Anyone who’s ever read this blog past the first few pages has heard me mention Jeff Tobin a few times. Jeff is one of my oldest friends, mostly because he’s 16 hours older than me. We were both drum majors in our all-scholarship military school band and went to the same college afterwards. We also shared short but colorful careers in radio.
This is from JeffreyTobin.com, Jeff’s professional site and blog. Jeff brings up this radio “war story” whenever we see each other, which is far too infrequently. ‘Preciate the write up, sir!
And if you’ve not subscribed to Jeff’s blog, do it now. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
I’ve worked in broadcasting in some form or other since I was in my teens, and I learned early on that one must always expect the unexpected.
It was the late 70′s at radio station WKST in New Castle, Pa. My best buddy from school and I had continued our close and wonderful relationship through college and into the broadcasting world at area radio stations.
We knew each other well. We were a team and trusted each other implicitly. We still do, these many miles and decades later.
Dan Wolfe was live and on the air on a sunny Saturday morning. From atop a downtown building, he described for his audience a community parade as it passed by. I was back at the studio in the control room running the show from behind the scenes as Dan listened to the broadcast through his headphones.
“Here comes the high school band!” He described the view as the audience listened to the music. “And there go the WWII veterans all marching in formation…”
He heard the music of the bagpiper regiment grow louder as it approached the grand stand. But he could see no bagpipers. He looked up and down the street, but there were no kilts, no drum major, no drums. Nothing. Still, the music swelled in his headphones. How could this be?
Suddenly I heard an almost imperceptible chuckle in his voice: The little giggle of which I’d become so fond over the years. Dan realized the music wasn’t coming from the parade at all, it was coming from the studio! I was playing a recording of bagpipers and carefully feeding it into the mix.
Dan didn’t miss a beat. He described in great detail the approaching phantom regiment – the bagpipes, the colors, the regalia. And off they marched into the mind’s eye of our listeners. There never really were any bagpipers, and no one was ever the wiser.
My little joke was not a test of Dan’s abilities, but an investment in trust. I was confident that Dan would manage the situation. He was able, and he handled the unforeseen with the panache of the consummate professional he was.
And we grew closer together, both personally and professionally.
This week at my office, I demonstrated that same trust in one of our current employees, handing her a substantive project I knew she could handle. Like Dan, she rose to the occasion, taking the project on as if it were her own. It was. And she didn’t miss a beat.
If you want to move your organization forward, first develop trust. When trust is established, you can hand off responsibilities that express that trust. In this way, a test of skill is no longer a test; it becomes an empowerment… an empowerment for personal and organizational growth.
“Handing off the bagpipers” to an employee is a gift. It’s a gift that makes everything stronger: The employee, your relationship, and the organization.
I could post a zillion photos that I took of the President during his visit to my workplace on Tuesday July 15th, but I’m only posting two from that event here, one of which is not of the President.
My friend and co-worker, Taylor Lochrane, shared research details with the President during his visit on July 15th.
Federal Highway Administration’s Robotic RABIT Concrete Bridge Deck Assessment Tool. This thingy can evaluate the condition of a concrete bridge deck in about one-eighth the time required by more conventional methods. I have no clue how this works, but it does and it’s cool.
While yes, the President was at Turner-Fairbank on July 15th, I was also afforded the opportunity to photograph our Secretary of Transportation, Anthony Foxx. Foxx became the 17th United States Secretary of Transportation on July 2, 2013 and gave the introduction to Mr. Obama’s speech on the economy. This was Secretary Foxx’s first visit to our research facility.
When I was in Pennsylvania covering the RABIT’s appearance on a rural bridge, I happened across these helmets in the community fire station in which we held some informational briefings about the robot. I thought the lineup of these fireman’s helmets made for a good photo.
I stumble across all sorts of stuff in my archives, some of which has never seen the light of day. Here’s #1 in a series of posts I’m going to make when I find some of these treasures. Some will be captioned, others will not. The only criteria for posting in this series is that:
a.) I’m in the photo or…
b.) … I took the photo.
Youngest son Andy, Me, oldest son Jonathon and the ever-so-talented actor and great friend, Frank Simons many moons ago in California. Frank was one of the very first people I met when I moved to California in 1990. He and I have shared many discussions about politics, Star Trek, television and pretty much everything. He’s one of my most dear friends and miss our debates. There’s no one else I’d rather have an argument with!
Ben Vereen visited the Pentagon some months after 9/11 when I was working on the Army’s Crisis Action team. Great guy! So is Ben.
Look closely — you’ll see a laptop computer in-flight immediately prior to its demise. We called this “Computer Assisted Suicide” and had a party to celebrate the passing of my laptop. (Needless to say, alcohol was served.) Acting as the Range Safety Officer is the late Lt. Col. Bob Hagen, who assured that we didn’t drop the laptop on an unsuspecting vehicle. He’s giving us the thumbs up at the top of the photo.
This was taken on the flight line at Nellis AFB near Las Vegas, NV in 2005. With me is Retired Lt. Gen. Ed Soyster who was at the time the director of the World War II 60th Anniversary Commemoration Committee. I was the Chief of Staff for awhile as well as the PAO for the Committee. This job and working with this fine gentleman was one of the highlights of my nearly 29 year Army career.
