January is funny.
New year, fresh starts—and somehow, a little extra time to look back. For me, January always brings up memories of cold mornings, early flights, and one very unlucky cup of coffee that kicked off a journey I never saw coming. As we settle into a brand-new year together, this feels like the perfect time to tell that story.
It was a windy, cold, blustery January morning in New Haven, Connecticut. Still dark outside, I headed to the Hartford airport for a job interview in Charlotte. At the time, I had absolutely no idea this trip would change the course of my life.
The flight was rough—turbulent enough that I managed to spill coffee all over my beige suit… in exactly the worst place possible. This was not the confident, polished first impression I had planned. I was flying in to see my friend Rick, who picked me up at the airport and drove me straight to the station. I’m sure the coffee stain didn’t go unnoticed.
My first meeting was with the Chief Engineer. We talked shop—satellites, uplinks, downlinks, Ku vs. C-band—the kind of conversation that instantly tells you whether you’re speaking the same language. Not long after that, Rick told me we were heading to lunch.
I assumed it would be something casual. I was very wrong.
Instead, I found myself at a swanky rooftop restaurant, seated at a table with Rick, who was the General Manager of the station, the company President, the Vice President of Programming, the Operations Manager, the Program Director—and the talent. That was the first time I met Bob Lacey and Sheri Lynch.
I was seated next to Sheri, who had just had her braces tightened and was bravely battling a plate of pasta that clearly wasn’t cooperating. Despite being visibly uncomfortable, she was firing off questions like a pro. Meanwhile, I was getting peppered from every direction. I talked a lot more than I ate and left lunch still hungry. I spent the entire meal hoping no one noticed the coffee stain.
Back at the station, Rick drove the President to the airport while I cooled my heels in a conference room. I remember feeling a strange sense of calm. I was exhausted, running on adrenaline, and very hungry—but I also felt completely comfortable. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Later, Rick returned and gave me a whirlwind driving tour of Charlotte as rain fell and darkness settled in. I had no idea where we were—everything looked nice from what I could tell—but I was beyond tired. As he dropped me off at the airport, Rick casually mentioned that the President had given him the okay to offer me the job. He’d be in touch.
If you’ve read this far, you already know how the story turned out.
I started a few weeks later and began working to take The Bob & Sheri Show into national syndication—never imagining it would become such a defining part of my life. It’s hard to believe that all of this started nearly thirty years ago.
All told, I’ve spent 26 years working on The Bob & Sheri Show (with a brief hiatus—yes, I came back right after the infamous SUV-in-the-pool episode). When you spend nearly half your adult life working with the same small group of people, they stop feeling like coworkers and start feeling like family. Being part of that extended family has become essential to who I am.
Max Sweeten and I became fast friends early on. He’s one of the most talented producers I’ve ever worked with—and one of the most loyal. In the early days of syndication, when nothing felt guaranteed, Max was always there: supporting, encouraging, and occasionally serving as a much-needed shoulder to cry on.
When I first met Lamar, I didn’t quite know what to make of him. He reminded me a lot of my Uncle Pasquale—only Southern. My uncle was the closest thing I had to a father, so once I made that connection, getting to know Lamar felt easy and familiar. And a whole lot of fun.
Sheri and I grew close over the years, and now she’s more like a sister to me—closer, honestly, than my actual sister. She is, without question, the funniest and most intelligent person I know. Life often feels like one of those circus acts where you’re spinning plates nonstop. Sheri spins more plates than anyone I’ve ever met—and does it so effortlessly that you don’t even notice she’s doing it. She’s truly remarkable.
Doc and Heather are more recent additions to the family, but they fit right in. I worked with Doc years ago at the Old Station but never fully appreciated just how good he is. He anticipates what we need before we even know we need it. It’s comforting to know he always has our backs.
I didn’t get the chance to work with Heather back then, and I wish I had. She genuinely cares about people. She’s a caretaker, a proud Cat Lady, a social media wizard—and endlessly patient with a technically challenged Boomer like me.
Thirty years have passed in what feels like the blink of an eye. We’ve shared the highs and lows of syndication—a business that can be exciting and energizing. It can also be frustrating and heartbreaking. We’ve won awards, lost awards, celebrated incredible personal milestones, and mourned heartbreaking losses. I’ve seen some of the most beautiful places in America, met fascinating people, and enjoyed the simple joy of sitting around a campfire with friends.
Max once summed it up perfectly:
We’ve never worked so hard—or laughed so hard—in our lives.
I feel incredibly blessed to have been part of this amazing ride, all of which started with a cup of spilled coffee on a blustery morning in January 1996.
