See Ya' Later...Bye-Bye

He was saying "...bye-bye" long before SNL made the flight attendants' parting words(often buh-by) an entry in our national lexicon. Ron's signature sports' sign-off was, "See ya' later, bye-bye." I heard him say it literally hundreds and hundreds of times over the course of the seven years we worked side-by-side.

It wasn't always side-by-side.

At the beginning, he was my boss.

(The picture is 100% Ron Allen, it captures the man completely; Ron making a point. I stole the photo from Andy Palumbo. Thanks.)

In time, things came and went, including his titles, duties, and authority, meaning that we were more or less co-workers, colleagues I suppose. The company we both worked for was in constant flux during at least the last five years we did work together, it was tough to know the players without a daily scorecard; you'd be management, semi-management, or just plain staff one day, the next day wipe the board clean and rearrange all the pieces all over again.

It was a company big on titles, not so big on money. It was also a company that had lost its way, at least as far as running this radio station was concerned. WARM had been the giant. It was slipping.

I was alternately music director, production director, or just disc jockey. Oh, and for a brief time, I was also a talk-show host.

Then for an even briefer period of time, I was one half of this market's first ever radio "team" which was St. John and Sweeney. Me and St. John, Steve St. John, did afternoon drive at WARM...sometimes. When the then program director was of a mood, we teamed up. When he wasn't, we didn't. It was a mess.

Throughout it all, Ron was there most every day, whatever his capacity, except for when he and Mary Ann vacationed out west. They did that a lot during those years. Ron would put together this spectacular itinerary for visiting national parks all over the inter-mountain west, then they'd fly into Vegas, rent a car, and drive, sightsee, and love life for several weeks straight.

Ron could be very passionate about many things. Some were transient passions, burning themselves cold in a year or less.

It was Chinese food for a while. Ron became intimately familiar with Chinese food, and I mean real and authentic Chinese, not a bowl of canned chop suey, speaking about it at great length when holding court, which is something he did almost daily.

Once Chinese cuisine, and its preparation and cooking(Ron prepped and cooked himself extensively), slipped off of Ron's hit list, he turned his attention to wine.

He knew his stuff. Remember, this was long before the internet, so Ron's grasp of wine was all self-acquired, learned by reading and trying, by trial and error. Hell, by drinking a lot of wine. A few times I asked for recommendations on wine. Ron was right there without hesitation, he nailed it every time, never making a bad suggestion that I can recall. One of the best wines I have ever tasted was a Ron Allen favorite; a vintage Mondavi Napa Valley Chardonnay of perhaps four or five years of age, which way back when ran roughly $17 a bottle.

As has and will be noted countless times, Ron's passion for sports and movies never waned. Both were powerful forces in his life. Encyclopedic is not a misused description of Ron's knowledge of sports, his motion picture grasp the same. Name it, he knew it.

Ron died this past week after a lengthy stretch of declining health. By today's yardstick of life expectancy, he wasn't an old man, Ron was 71.

Another Ron memory just this second occurred to me. Ron's cars.

Ron lived near the station for most of his years there. I do believe it was by design. Not that he loved his job so much, but more because he found making a long haul to and from the job annoying. Since he lived close by, Ron became the expert on choosing the One Hundred Dollar Junker.

Some guy he knew in Old Forge would find Ron a junker that ran fine but would likely croak within several months. Ron would give him a hundred bucks and drive this running wreck until it would no more, at least not without major repair. Then it was back to the junker lot for another. In time, another, then another. I'd say he drove the wheels off these cars but someone else already had before Ron got hold of them.

I have more Ron Allen stories. For now, though, let me sincerely say that we'd all be better off had Ron lived a longer and healthier life.

I liked Ron. My deepest condolences to Mary Ann and Laurie.