It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.

That’s what I’ve been saying to everyone lately.  Well, I guess I said that a lot in the last 18 years.   You might say I haven’t held a real job in a long time.

Growing up I realized my talents were virtually non-existent.  That pretty much qualified me for one thing:  radio.

Despite my teacher’s insistence on trying to shut me up, it never really stuck, and I was destined to earn a living with my yapper.    “Earn a living” might not be the best choice of words, but I was able to scratch out enough to pay rent and eventually buy  a small house.

I spent 18 years on the radio.  If you lived near Fargo, you may have known me as “T-Bone”.  I can’t tell you the last time I paid for a concert ticket or a cd.

I got to go backstage and meet people like Jay Leno, Alice Cooper, and various other rock stars, actors and comedians.  Don’t get me wrong, it was pretty cool.

But each summer was filled with fairs, festivals and “(city name) DAYS” that kept me off the water.  Also, each fall was filled with concerts, tailgating events, and “ratings periods” that kept my 12 gauge in the closet.   Again, these can all be fun events that are enjoyed by many and many times by myself as well.   But I was working most of them, and most of all, they were keeping me from what I really wanted to do.

I feel like I missed out on a lot of those fish that “got away” and stealthy mallards that snuck past before I had a chance to shoulder my shotgun.

 “Sorry Jay, it was cool to meet you,

but I’d rather be cold, wet and

surrounded by fake ducks.”

Radio is a shrinking industry and I became victim to the latest round of downsizing.  You could fill a duck blind the size of the Target Field with talented radio people who’ve recently spent an afternoon filling out unemployment paperwork.

When my number was called, after 10 years in the same building, I decided it was time to hang up the headphones.  I entertained the idea of moving around for another radio job, but I liked living in the Fargo area.   More importantly, I wanted to find something that was going to allow me to live life the way I want to.

I have a friend who likes to say, “Life is not a spectator sport”.  I think that sums it up perfectly.  It was time to get in the game.   It was time to “work to live, not live to work” and any other motivational phrase you can come up with.

When I saw the classified ad for the Minnesota Sporting Journal, I felt I finally found what I was looking for (with respect to U2).

I couldn’t be more excited to be a part of the team.  My job will be hunting and fishing.  And of course selling ads.  Your business should be in the magazine.   Call me and we’ll work something out.  We can talk it over in the boat.

It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.

By Bret Amundson

www.mnsportingjournal.com