So suddenly I find myself, at age 42, getting married and becoming step-father to this beautiful 4 year old girl. While the concept of parenthood had been the farthest thing on my mind for most of my life, I suddenly found myself wanting to introduce her to so much that is wonderful…music, art, culture, volunteerism, and more.

Then I began looking around the city and realizing that my life going to the bars and restaurants would have to change. That the kinds of plays and concerts I attend won't work for a 4 year old.  It was time to take a different look at our town…from a pre-schooler's point of view.

Growing up north of Cincinnati, coming to the big city was always a big deal. I remember driving down 75 and being awed by the tall buildings, the density of people and places, going the first time into Riverfront Stadium and seeing the greenest plastic I had ever seen. To this day, I catch myself occasionally wondering how it all has become so mundane to me. I rarely notice the buildings, even driving through the Cut in the Hill on a sunny day. It's just where I go to work and to look for entertainment.

Shortly after our wedding, I had the chance for a one-on-one date with my new step-daughter. Because of my association with the arts community, I knew about the Lollipop Concerts by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. I got about the last two tickets available for that concert (who knew there were so many kids around and so many parents who took them to concerts?) so we were in the last row of the gallery. She had never been in such a bustling place…huge lobby, lots of noise (because there were lots of kids), the Youth Symphony out in the lobby with instruments for the kids to touch and play. Then we walked in and I showed her the chandelier. I'd seen it plenty of times, and yes it is lovely…but the look on her face was completely enthralled by the size and the shimmer of it. I had never really looked at it that way.

Our next outing was to a Cincinnati Children's Theatre production at the Taft Theater. While the physical building doesn't inspire the awe that Music Hall does, the lights, music, costumes and acting presented by Cincinnati Children's Theatre certainly inspired wide eyes, laughing and singing, and an enjoyable conversation after the show about our favorite parts.

Suddenly I found myself in a world of Madcap Puppets, Linton Chamber's Peanut Butter & Jam, Behringer Crawford and Cincinnati Museum Center holiday train exhibits. This town is full of amazing, intelligent, creative, interactive and (sneakily) educational opportunities that are NOT offensive to adults! Ever see the Zoo through a child's eyes? Check it out…you learn a lot about the animals that you never knew (okay, perhaps not completely factual…but entertaining nonetheless!) Oh, and the rotunda of Union Terminal, where you can stand on opposite sides and hear each other talk…never ending fascination.

Of course, we wanted to expand her horizons, and this is where the free summer concerts and outstanding local music comes in handy. We couldn't take her to see our friends The Menus at the Blue Note, but on stage at Sawyer Point is a great time for all of us. The Mystics at Newport on the Levee, or the Northern Kentucky Brotherhood Singers in concert at The Carnegie. Sure, I know she'll eventually go ga-ga for the Jonas Brothers or some other packaged act, but it won't be before we expose her to plenty of other musical genres and performers.

I enjoy being able to expose her to so much in our area. She's also been to the Reds, Freedom and Swarm games…we go every year to Summerfair (where she takes her saved allowance to buy some art)…she's been to concerts at Boone Woods Park as well as The Lion King and Stomp at the Aronoff…and of course, the Newport Aquarium, King's Island and Coney Island. I hope she sees this area as a great place to live, with plenty to do and a wealth of diversity. I hope she'll embrace Cincinnati as an interesting, challenging and engaging community.

Mostly, I want her to succeed and prosper…and take very good care of me in my golden years!

Kevin Reynolds
SoapBlog 2 - why public radio matters

A not-so rhetorical question….does the growth, or possible explosion, of one type of media, automatically mean the end of another type of media?

There are examples of that happening to be sure…cassettes killed 8-tracks; CD's temporarily killed vinyl (though it's fighting its way back); VHS killed Beta.

So with the advent of internet, iPods, satellite and other music and radio sources, what about the over-the-air radio stations, and more specifically, what about public radio stations?

The fact of the matter is that, here in Cincinnati, the two public radio stations I work for – Classical 90.9 WGUC and 91.7 WVXU – are doing very well in terms of number of listeners and memberships, and corporate underwriting is strong and seems to be on an uphill slope. All that bodes well for public radio and, more importantly, for our listeners.

Public radio is a unique institution. Remaining commercial free and often carrying content (classical or Americana music, round the clock news, jazz, talk with no pomposity or screaming) that commercial stations seem to have no real interest in airing. Public radio also fills the niche with community stations, often airing a different format of music or talk each and every hour, while the homogenization of commercial stations continues to take hold.

In global terms, the number of people relying solely on some other form of radio or music provider is still relatively small. Radio remains the primary source of music, news and information in the car, and often during times of crises (take the recent power outage for instance…battery operated or crank radios were in high use all over the region.)

Public radio audiences have become more reliant upon the news we provide because it is not influenced by sponsors or the general political leanings of the station's ownership. We are not formatted by consultants or media executives who have never been in Cincinnati.

Our classical music station is one of the last dozen or so of its type left in this country, but even a market the size of Cincinnati supports it because it is another cultural icon that they don't want to lose.

As for news and information, where else on the dial will you hear intelligent, engaging, provocative programs like "This American Life," "A Prairie Home Companion," "Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me," "The Diane Rehm Show," and so many others? It's not just the same 40 songs in heavy rotation, or loud battles between hosts and guests, or a block of 10 commercials each and every hour. Public radio respects the intellect, offers an alternative, and asks those who listen to us to help fund us. What a concept!

