Chapter 53

It was Wednesday when Brenda texted us saying that she was bringing a boy home to hang out. Ashlee was at work and it was the last week of December before Christmas break. I was home working with Adam to straighten out the situation with Ralph Lauren. He had contacted them saying that we were not trying to perform a hostile takeover; it was an error in their buying and selling software that caused such a large purchase, not a hostile takeover. They were relieved by hearing that and when Adam broached the subject of selling the shares to the company instead on the open market, they said no thanks and gave their blessing to sell them on the open market. So, Adam started selling them in Europe where the money from the sale would be deposited in a foreign bank away from the IRS. I liked the plan and encouraged him to do more of that. Getting my money off shore would help keep my tax burden to a minimum.

Two teens arrived home and I was introduced to a young man who was the same height as Brenda. Handsome kid to boot. He didn't look like a football player, but when I asked him, he said that he was on the math team, science club and he liked to play chess.

"Well those are three things that I have never been very good at. Maybe the time will arrive when we can share a game."

"That would be nice sir."

"Come on Calvin, let's go to my room."

He looked a bit panicked by the suggestion she made in front of me. "Don't worry about it Calvin, you'll be safe with her, for now."

He looked confused as Brenda dragged him off to her room and closed the door behind them. I went back to my office and tried to focus on finding ways to reduce my tax burden. We made some progress but we would have to get with the lawyers and Craig just to make sure everything would work out and the meeting broke up shortly thereafter.

After he had left, I took a breather leaning back in my chair with my eyes closed trying to process the craziness of my finances.

"Daddy, we're going down to the pool." Brenda called from the hallway. I looked up, she had a cover-up on and behind her was Calvin with a t-shirt and some very wildly colored shorts on. They looked respectable enough.

"Brenda, show me your suit." I said, knowing full well that she had some of the skimpiest suits known to the whole of humanity in her closet. She reached down and lifted her cover up and showed me her suit. It was bright orange and one of her modest suits. I twirled my finger in the air and she spun around and showed me the back. Yup, the back of her suit was a normal style that covered her backside but was still cute. "Ok, you two have a good time and behave. Remember, we share that pool with everyone in the building."

"We will daddy." So they left and I chilled. I was getting nowhere with this so I flipped on the radio and turned it to Scott and Dana show and gave them a listen.

The topic of the day was the shooting over in Libya where their leader was killed. Scott was going on and on about how it was the government that did it or their military and how bad it was and how we were heading to WW3 any day now. Blah blah blah. Not a fun topic.

So I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up. What was more exciting than some far off country where their leader was killed and the world was heading to the crapper. Christmas. It's December and Christmas is right around the corner where gifts were being given and celebrations would happen. Happiness and joy should abound. With the stress of life, we needed more happiness.

I grabbed my phone and called 'New Boss.'

"Hello KMBZ, this is Sam."

"Sam, this is Paul Johnson. Got a minute?"

"Hey Paul! So glad to hear from you. What is going on?"

"I was listening to the radio just now and an idea struck me. We need more joy and happiness in this town and seeing how I'm the happiest guy on the planet, I wanted to spread some of my joy around and make a few people happy."

"So why are you calling me?"

"Well, seeing as how you are the 'New Boss' I was hoping to use your station to spread that joy around. Are you interested?"

"Let me get this straight, you want to run a contest through us, out of the blue, and just thought you could call me up and make it happen?"

Ok, now exactly what I had expected, he seemed even a little annoyed by the idea. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, just the whole world is falling apart. I have several contracts to get approved and signed off on or we lose talent, my wife is pregnant and gone nuts, Christmas is right around the corner and I have no idea what I'm doing for that." He took a deep breath. Tried to calm down before continuing. "I have no idea if I'm coming or going."

"Well I'm sorry to have called and bothered you. I was hoping to spread some joy so maybe I should help you first. Maybe make your day better so you can feel the joy. Would you like some help with your burdens?"

"Yes I would."

"Well tell me, what can I do to help?"

So he began. He needed one of the radio stations DJs to sign their contract or they would have to find a new guy. His wife couldn't decide on a baby room design. She needed all sorts of help. He then listed off several other things that were bothering him including a lack of sex at home. I couldn't help with that, but I suggested that my interior design lady could be brought in and help her make up her mind. I offered to come to the station and talk to the DJ and see what the problem is and then asked the big question, "Can I bother Scott and Dana and see if I could use them to give away some joy?"

"Sure. Come on down to the station and I'll introduce you to the DJ and then I'll give you the address where you can send your designer."

"Excellent. I'll be right down."

"Thanks." We hung up from each other and I changed out of my comfy pants into jeans and a comfy shirt with a sports coat over it. I looked professional yet it was comfortable as well.

I breezed through the pool area. "Brenda!" I yelled out from the door. The two teens looked my way and waved. They had both been diving from the board and trying to make the biggest splash. Typical. "I'm going out for a bit. Don't leave without letting me or mom know."

