YouTube review: Company Man channel

The Can't Turn it Off producer, Thomas, is co-host of more than one podcast on the Jersey Studios network. On a recent episode of the Brain Invaders podcast, he recommended a YouTube channel called Company Man.

He had recommended it to me a while ago, and I had failed to sample its offerings at the time. I finally made a point to do so not so long ago. 

The channel's description: "Videos on interesting topics in business and marketing of well known companies."

Sounds rather dull, doesn't it? 

Well, it's not, and its creator or creators have had no problem turning out videos, most in the 10- to 12-minute range, about interesting topics. 

Some of the videos explore simple questions, such as why there are two different names for Carl's Jr. and Hardee's restaurants, when they're essentially the same restaurant.

Other videos examine why Costco is so successful, or Gatorade has such a huge presence in the sports drink market. 

Conversely, there are videos examining why ESPN and Kmart have declined, or why iHeartMedia and Toys R Us have filed bankruptcy. 

Some of the answers may seem obvious, but there are not-so-obvious reasons, as well, and Company Man attempts to address those. 

I sampled a handful of videos in a week, and here are my impressions, in no particular order. 

Costco: The examination of its success pointed out obvious things, yet they were things I didn't really consider about its business model. While Costco seems to be a flourishing company that is doing very well, the video shows how its business volume compares to other major companies, which helped me better appreciate how successful it is in the U.S. retail landscape. 

I'm no business expert, so I can't speak to how definitive the overview is, but I was skeptical about the analysis of its business model, and how important the annual membership fee is to the overall financial success of the company. 

Interesting tidbits, but overall an underwhelming video.

Toys R Us: An interesting analysis of how the company wound up in bankruptcy and why it's not simply Amazon's fault. I learned a few things about the once might toy retailer, mostly because I have never cared, for even a minute, about the company or its history. 

The mystery gimmick: This video wasn't what I expected. Instead of exploring the origin and growth of the mystery bag or box that fans of Disney, Star Wars or Marvel buy, with limited to no knowledge of what they'll receive inside, the video was about how and why companies produce mystery flavored products, such as the mystery flavor of Dum Dum suckers. There was a bit of interesting trivia behind the production of mystery flavored Dum Dums, but overall this wasn't a particularly informative video, or particularly entertaining.

MTV: This was the first video I watched, as I was curious to hear his explanation of how the cable network evolved from a music video showcase to another cable channel full of "reality" programming and scripted drama. 

The video suggests MTV wouldn't have survived as a video channel in this day and age of YouTube and other streaming platforms, and I don't disagree. I don't think MTV is ever praised for being a visionary network that was years ahead of the technological curve, but Company Man leads you to think that.

The video touches on early attempts at programming outside of continuous video play, but does a mediocre job of explaining the evolution. You would think it took years for MTV to consider programmed blocks, but the truth is the network knew the value of that in its earliest years. I'm no expert on MTV, but I do know that within a few years of its infancy the channel had programming blocks, just not in the way it does today. For much of the '80s there were daily programs such as "Closet Classics Capsule," "Dial MTV," "Yo, MTV Raps" and "Headbangers Ball." All of these were video shows, but they were either weekday or weekend programs that focused on a targeted genre.

I suspect MTV saw the value of programmed blocks early on. 

Eventually the game show "Remote Control" and the cartoon "Beavis and Butt-Head" were added. They appealed to fans of music, and became appointment television on the MTV schedule. The '90s would bring about non-music programming, such as the dating game show "Singled Out" and the reality show "Real World," and it wasn't long before videos were an afterthought. 

MTV didn't abandon videos in the '90s. "Total Request Live," often known as TRL, became a live, interactive daily request show that was a major late afternoon draw for young music fans, much like the less dynamic "Dial MTV" had been in the '80s.

I'm no TV expert, but I do know it's easier to sell advertising for big bucks when you have a proven commodity that will draw a proven audience on a recurring basis. If I can turn on MTV and watch music videos any time, day or night, there's no reason I need to tune it at 4 p.m. weekdays or 11 p.m. on Saturday. But if I know I can see all the latest, most popular videos at 4 p.m. each weekday afternoon, or can rock out at 11 p.m. on Saturday nights, I'll make a point to be in front of my TV. And that helps MTV sell advertising. 