And as technology grows, so does public radio. With HD Radio technology, did you know we can split our signal and add new formats? In order to meet the desires of our listeners, we now offer a 24 hour jazz programming service on one of our HD signals, and the other is the simulcast of the award-winning internet station woxy.com. We believe these are formats completely ignored in this market, and since we have the technical capabilities and financial support from our listeners to provide them, we do.

There's no doubt that our listeners feel a personal stake in our operations because their donations fund over half of our annual operating budget. They know we are local…our stations are across the street from the back of Music Hall and we are easily reachable by phone or e-mail…we are here, not sitting somewhere in Texas deciding what to play here. We spotlight local arts and cultural organizations, spend three hours each weekend doing stories of local interest to go along with the national stories that we air. We provide local businesses a way to reach a very strong demographical audience with their message.

As you pop in your ear buds and listen to your iPod, consider using iTunes to download some of public radio's best, and realize what else is out there. If you aren't a listener, try us for what we can bring to your life…information, comfort, news, entertainment. Then dial us up in your car and enjoy radio with character and emotion.

SoapBlog 1 - Survivor
Kevin Reynolds

At this moment, I am a cancer survivor. I have been free of cancer (and both my kidneys) for a year and a half. I'm always happy to be able to say that, but also realistic in the knowledge that my status could change at any time. That's a truth that will keep you on your toes.

My story isn't much different from many others…cancer is rarely an anticipated outcome of a doctor's visit or medical test. When you're told, the words hang heavy in the air, your heart and soul constantly waiting for a "but…," or a "however…" followed by a "kidding" or "not you." That doesn't really happen. If they say it, they mean it. The dominoes then begin to fall.

Life…death…family…friends…hospitals…jobs…treatments…existence…pain...

The list is lengthy…it flies through your head like a hummingbird on crack. Fear grips you and you find it hard to breathe.  You grab the one you love and hug, or you look at one another in total disbelief. You cry. You cry a lot.

Then you begin to figure things out. You and the doctor develop a plan. You start looking at a calendar, figuring out how to make this new reality fit into your existing reality. Then comes the really uncomfortable part…telling people.

I never knew the right way to tell people I had cancer. You can tap dance around it for awhile, but eventually it will come out. When you say it straight out, it's like slapping people you care about with an icy cold bath…knees buckle, jaws drop, words fade into stutters. Suddenly you, the patient, have to become the comforter to the listener..."it's okay…I have a great doctor…we have an aggressive plan…I'm going to fight this," anything to ease the shock.

Some of the hardest conversations took place with my employer and co-workers at Cincinnati Public Radio. It was a scant two years after I joined the stations that I received my diagnosis. I was heartbroken…this is my dream job and I knew I would have to be gone for at least 6 months, maybe longer. How do I tell them? How do I tell my co-workers, knowing many of them will have to pick up my duties while I'm gone? Will I be treated differently? What about the events I was in the middle of planning? How easily replaceable am I?

That last question is one that hurts, because it transcends just the job. How replaceable am I as a husband, friend, parent, and employee? To maintain some sanity, you have to believe that your family will stand by you, support you, and care for you. But you feel incredibly vulnerable when it comes to your job.

I admit that I was glad at this point that I was not working in a cut-throat corporate setting. I've been working for non-profit organizations for over 20 years and one reason, among many, is because the work environment is more to my liking. I prefer working for a greater good and that usually involves working with others with my same sensibilities.

When I returned to work after receiving my cancer diagnosis, I was in a fog. But I knew that I had to tell people because, in time, it was gong to come out. I wanted to do it my way. I met with our general manager and my immediate boss to explain the situation. They deserved to know first and to help me determine the best course of action. At no point did either of them ask me anything about the job or my upcoming events. Not once. Every question was about me, what was going to happen, how my family was doing, and repeatedly wondering what they could do. I felt a significant weight lifting from me.

I then had to tell the other folks in my department. Having held it together when telling my bosses, I wasn't so lucky with my co-workers. I felt the sadness creeping up my throat and it was hard to get the words out. I tried to stay matter of fact, focused, almost keeping it as if I was talking about someone else. I'm not sure it worked, but I got it out. Words of encouragement, support, and concern flowed…including offers to learn what I was working on so they could fill in.

There are a million stressors when you are diagnosed with a chronic illness. Finances, insurance, telling your child, telling your parents, travel details, medicines, keeping up the house and the yard, trying to remain an active partner in your marriage…everything is magnified, everything is not as it was. But knowing that your employer has your back…is more concerned about you than about the job…that your co-workers will happily pick up the slack…removes about half of those stressors. I can't imagine going into my surgeries concerned about my future employment. I had to worry about my future existence, and Cincinnati Public Radio allowed me to do that.

During my time off, I received regular cards, emails, calls, and gifts from the people at the stations. As soon as I was able, I visited the office to say hello, see what was going on, clear out any mail, and to feel like I would be useful again. I was out seven months, but was allowed to come back part-time while I built up my stamina. I had long talks with my boss about my schedule now that I was on home hemo dialysis. I planned on doing treatments in the evening after work, but there would be some days I'd have to go in the morning. I would have monthly doctor, counseling and clinic appointments. There would be occasional screenings for any reoccurrence of the cancer. I promised that I would keep up with my responsibilities despite these disruptions, and during the last year and a half, I have checked with my boss to make sure how we were going worked for her. She has assured me that all is well. Again, more stressors relieved.

Surviving a chronic or critical illness requires so much more than just good medicine and good doctors. It's a mental, spiritual and physical journey that is never smooth…a true roller coaster of emotions. My ride was made much smoother with the never-ending support of my employer. I thank Rich Eiswerth, Chris Phelps and everyone at Cincinnati Public Radio for being such an integral part of my healing, and for allowing me to return to a job I truly love.