"Ok dad." She then jumped on the back of Calvin and tried to dunk him. Good times.

I let Larry, the doorman for the building, know that I was stepping out and to keep an eye on the kids for me. "Sure thing Mr. Johnson."

I got in my Jeep and drove to the station. Why didn't I take the Porsche you may be wondering? Well most of the snow had melted from the street, but there were still a few patches here and there that were messy and I didn't want to take a chance of wrecking. If I wreck in my Jeep, I have a roll bar cage around me while the Porsche does not. I simply felt safer in my Jeep than it.

When I arrived at the station, the receptionist recognized me and took me straight back to see Sam 'New Boss.' He got up from behind his desk and greeted me like I was Jesus in the flesh. "Paul, I am so glad to see you." He thanked the receptionist and she went back to the front. "Let me introduce you to our talent who has not signed his contract. If you can get it signed, then you would be my hero."

We moved through all of the cubicles until we managed to get to the faraway office of a DJ who runs the morning show on the company's rock and roll station. One company, many stations in one place.

Sam knocked on the door and the music coming from inside was turned down and a rather disheveled long haired rocker with a torn black t-shirt and jeans with heavy black work boots on his feet answered the door. "What?"

Yes, he was gruff sounding. Yes, he didn't seem very happy to be bothered. Yes, he did smell just as bad as he looked.

"John, I've brought in a negotiator to talk to you about your contract. I'd like to..."

"Stop right there. I'm not talking to some asshole stuffed suit. Fuck off." He closed the door rather firmly and again the music was turned back up and we just looked at each other.

"What is the point of contention here?" I asked him.

"He isn't happy about the pay we offering him. He is also pissed off about the rider for personal appearances that we are asking for."

We started back for his office and while we were walking, he asked me what I was going to do about it.

"I don't really know yet. I have heard his show way back when he had a woman on the program with him. The two of them great together and I enjoyed listening to them. He did crazy radio stunts and she was the voice of reason for his craziness. Then she left and I got saved so I stopped listening to his show."

"Well, you aren't the only one." We arrived back at his office and we sat down at his conference table and talked. "His show has been going down since then. We get bumps every now and then, but management still wants him due to his popularity on the internet. I think he is the only hard rock DJ still active. So, we get hits from all over the world. The owners don't want him to leave, but they still need his face out there locally to maintain the listeners we still have."

I sat back and thought for a minute. "What are his demands? What does he want that the station is not going for?"

"He wants no personal appearances at all. No more. He says that he is tired of being the face of the station all the time." Sam 'New Boss' sighed and rubbed his face then said "Personally, I think that the station should give him what he wants and take his show away from him and leave him on the internet only. Put someone else on the radio at his time slot and make them the new face of the station."

I asked a question interrupting him. "Aren't there any new voices at the college level that can come in here so much cheaper than him and make a go of it? I'm sure that there are some hungry college kids that would give their left nut to be a morning DJ for this place."

"That is what I was telling the men I report to. They are all in New York at the home office. I have told them many times the same thing, they just don't get it."

"Well Sam, or is it 'New Boss' like Scott says all the time? I haven't gotten a complete answer to that question."

He laughed, "Yes, well, Scott does that still to this day. I have no idea why, but every time he calls me he uses 'New Boss' as my name instead of my real name."

"How long have you been here?"

"Five years now. But to him, It's still 'New Boss.'"

We took a moment to gather our thoughts, and then I spoke. "Why don't you put together a contract for me to be the negotiator for your office and I'll sign it then go to New York for you."

"Can't. All contracts come from the home office. I couldn't get that done this year no matter how hard I pushed. It is either John changes or his show ends. Plain and simple. When he leaves, then I'll probably lose my job since the ratings will drop both online and locally and the whole thing comes crashing down. See why I'm stressed?"

"So for now, I'm your unofficial negotiator and solver of a few problems. Is that right?"

"Yes you are."

I pulled my phone out and dialed Julie. We spoke briefly and I gave her Sam's phone number and situation and she said that she loves baby rooms and will be happy to work with his wife. So, one down and one to go. "I'm going to head back over to his office and see what I can do."

"Thanks." Sam went back to his desk and did whatever he does.

When I got to John's office, I heard the music coming from inside, I looked around and found no cameras nearby so I did what I do when children are behaving badly, I walked in.

John was lying on his couch with his arm over his eyes and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying on the floor hear his hand on the floor. I went to the stereo and turned the knob back to a more average level.

"What the FUCK!" came the voice on the couch. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office? Get the FUCK OUT!!" he was on his feet and pointing an angry finger at me.

"John, SIT DOWN!!" I had to use my big voice to catch him off guard and get him to sit down and shut up.

It stopped him from advancing on me but he was still a mess. Still mad, but he had at least stopped. "What the fuck do you want? I said that I wasn't going to talk to some stuff suit about this bullshit contract."

