Carl Stevens' Journal: An Ode To Rick Simonson
There's a sun in the sky and fish in the seas.
And our good friend, Rick, with traffic on the threes.
He's buzzed us out of vehicular hives.
That tractor trailor on Storrow Drive.
That Thanksgiving traffic on the turkey turnpike.
Truth solid and carried through Rick's golden mic.
A Camaro turned over on 128,
If you listened to Rick you did not have to wait.
He'd give you a detour, the right place to be
When the commute was a prison, he set us all free.
When the roads were insane, Rick delivered some sanity
With more intelligence and wit than Sean Hannity.
We listened intently to what Rick had to say,
He put the "express" in the Southeast Expressway.
He gave us fender benders on a baritone platter
With a voice that rose above the daily clatter.
He was a pro. No nonsense, no jive.
Just the simple sad truth about 495.
The tunnels, the brides, crumbling overpasses.
A verbal road map for the commuting masses.
We listened intently to the voice in our cars.
As Rick Simonson warned us of the concrete scars
That lay in our path and impeded our way.
Yes we listened and listened to what Rick had to say.
For many bright years on the radio —
Through the rain and the sleet the drizzle, the snow,
Rick's was the voice that defined the day,
That showed us direction and pointed the way.
And while our commutes will go on untamed,
Without that bright voice, it just won't be the same.
Listen to Carl Stevens' Poem