Six-year-old Nate cued up “The Simpsons Movie” in the DVR the other day before departing on spring break for Ohio and it got me to thinking about all things Simpson. I remembered the earliest shorts on “The Tracey Ullman Show” on through the later episodes. Some were genuinely hilarious and at the beginning, it was cutting-edge, subervise television. The writing never ceased to be clever, intelligent and tight.
One episode I remembered that really got my attention and made me laugh was “Poppa’s Got a Brand New Badge.” Right before he goes to bed, Homer tells Marge, “I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life: boxer, mascot, astronaut, baby proofer, imitation Krusty, duck driver, hippie, plow driver, food critic, conceptual artist, grease salesman, carny, mayor, grifter, body guard for the mayor, country western manager, garbage commissioner, mountain climber, farmer, inventor, Smithers, Poochie, celebrity assistant, power plant worker, fortune cookie writer, beer baron, Kwik-E-Mart jerk, homophobe, and missionary, but protecting people, that gives me the best feeling of all.” It’s a very funny little bit and stops you dead in your tracks if you’re watching the episode. For me, it’s always been one of the more memorable scenes from a really great show.
This was the final episode of season 13 and they’re up to season 25 or some such thing. Imagine how many other jobs he’s had by now!
Anyway, I was wondering what my list would sound like. So here’s my list. I’m including the stuff I did for free, but that were still significant enough to say “It was my job.” There are some repeats because I did some jobs a few times.
Read it with Homer’s voice in your head. It’ll be a lot more interesting that way.
Musician
Stock boy
Sales clerk
Summer camp counselor
High school and college teacher
Fast-food cook
Fast-food sales clerk
Consumer electronic salesman
College deejay
ROTC cadet
Deejay
Assistant News Director
Radio TV Officer
Deejay
TV news anchor
Community theater actor
Platoon Leader
Radio and TV Station Manager
High school instrumental music teacher and conductor
Assistant Conductor of a military band
Commercial deejay again
Telecommunications officer
Company commander
Professional Actor
Community theater actor
Voiceover artist
Commercial deejay again
Electronic Media Officer
Public Affairs Officer
Security guard
TV master control operator
Instructor in computer subjects
Unit commander
TV network master control operator
Computer subjects instructor
Radio and TV Station Manager
Video tape operator
Public Affairs Officer
TV network master control operator
Computer subjects instructor
Supervisor, TV Network operations E!
Plans Officer, Army Public Affairs
Chief, Army senior leader support team
Chief of Staff
Staff Officer
Chief of Staff again
Deputy Commander
Retiree
Program Manager
Marketing Communications Specialist
This is a rerun of a post I made in December, 2013 and unfortunately lost in a giant computer and database crash. I believed it to be lost to the ages, however, I found a copy unexpectedly today while assisting another blogger in site management. I am reposting it here because… Well, because I liked it and was disappointed to have lost it. More importantly, it celebrates a terrific friendship dating back to 1972 and continues to this day.
But MOST importantly, I hope to settle this highly contentious disagreement once and for all.
I’m the better Drum Major.
Now SOME might try to mislead you to the conclusion that I’m not, but I am. Seriously, I’m not kidding around here.
I’m the better Drum Major.
This misinformation campaign has been going on since 1974 and I think it’s time for the definitive work on this subject to be written, disseminated and entered into the public record. So make note of this. You’ll be tested on this at some point and I expect y’all to have the right answer:
I’m the better Drum Major.
Someone is spreading lies about this. And I think I know. Who is it that dares to challenge decades of Drum Major greatness? Well, that would be the SECOND best (by a long shot) Drum Major, Jeffrey Tobin. While I respect Mr. Tobin and actually consider him to be a friend – perhaps even his ONLY friend, I’m just tired of the whining. Get over it, dude! Here’s a hanky. Go dry your eyes, put on your big boy pants and get a life.
“Come and take it – Slogan at the Battle of Gonzales”
(Yeah, I searched Google for that. Dammit Jim, I’m the better Drum Major not a military historian.)
This all goes back to the Valley Forge Military Academy and Junior College Band. I was a member from 1971-1976. The aforementioned Mr. Tobin joined me in my second year. It was during that second year that I started practicing to lead this talented and accomplished group (including Mr. Tobin) of high school and college musicians while on the march. You’ve probably seen photos of military bands each with a brightly dressed Drum Major in front of the band with a mace, a roughly five-foot long staff, weighted at one end and adorned with all sorts of flashy accoutrements. The Drum Major uses the mace to move the band forward, turn left or right, or perform some other maneuver all while the band performs martial music to stirring effect. The Drum Major’s specific movements are rehearsed so often that just a glance from any member of the band and they know what the hell is going on.
Make sense?
Being the Drum Major was a big deal at Valley Forge. The Drum Major had a different uniform and a huge, ornate sash sewn with gold thread. The sash weighed a ton, but it looked awesome and as soon as I saw the Drum Major my plebe (first) year, I knew that’s where I wanted to be.