I went to his guest chair and sat down. I had taken my sport coat off and took up a position of relaxation. "Why don't you sit down so we can talk? Sam asked me to come and talk to you, as a help to him. He is up to here," I held my hand at eye level. "With stress and I am here to spread some joy. Now can we talk?"

He paced a few times in front of me then with a huff, flopped on his couch again. He picked up the bottle off the floor and up-ended it trying to get the last bit of alcohol out. Nothing happened so he chucked it at the garbage can and made the shot.

"Nicely done." I commented trying to break some ice.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Paul Johnson. You probably don't remember me or the times I have been here. Last summer, I was the guy who brought in the Italian food for everyone."

"Yes, I remember that. Tasted really good." He then sat for a second. "Thanks."

"You are welcome. I'm glad that you liked it. Now, I would very much like to talk to you about the contract. I want to get your side of it."

He actually got up and went to his desk and brought back the contract. He flipped through it and then when he found the page he was looking for, he handed it to me to read. "Look what they want me to do."

I read through the legalese and tried to make heads out of it. As far as I could tell, they were asking him to go out of his studio and do his shows live once per month and twice during the ratings seasons. It didn't seem too bad so I handed it back to him. "What else?"

He flipped to another portion and showed me the page. "Look what they are trying to pay me?"

I read the number and it was a base line of $52,250 per year. There was a bonus for ratings of an extra $10,000 and personal appearance pay of an extra $1,000.

"So, they are going to pay you roughly $70k per year to work here. From where I'm sitting, that doesn't sound too bad. I never made that much as a teacher in a college. I know that my fiancé isn't getting paid that."

"Hey, I was making over 100 grand three years ago. Now they expect me to take this insulting amount of money? Don't they know who I am?" He was getting loud again.

"No John. They don't. This came in from New York and no one there cares who you are. They see it as numbers on a spreadsheet. Plain and simple. Your numbers are way down so they probably feel that you aren't worth that amount anymore."

"Fuck!" He yelled again and went to his desk. He rummaged around and pulled another bottle out. He took the cap off and took a swig from the bottle.

I got up and went to him and took a hold on the bottle. "Let me lay this out for you. It is a buyer's market out there. This station can and will find some punk kid from a college program, pay him minimum wage and put him on the air instead of you. Then, when they do that, your boss is going to lose his job and who knows how many of the sales staff is going to find themselves on the unemployment line with you. Just let that sink into your brain for a second."

He tried to lift the bottle to his lips again, but I held fast and he couldn't move it. With me being over six feet tall and weighing in over 200 pounds, a lot of it being muscle, there was nothing he could do at 5 foot 5 inches tall and a buck-o-five in weight. If I didn't want him to move, he wasn't going to.

He let go of the bottle after a second attempt at moving it toward his face and I put it on his desk and then capped it and put it in the trash. "Now, are you ready to think for a minute or are you going to continue to be difficult?"

"Fine." He flopped back onto the couch and covered his eyes with his arm.

"Now tell me something I don't know. Like why the heck are you sitting in your office blasting away with this rock stuff drinking?"

"I'm worth than what they are paying me. I'm worth more than that."

"That is what you are telling me. The only problem is that they don't see it that way. They see you with falling numbers and as the drunk guy in his office making it hard for others to work. That is what they see."

He was quiet for a minute. Then he said something honest for once. "It wasn't like this back when I had Joyce with me."

Jackpot. I knew something was bothering him. I knew it was something. "When did she leave?"

"Back when that jackass Sam arrived. He wanted just me to do the show, but we were a team. We made the show together and that's how we managed to make this damn place #1 in Kansas City. We!" He said emphatically. "We were so popular that people on the internet would call us in the middle of the night sometimes and tell us that they were listening. I had people in Europe call and tell us that they were listening to us. Europe for Christ sake!"

He took a few breaths to calm himself. "Now look at us. Those jackasses over at 93 are kicking our asses every single day and ... and..." that was when the water works started. This blusterous drunk DJ just burst out with tears. I moved to kneel next to him while I let it all out. I pulled my hanky out of my pocket and waited for him to finish.

When the crying finally ran its course, I held my hanky out to him. He took it and used it. He offered it back to me, I waved him off. After what he did to it, well, I could afford another.

"Ok, so what now?" I asked him. "I see this as a situation where you are not happy with your job. You are taking your frustration out with alcohol and generally being an ass, and you miss the popularity. Of course you are missing being #1 in Kansas City. I understand."

"Yup, that sums it up." He blew his nose a time or two more and I moved to my chair.

"Where is Joyce?"

"She is still in KC, but as some crazy housewife. She married some doctor and decided to stay home and be mom. A mom?! Can you believe that shit?"

"When was the last time you talked to her?"

"She won't take my calls and even changed her number. I don't know what it is now."

I stood up and put my coat back on. "Let's go."

He uncovered his eyes, "What?"

"If this woman is so important to you, then let's go and talk to her. Maybe she is just as sad as you are and the two of you need time to talk."