By Chris Olsen
I spotted him in the crowd at the Minnesota State Fair. And it was no small crowd. There was a record attendance that year. Over a million people had already passed through the turnstiles and it was only halfway through its 12-day end-of-summer run.
I saw his eyes first in a sea of thousands of unfamiliar sweaty faces. They were like large marbles the color of root beer, magnified to nearly twice their size by his glasses and illuminated in the August sun. He was my first real boss in radio, before the hip-hop station, at a rock station where I worked in my 20s—I’ll call him Mike. There had been a revolving door of bosses before him, but they never lasted. He was my boss for five years or maybe more. This was the first time I’d seen him since I was laid off from that job two years earlier. Read more