, and during my years at Bloomberg, I hosted a day for them.

This year, WVBR-FM reached out to alumni like myself for externship opportunities. I was thrilled when several of them expressed eagerness to follow me through my day at CNBC.

And you know what? Helping these students felt just as good - perhaps even better - than when I was helped as a graduating senior way back when. And it's fun to see your job through fresh, excited eyes.

Over the last 30 years, whenever anyone has asked for help in finding a job, I've helped. Success felt great even when I wasn't the job seeker.

This concept isn't just limited to the workplace.

When people ask if I can come over and fix their computers, I do it. I was a practicing tax preparer for years, and still do returns for my entire family. Whenever anyone asks for tax help, I give it.

My reward?

All the great things in life that I mention above. Do good, and good shall find you. It's happened too many times to be a coincidence.

A good friend who's now a high executive at a major media outfit was kind enough to serve as an advisor when I was negotiating the terms of my current job. When I wanted to send him a gift of some sort, he uttered these words to live by. "No need. Pay it forward."

I have. As often as I can.

Scorched Earth Tech Support, May I Help You?

2008-01-05T09:09:00.000-05:00

I'm known among friends, family, and co-workers as somewhat of an amateur computer expert. I'd venture to say that I get way more "please help me fix this!" requests than your average non-professional.

I've developed this interest not only because I enjoy it and have a natural affinity for it, but also because in today's high-tech world, it helps me (and helps me help others) avoid a great deal of grief caused by those who DO get paid to do it for a living.

(Note to my brother-in-law and professional computer tech Mike - I didn't mean you!)

Here's an example: a friend's son came home from college during break with the sad tale that his laptop could no longer connect to the internet. His school - being a modern, up-to-date university, provides campus wide Wi-Fi connections, along with a guarantee that you'll be able to connect to the internet anywhere on campus. If you can't, they'll send a tech out to troubleshoot the issue.

According to my friend's son (who is not prone to exaggeration), the tech guy came out, took a quick look, and told him to wipe out his entire hard drive and reinstall Windows.

Now, I'm not saying that wouldn't work. I also know that if my living room develops a loose floorboard, and I bulldoze the house and rebuild it, that will solve the problem. I'm just saying that maybe, just maybe, there's an easier solution!

I'm proud to say I DID solve his problem without wiping out his hard drive - by replacing a corrupt Windows system file. Now, if I knew how to do this, why didn't the professional?

I called this the "scorched earth" approach to tech support. It may destroy everything in its path, but it will certainly solve the problem.

While not all examples are this extreme, I've found this type of thinking rampant when I've needed to call on tech support for various consumer and electronics products I own.

The folks at one software company were sure that my computer was the problem when the installation of their product cut off my internet access. It wasn't, but I had to troubleshoot and solve the problem on my own.

I've had to call the support people on two different occasions to solve a problem with my GPS unit. The only useful suggestion was: return the unit and get a new one.

And .. then of course, there's "did you try rebooting?"

I'm not totally unsympathetic to the poor folks on the other end of the phone who have to deal with the masses. (Especially since they're often in another country and don't speak English all that well, but that's a subject for another time.) Tech support is a huge expense for those who need to provide it, and finding qualified people is difficult. But one-size-fits-all solutions don't do it for me. I suspect they don't do it for anyone else, either.

More Random Admissions (That Don't Involve The Carpenters)

2008-01-01T17:05:00.000-05:00

My last post about "shameful admissions" garnered quite a bit of reaction, mostly along the lines of "You like the Carpenters??". And, of course, my wife's response of "you told them what??"

Nonetheless, this sort of reaction is inspiring. OK, I admit that the "inspiring" and "it's been three weeks since my last blog post" don't exactly go together, but it's a new year and I'm trying harder.

The fact is, I do quite a few odd, quirky things. I'm betting that a few of you do, too, so see if you recognize any of your own behaviors here. What will this prove? That either I'm a lot like many of you or that I'm a total oddball who really should have been placed on a different planet.

1)I can't bring myself to click the "update" button in my Quicken software if the financial markets have had a bad day. I wait until the next positive day.

2)There are certain movies that I HAVE to stop and watch, even if for just a little bit, if I come across them on cable. Oh, sure, there are a few classics like "The Godfather" (either the original or Part II) but there are a few absolute headscratchers in this category. They include Young Guns II (for some reason, Emilio Estevez as Billy the Kid is highly entertaining to me), Scream (I like to think it's just Neve Campbell's presence), Diner (the idea that a marriage proposal hinges on a sports trivia quiz is absolutely fantastic), Fast Times at Ridgemont High (Sean Penn's best performance EVER), and Major League (the sight of Wesley Snipes sliding into second and coming up 10 feet short shouldn't crack me up EVERY time, but it does.)

