Unpacking the Past. Unboxing the Future.

The word “journey” is tossed around quite a bit these days. I mean, everyone you meet seems to be on a journey of some sort. You’ve got your fitness journey, the real estate journey, heck, I’ve even seen people on a coffee journey. You know the type… “searching for free trade, single origin enlightenment one cup at a time.” So this is not a journey. It’s Retro Spin Chronicles. With a little bit of time and luck, I hope to chronicle my interest in getting back into vinyl and setting up my own spin room. A groove den, if you will. Sort of my version of a personal DJ booth.

It starts with unpacking the past. I grew up in a small rural farm town in the middle of Central Texas. Iola, Texas, is sandwiched perfectly between Huntsville to the east and Bryan/College Station to the west. One has the state penitentiary, the other has Texas A&M University. I grew up on 103 acres of farm and prairie land. Back in the late ’70s, there wasn’t much to do in Iola — unless you counted farm work, the local video game arcade, or the skating rink. It was the kind of town where if someone got a new tractor, it was basically breaking news.

Music was always a constant friend. I graduated in 1983 and joined the Army, and after basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ, Uncle Sam sent me to Germany. For 18 months during 1985–1986 I lived life to the fullest while serving my country. It was amazing — and in a lot of ways, it laid the foundation for who I am today. I met a lot of great guys, and as it happens when you get a bunch of young men from all walks of life together, you form bonds and share experiences that stick. My time in Europe will show up throughout The Retro Spin Chronicles because, once again, music played a big part in that chapter of my life. While I was over there, I built up a killer album collection — the kind of stuff you couldn’t find back home. Many had unique European cover art, slightly different mixes, and that cool “import” sticker that made you feel like a true collector. I lugged that collection from base to base like it was gold. But when vinyl started to die out in the late 80s and early 90s — like so many others — I boxed up those great albums and eventually let them go. Big mistake. Every record had a story, and I gave them all away for nothing more than the promise of shiny new CDs. (Spoiler alert: the CDs didn’t have the same soul.)

I headed back to Humble, Texas (just north of Houston), to start my civilian life. I needed a job, and the local skating rink was looking for a DJ. You can laugh — it’s OK. A skating rink DJ, I get it. But I can shuffle skate like it's nobody’s business, and the music was right in my wheelhouse. For a little over a year, I ruled the rink. During that time, my mom found a newspaper ad for the Columbia School of Broadcasting in Houston. She said I was a natural who talked all the time and loved music (no argument there). She encouraged me to apply, and she gave me the confidence to dream big about being on the radio. So I went to CSB while still spinning records for the roller crowd.

The dream became a reality at a small, low-powered AM station in Tomball, Texas — KTBT AM 700 “stereo.” Yep, stereo AM. It was a thing. (Kind of like 3D TV or Crystal Pepsi — brief, but glorious.) We were still trying to compete with the big FM signals out of Houston, playing MOR classics from the ’70s and ’80s — Carole King, Elton John, Bread, The Eagles, Jackson Browne, Fleetwood Mac… some of the most amazing music ever recorded. I started out on late-night weekends and just kept at it. Pay was crap, but I loved every second of it. We had a mix of 45s, albums, and carts. I wish I had pictures from back then. Later that year, in ’89, a TV broadcaster from Houston led a group and purchased the station. They changed the call letters to KSEV and flipped it to news talk, which was where AM radio was heading. That man was Dan Patrick. He kept me on, and I learned to work and produce talk radio.

It was a great time for AM Radio — a new show was starting in syndication called The Rush Limbaugh Show. We were among the early stations to carry Rush, and man, that was a blast. I worked for Dan for a few years, we had so much fun and it further cemented my love for radio. Dan later launched a career in politics and is now the Lt. Governor of Texas.

Looking back, I didn’t realize it at the time, but music and radio kept showing up at every crossroads in my life. It was always there, quietly waiting for me to tune back in.

I took that experience to Houston and landed a gig at KPRC AM Talk 950 — a true “talker.” We had a morning news block, Doug Johnson (the lovable TV weatherman) from noon to 3 p.m., then sports talk with Martini & Edmonds in the afternoon. I produced both the Doug Johnson Show and Martini & Edmonds. Being in Houston helped me land a part-time weekend on-air job at KLTR 93.7 FM — K-Lite. This was a CBS-owned station, the city’s #1 “at-work” station, playing what was then “Soft Rock.” I was hired to host The K-Lite Café, a 7 p.m.–midnight smooth jazz special. It introduced me to a whole new genre and added another layer to my love of music. I’ve had stints in Houston, Knoxville, and Raleigh, where I left radio in 2001. It was a dream of a lifetime that lasted a little over a decade.

And here I am, 36 years after seeing that on-air light glow for the first time — still getting the same buzz from cueing up a record. I think I just missed that feeling of putting a needle down and letting the world slow to 33⅓ again. It’s about finding that perfect groove, telling a story through sound, and letting the moment breathe. Special thanks to my best friend of over 30 years, Rob Minton — it was his prodding that convinced me to dust off my old gear and get back in the game. I love you, brother!

So that’s what The Retro Spin Chronicles are all about — rediscovering music and memories through vinyl. The setup, the crate digs, and the classic gems. Next, I’ll be setting up my new groove den and finally unboxing the turntable that started this whole thing. So grab your headphones, your latest LP obsession, and let’s see where this needle drops.