Greg Ream was the Drum Major my plebe year. Jeff Zimmerman was the Drum Major the next two. That gave me three years to practice and get good at it. Somewhere along the way, Jeff Tobin also developed an interest in being the Drum Major, but as I was hoping to be the heir apparent, he’d have to get in line behind me where he belonged. And much to his credit, he did.
Tobin and Wolfe, early to mid 1970’s.
We were friends – still are, really. Best of friends. For the years we were at Valley Forge, we practiced the mace manual, which is what the movements are collectively called, almost every day. Yeah, we were both pretty damned good. Jeff even developed a modification of the manual for the mace in which we could both participate simultaneously. Yeah, he’s creative AND talented. Best friends, yes, but I hate his guts anyway.
So the year comes and the Bandmaster, Col. D. Keith “Duke” Feltham notified me that I’d be the Drum Major in my fourth year and since there was another after that before graduation, probably my fifth year as well.
It was a lock. When Duke said something, it happened. Period.
That’s me on the left with the mace.
So in the 1974-75 academic year, I was the Drum Major of the Valley Forge Military Academy Band.
But Mr. Tobin, that rat in sheep’s clothing, never let me forget he was waiting in the wings for me to have a heart attack at the tender age of 19 or some such other debilitating event.
Never.
Tobin’s taunts, in pencil (Click to examine closely.)
In fact, while digitizing some music from reel-to-reel tapes of the era, I found this on the back of one of the boxes. My note mentions my cadet rank at the time “M/Sgt Drum Major.” Please note Mr. Tobin’s handwriting reads “But not for long, Ha Ha!”
Jackass.
So anyway, as I said, there I was in the fall of 74, leading the band as the Drum Major. That was, until drummer Pat Parker was involved in a serious automobile accident taking him out of the four-man drum line for a number of weeks prior to the band’s VERY important performance at the Harrisburg Horse Show. We’d already learned the marching routines thoroughly. Reorganizing the band to account for Pat’s absence and relearning everything was far harder than sending me back to the drum line where I’d been the previous two years. Fortunately, there was one man who was prepared to step in and lead the band while I was back in the drum line.
Ha! Revenge, in whatever minute quantity, is still sweet.
That’s right. Jeffrey Tobin, back stabber.
I jest. (I don’t.)
So Jeff led the band until Pat came back healthy, took his place on the drum line and I went back to the front of the band where I belonged, Jeff in the trombone section behind me where he belonged.
I was the Drum Major for Harrisburg and the rest of the year proceeded without incident. I did my job as the Drum Major proudly and with all the dignity, flair and precision that I could muster – and that was a lot. WAY more than that wanna-be in the trombone section.
The next year, to make a long story short, as expected, I was again selected to be the Drum Major. Until they needed a trumpet player on the march. But this time, it wasn’t temporary and I was asked by Col. Feltham if I’d go back and play trumpet instead of being the Drum Major.
Yeah, not part of the plan, but we were all being paid generous scholarships and Duke always stressed professionalism and all that happy horseshit (all of those things are true, but it felt like happy horse shit at the time) and so of course, I reluctantly agreed to step aside and play trumpet.
So Jeff Tobin could take the mace.
Jerk.
So a few weeks in to the 1975-76 academic year, Jeffrey Edwin Tobin became the next in a long line of bandsmen to lead the VFMA band.
Tobin and Wolfe, circa 2002.
Did I mention we’re still friends?
Well we are. Thoroughly.
And I could not have been more fortunate to hand over the mace to a finer cadet, a finer person and yes, even a fine (Ha! You thought I was going to say “finer,” didn’t you?) Drum Major. If I were going to give up something that was that important to me, I would have wanted it to go to someone worthy and who deserved the opportunity as much as any of us who led the band.
Jeff performed admirably. We still kept at the double-man mace manual often. We continued to be a team through those years at VF, then at Westminster College. When we discovered that we both had some talent for radio, we were a team there too, doing all sorts of crazy stunts at our respective radio stations.
Ok, so maybe I wasn’t the best Drum Major. (But I was.) But Jeff was damned good, too. Really good. Really, really good.
I like to think that I’ve mellowed over the decades, but I’m still bitter and I’m still better.
I jest. (I don’t.)
No, seriously. I’ve mellowed. The long-standing feud about who’s the better Drum Major is now, due to advancing age, a long-sitting feud. But there’s no person alive or dead who I’d consider a peer when it comes to being a Drum Major other than Jeff.
I didn’t say that out loud, did I? (I did.)
So ok, you can believe whatever you want to about who’s the better Drum Major.
Just lie to me about it when you see me, ok? I have feelings, you know. Thanks.
Tobin and Wolfe, circa 2012. (Long story about the USS Enterprise in the background.)
Anyone who’s ever read this blog past the first few pages has heard me mention Jeff Tobin a few times. Jeff is one of my oldest friends, mostly because he’s 16 hours older than me. We were both drum majors in our all-scholarship military school band and went to the same college afterwards. We also shared short but colorful careers in radio. 
I’ve worked in broadcasting in some form or other since I was in my teens, and I learned early on that one must always expect the unexpected.