3)If I come across a song that I haven't heard in years, I'll immediately download it and listen to it repeatedly. When I say repeatedly, I mean what I say. Like about 700 times in a row. (note to all you lawyers out there: I subscribe to the Rhaspody service so all my downloads are LEGAL!).

4)If my favorite sports team is winning a game, I have a LOT of trouble watching the end. Perhaps I just can't take the pressure. This doesn't apply if I'm actually at the game, but I've been known to skip the 6th and 7th innings of a Yankee game and tune back in for the 8th. When I'm at Ranger games and the opposing team is swarming around our net, I have this theory that if I look away, they can't possibly score. I've missed many opponent's goals in the last 25 years as a result. Exception to the rule: if it's post-season, I watch everything and just suffer.

Odd corollary: I totally reject the idea that what I say has any influence over what happens in the game. For instance, if I say the team is playing well and they suddenly stop playing well, I refuse to take the blame. My oddball friends, however .. well, that's another story.

5)I'm completely incapable of calling in sick to work. I like to say it's my fantastic work ethic but the fact is, I probably just have a guilty conscience. I don't know why, since - other than a one week bout with the flu in 1994, I've taken exactly three sick days since starting my first stint at CNBC in 1989. This has allowed me to go into work sick and get everyone else ill. Hey, why should I be the only one suffering?

So, I must end by asking this question.

Is it just me?

Shameful Admissions (Why Rainy Days And Mondays Don't Get Me Down)

2007-12-12T19:18:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure if it's a benefit of aging, or being married, or both, but at age 51 (and in year 9 of marriage), I'm finding I no longer have a problem admitting that I like things that simply aren't (or weren't) cool to like.

My wife, Peri (who's much better at being cool than I ever was), summed up this philosophy in what's now become a classic response, at least in our house, to various uncool or unattractive admissions: "That's OK. You already have a wife!"

I had an epiphany about this several years back while listening to the 60s channel on my XM Radio. A Carpenters song came on and I found myself singing it at the top of my lungs, and it suddenly hit me. "Holy S**T. I LIKE the Carpenters. I LOVE the Carpenters!". "Haaangin' around .... nothin' to do but frown ... "

Understand that I grew up in the golden age of rock 'n roll, when it was very cool to like the Beatles, Doors, Led Zeppelin, Kinks, and any number of happening rock bands. And I did (and do) like them (you haven't lived until you've heard me sing "When The Music's Over" at top volume in the car.)

But having watched American Bandstand starting at age one (you can verify this with my 82-year old Mom in Florida) and grown up listening to classic radio stations like WABC and WMCA, I like all sorts of hit music, from Buddy Holly to Neil Sedaka to - yes - the Carpenters and Barry Manilow. Yes, Barry, too. (I made this admission in the Squawk Box control room at CNBC recently, and our director looked at me and said, "Please stop. You're scaring us.")

When I got to the college radio station in 1974, it was the height of the progressive rock era, and if a band wasn't played on WNEW-FM, you couldn't possibly admit you liked it. I took grief for liking Creedence Clearwater Revival, for goodness sakes, so even admitting to myself that I liked the Carpenters was unthinkable. Barry, too. Over time, I convinced myself that I only liked "cool" bands, and bought into my own self-deception with a vengeance.

Except once in a while, my true nature would come out. During an all-night show on our station, I actually played Bread's "Everything I Own". It's a good song. It's a GREAT song. But it didn't belong on progressive rock radio in the 70s, and in reviewing my playlist for the evening, the program director wrote one word next to that song. "No."

But my Carpenters epiphany was one of the most liberating experiences of my recent adult life.

Within short order, I realized I didn't care what ANYONE thought of my tastes in music, movies ("Diner" is one of my favorites), TV Shows (reality junkies, you have a friend in me), clothing - or pretty much anything. In short, I decided it was cool to be uncool.

But that's OK. Because I already have a wife. And she likes Barry and the Carpenters, too!

Money Isn't Everything, Even Though I Want More

2007-12-08T14:38:00.000-05:00

I think about money often. Maybe too often.

Of course, part of that is built into my life as a producer of financial and business news. I also moonlighted as a professional tax preparer for many years and still take responsibility for my family's finances and tax returns. I'm an unwaveringly consistent investor and saver, as well as a Quicken fanatic who enjoys poring over its reports as if they were ancient tablets of wisdom. You could say I'm incurable. Or, as many of my family members like to say to me for no particular reason, "Go make a spreadsheet".

I also fantasize about what it would be like to have a lot more, especially when I drive by the New York Lotto billboard on the Cross Bronx Expressway each morning, which has the latest prize amount for the twice-weekly Mega Millions drawing prominently displayed.