Again, I'm no expert, but the ability to draw targeted audiences as specific times of the week is a benefit when it comes to selling commercials, and I've always been under the impression that MTV's shift to programs over continuous videos was driven by maximizing its commercial revenue and not due to its foresight into the evolution of how we consume entertainment. 

But Company Man never mentions this. We're left with the impression that MTV was simply ahead of the curve, as if it saw the writing on the wall. I doubt that, but even if the network could predict the future, I believe Company Man leaves out a major influence in MTV's evolution. 

Major fail. 

New Coke: I really enjoyed this video. If you lived through the '80s, unlike my producer, you remember this curious experiment with Coca-Cola in 1985. This chapter in Coke's history hasn't been forgotten, but it really doesn't come up a lot in pop culture conversations, although I suspect it has been a gag in '80s-based movies and television programs more often than I realize. 

I learned a few things about the how and why of Coke's reinvention that I had never heard, and I enjoyed this video a lot. 

Overall I enjoy this channel, I just wouldn't turn to these videos as the definitive word on any of its subjects, no matter how slick and authoritative the presentation is. And that's because, like my own podcast, plenty of things are presented as fact, without a lot of substantiation. 

I try to reference the online sources I look to when I research background and details on the topics of my podcast, but some of my sources are not indisputable, and I don't mention where I gathered every last factoid. 

Company Man doesn't provide much attribution for its information. That's not to say that it's wrong. I have no reason to assume it is, but thus far I've found little attribution, and that doesn't reassure me that every fact and figure cited is correct. As a matter of fact, financial data of bankrupt companies are shown to illustrate points, and the information is probably accurately presented, but I have no idea. I don't have a clue if the host is an expert who knows what he's talking about or making it up as he goes along, and if the sources of his facts and figures are reliable. 

Regardless, Company Man is doing something right. The channel is less than a year old, has nearly 250,000 subscribers and four videos with more than 1 million views. In the crowded world of YouTube, that's impressive. 

Overall I'm entertained and I'll continue to peruse videos with topics that interest me. I won't accept the information within them as gospel, but if the subject piques my interest, perhaps I'll be inspired to do my own follow-up research.

If not, then I'll hope that at minimum I've been the benefactor of great storytelling. And that's something I can really appreciate. 

Learn more about the Weinlicks

Here are links for items mentioned during episode 20 of Can’t Turn it Off.

I talked by phone with the Weinlicks for about 90 minutes, two nights prior to their vow renewal at Mall of America. And I was there to take photographs on that Friday morning last summer. The story I wrote about their marriage, and life afterward, can be found at the following link: tr.im/weinlicks

Christy Hallas, my guest during episode 20, noted that there’s a Caring Bridge blog dedicated to David. You need to be registered/logged into the site in order to read it, but that’s easy to do. tr.im/dweinlick

A GoFundMe campaign has been helping the Weinlicks make ends meet during David’s bout with cancer. tr.im/weinlick

Thanks to a Bloomington, Minnesota, man I'm a fan of Bill Mantlo

If you have listened to episode 18 of Can't Turn it Off, you know the basic connection between me and Bill Mantlo.

If you don't know, you will in a minute.

And if you don't know who Bill is, Google his name and read an article about him, or listen to my crude attempt to encapsulate his life in the Bill Mantlo episode of my podcast.

When I was contemplating the premise of the podcast more than a year ago, I had no idea who Bill is. The fact that I spent a recent episode sharing the story of his remarkable life is nothing short of serendipity.

I found Bill through his connection to a man I met in the fall of 2016. (Their connection may be indirect, but the two men may have met once upon a time.)

As a newspaper reporter covering Bloomington, Minnesota, I would up writing a story about Ky Michaelson. Known by many as "The Rocketman," Ky is a charismatic, colorful character who has accomplished incredible feats, from setting all sorts of speed records with his rocket-powered contraptions to stunt work in Hollywood films. His role in the recreation of Evel Knievel's failed jump over Snake River Canyon, more than four decades after Knievel tried, connected me to Ky. (The 2016 jump was successful, by the way.)

