I was just busy. On Monday, the 16th of October, we celebrate the 7th time around the sun since Jean Shepherd died.

Anyone who doesn’t know Jean, you need only to rent a copy of The Christmas Story. That’s him.

For anyone old enough to remember his broadcasts, consider yourself very lucky.

For myself, I had a chace to meet him, shake his hand, thank him, as a resident of Northwest Indiana, for allowing us to laugh at ourselves. His eyes twinkled and he smiled, and said “thank you”. I don’t think he ever came back after that, which was in, I believe, 87.

I shopped at the Minas’ store where his mom shopped. I shopped in the Goldblatts (Higbees, in the Christmas Story) when I was of such an age. When I took my swipe at the broadcasting business, I sat at the same microphone as Jean Shepherd. Literally, I’m told, (though I have no provenance of this) because the owner, julian Colby, was a cheap bastard. Of that I don’t have any personal experience- but jean left a cold spot when he passed. He was a local Ham, and my local Ham club held what is called a “silent key” cerimony for him.

We miss you, Jean. Storytellers of your ilk are few and far between.