But what I'm talking about here is not so much about wanting and having money as much as it is about how it can make people behave.

So I offer some guidelines that most definitely work for me, and might work for you, too. Or not.

1. If you're out to dinner with a group of friends, split the check evenly and just forget about it.

Hey, wasn't the point just to enjoy the company of other people and some good food? Who cares if your entree cost $2 less than someone else's? This is NOT worth making a fuss over, and next time, YOU can order the lobster thermidor and no one will blink. The next time you and 9 other people are looking over a check and trying to figure out who had what, feel free to tell everyone what some random blogger thinks!

2. Pick up the check once in a while.

Yes, I know I what I said in rule#1. Some people can't get past the idea of spending the extra money, but consider this: in two weeks, you won't miss or even remember what you spend showing your friends a good time, but the goodwill you generate will last a lifetime. And when you give, you get back. That's the fun part of being generous. You get it back in spades.

3. If you're buying something that you want and will use often, get the best or most suitable one, not the cheapest.

That doesn't mean you should seek out the highest price tag, but if you, for example, love barbecuing in the backyard, go ahead and get that Weber Genesis Gold and forego the Cheapo 200 which probably won't last as long nor be as good.

Or let's say you've decided to buy a flat panel TV, and there's some feature that you absolutely love and want, except that it'll cost $100 more. Trust me. Spend the $100. Again, in two weeks you won't miss the $100, but I can promise that the absence of that feature will bug you for a lifetime. Well, at least the TV's lifetime.

4. If you bought something and the price goes down later, don't agonize.

This happens most often, but not only, with electronics. You buy something and a year later you find the cost has dropped by 50%.

So what? You've had the enjoyment for a year, and most likely, it was 50% MORE for those who bought the year before you. So forget about it. Or go buy a second one and rejoice at what a great deal you got.

5. Don't drive all over the known universe trying to save a dollar.

I'm not just talking about gasoline prices here. I often experience shopping fatigue - where I've been to enough places to have a general idea of what something costs, and am ready to be done with the process. I place a very high value on my time, as you probably do. Buy what you need or want to buy, and go home.

Yes, I know many people are on budgets and have to watch their money closely, and believe me, I appreciate that. But trust me - these behaviors will make your life better and you know what? You'll wind up on the plus side of the ledger, in many ways that money can't measure.

The Case For Handbag Coyotes

2007-12-05T18:08:00.000-05:00

I'm generally a good-natured person who isn't bothered by all that much. And I don't want this blog to be a litany of complaints about life, because who wants to hear someone complain all the time? Unless the complainer is Andy Rooney, I don't, and most likely, neither do you.

On the other hand, there's something quite satisfying about zeroing in on a pet peeve that people will read and say "Yeah! That happens to me all the time, and I hate it!".

OK, here's today's life lesson: When you get to the cash register, you need to pay.

Yes, I can hear you saying, "What is this crap? I'm off to another blog!" But wait ..

I don't much like waiting in line, but I can handle it if all parties involved are doing their best to move things along. What drives me absolutely berserk, however, is when someone gets to the register, is told how much their purchase is, and THEN AND ONLY THEN do they make the first slow, leisurely move towards getting their money or their credit cards out. If I didn't know better, I'd think the fact that they have to pay is a complete and total surprise.

What, you ask, has this to do with handbag coyotes?

This stems from an absolutely brilliant Dilbert comic strip I saw years ago. I'm working strictly from memory here, but Dilbert is on line at the grocery store in a similar situation. The woman in front of him takes out her handbag, and starts digging through and taking a few dozen things out, and then finally finds what she's looking for: a third party check from the bank of Yemen that she'd like to use to pay for her purchase. She reaches back into her bag and is pulled inside it by what appears to be the arm of a ferocious animal and completely disappears. The checkout clerk nods knowingly and says "Hmmm. Handbag coyotes."

I don't REALLY wish anyone the fate of being devoured by a handbag coyote, but for a fictional conclusion, it was quite satisfying.

At CNBC, our cafeteria has a wonderful system called FreedomPay. You take out this little swipey keychain thing with a bar code, swipe it, and you're done. The money comes out of your checking account or a credit card. Maddeningly enough, not everyone uses it. The people who don't use it, for some inexplicable reason, are always the ones in front of me in the cafeteria line.

Listen, I know you can't help it if the checkout person stares at the register as if it were a complex air traffic control system, but please, do your part. Have your money ready. Pay. And get out of the way!

Wacky Friends, Or How I Learned To Love Casey Kasem

2007-12-03T13:21:00.000-05:00

"Let's stay in touch."

I've said this - and so have you - upon leaving a job and saying goodbye to your soon-to-be-former coworkers.

One of two things will now happen. You will. Or you won't. It doesn't matter what your stated intentions are. It's a process that takes on a life of its own, and suddenly that person you swore to keep in touch with is now very far in the rear view mirror, while others are in your life with stunning regularity.

I'm happy to say my good friend Ed, a former co-worker at Bloomberg Radio, fits into the latter category.

But why? How did Ed make the cut when others did not?

It might be our common fondness for breakfast at IHOP, where we meet every month or so. It might be the fact that we both have an undying love for the radio business, even if it hasn't always treated us so well.

But here's the real reason: Ed is totally wacky, which allows me to act the same way, with impunity. We could have the same silly conversation about the same thing 427,000 times in a row, and we'll laugh hysterically EVERY time.

The subject doesn't matter, although we have one favorite: Stupid management tricks, as practiced by my former and his still-current bosses.

However, the centerpiece of our wackiness revolves around Casey Kasem, the radio host who put American Top 40 on the radio map.

There's an AT40 outtake involving Casey that's made the rounds for years: he gets upset because his producer has him going from an upbeat song to a dedication to a now-deceased dog, a transition he's finding nearly impossible to make. As his rant continues, he gets angrier and moves on to pretty much every other subject that's bothering him.

The rant crescendos when he tries to calm down and read a custom promo for one of the radio stations that runs the show. It goes something like: " .. so tune in to American Top 40 Sunday mornings at 2 ..... TWO???????????"

Trust me. It's funny. It may be the funniest thing I've ever heard. It may not be apparent from the reading but it's funny. It is. It is. It really is. And it gets funnier each time.

Ed agrees. That alone would be enough to make him a friend, but it gets better. If our conversation (or any other within 457 miles) even comes close to referencing the number two .. you can bet your last dollar that one or both of us will yell out .. "TWO????????"

I know what you're thinking. "What's WRONG with these people?" But that's not really the point. No matter how stupid something may seem to be, it's a possible bonding point. And thanks to Casey Kasem, Ed and I will be friends for a long, long time. Even if IHOP goes out of business.

No, I Won't Introduce You To Maria

2007-12-01T16:22:00.000-05:00

In my years of working in financial/business journalism, I've been on the receiving end of many observations, questions, and downright wrong-headed notions about business, the stock market, and the media. Consider this list a time-saver so that if you meet me, we can skip past all this and get right to the good stuff:

1. In answer to the oft-asked question, yes, I do know all the hot female anchors who work at CNBC and no, I'm not going to introduce you to them. They're very happy to have that TV screen between you and them!

2. The guys who run your local gasoline station are NOT the ones making all the money from high gasoline prices, so don't yell at them. (I'm assuming you don't get your repair work done at the same place you fill up.)

3. Yes, I've bought and sold quite a few stocks in my lifetime. No, I'm not filthy rich from it. Did you notice I still work for a living? (And I enjoy doing so. Good thing!)

4. When stocks go down, I've noticed over the years that people like to chase me down the hall and say "What are you doing to me???" (That's why I ran the equivalent of 45 marathons following the bursting of the internet bubble.) I use the Bart Simpson defense on this one: "I didn't do it." I may write it, but I didn't cause it. Hey, if you're not going to give me credit when they go up, why should I take the blame when they fall?

5. Yes, having your company match 50% of your 401(K) contribution is a good deal. It's free money!! We have a complex financial term for those who don't do this: "lunkhead".

6. TV and radio broadcasters actually DO write some of what you hear them say. (When I was a morning radio anchor, some people were actually shocked to hear that I didn't just show up two minutes before airtime and read.)

7. No, being on TV or radio is not as easy as it may look to you.

8. The amount of money withheld from your paycheck for taxes is completely under your control, and the amount you ultimately pay in taxes is not the fault of your employer.

9. For those who wonder every year about whether to participate in "flexible spending" accounts for health benefits, see #5, especially the part about "lunkhead".

10. The stock market is, indeed, a big casino, without the free drinks.

Just Because You CAN Do Something ..

2007-12-01T11:17:00.000-05:00

... doesn't mean you should.

Let's cut right to the chase: wireless Bluetooth headsets for mobile phones are great. They're much safer for car use, and they give you the opportunity to be mistaken for a crazy person when you're walking down the street appearing to talk to no one in particular. But:

PLEASE STOP USING THEM IN THE BATHROOM.

I don't know why, but this drives me nuts. I see people doing this in the men's room at work ALL THE TIME. C'mon. Whatever you have to say just cannot possibly be that important. And I'll bet a week's salary that the person on the other end doesn't want to be talking to you while you're doing .. well, what you do in the bathroom.

I've not had the opportunity to research whether women do this in the ladies' room, but I'd bet not. So guys ... KNOCK IT OFF! Your conversation can wait. Take a newspaper into the bathroom like a real man!