After meeting Ky and his son Buddy, I wrote a story about their participation in the stunt. (Neither of them flew the rocket, "Evel Spirit," over the canyon.) Ky has a website detailing his career, as well as a YouTube channel dedicated to an odd assortment of clips, including some of his many television appearances. I watched some of those clips, including one simply titled "Human Fly."

I was fascinated by the story of a 1970s daredevil whose identity was intended to be a secret. I soon learned through my research the reason why a 1970s television interview of Human Fly was on Ky's YouTube channel. Ky had been involved in the building of a rocket-powered motorcycle for one of Human Fly's stunts nearly four decades earlier. (It has now been a full four decades since that infamous stunt.)

Through my research I also learned that a deal had been brokered between Human Fly's representatives and Marvel Comics to produce a comic book series about the daredevil. As a former Marvel Comics collector, that series came before my time, and I'm not sure I had ever heard of it. But it was another interesting layer to Human Fly's story, which had fascinated me enough to make it the subject of episode 2 of my podcast.

My fascination with Human Fly could have easily ended following the completion of episode 2. But for some reason I was compelled to scour eBay listings to see what comics were available. I found an auction for a handful of well-read issues and bought them, including a copy of issue No. 1. I read issue No. 1, and in it I read a page explaining the premise of the comic, written by Bill, who happened to be not only the writer of the book, but the brains behind the character's origin in the world of Marvel Comics.

I didn't know Bill's name. While I've known a variety of names from the world of comic book publishing, Bill wasn't among them. I was curious as to what ever happened to the guy who penned the tales of a comic book character I was discovering about 40 years after the comic was first published, and that's when I started to learn the amazing tales from Bill's life.

I soon bought a copy of "Mantlo: A Life in Comics" and read it last summer during a vacation. I didn't have to read the book to know that Bill's story was far too good to pass up. I knew that when season 2 of Can't Turn it Off launched, Bill would be the subject of an episode. Since Human Fly was the second subject during season 1, it seemed appropriate that Bill was the second subject of season 2.

I hope my sharing of Bill's story will bring another ounce of appreciation to Bill's contributions to the comic book industry.

While I don't plan on collecting the complete written works of his career, I will finish assembling a 19-issue run of Human Fly comics this spring, one way or another. And I plan to uncover a few of Bill's books from my disregarded, disorganized comic book collection of yesteryear. I know I have a few of his stories in my collection. I have unearthed my copy of Spectacular Spider-Man 64, featuring Cloak and Dagger's first appearance, and I know I have the Cloak and Dagger mini-series Bill wrote. (Bill was the creator of Cloak and Dagger, by the way.)

I'm not Bill's biggest fan, and I'm far from knowledgeable about the man's career, but I have definitely become a fan, and I look forward to unearthing stories from his incredible career in the years to come.

And I have Ky Michaelson to thank for indirectly introducing me to him.

The Brain Invaders love Stranger Things more than I do

Episode 123 of the Brain Invaders podcast (part of the Jersey Studios network, which is the home of Can't Turn it Off) discussed season 2 of Stranger Things. As an executive producer of that podcast, here is my critique of the nine-episode season. Yes, I will be discussing plot points of season 2.

I like the show. I do. There are many elements that are done well. But there’s plenty I don’t like about it, and therefore I cannot heap endless praise upon the show.

I was intrigued by the very opening sequence of the season. It appeared to have nothing to do with anything we saw in season 1. And then we realize that the sequence is introducing us to Eight. Given that we’ve spent a season following the adventures of a psychokinetic girl named Eleven, it should have been natural for viewers to assume, and wonder, about the 10 who preceded her. But I never considered there were others out there. Great opening sequence.

We had already learned that the police chief, Hopper, lost a daughter to cancer, and his life was a mess because of it. The idea that he would provide shelter and care for Eleven wasn’t a stretch. We knew he was attempting to help her out at the conclusion of season 1, and the first episodes of season 2 provided flashbacks regarding their relationship. But I missed the explanation of how Hopper knew that Eleven was wandering alone in the woods. Was it just a hunch? How did he know to leave Eggos hidden in the woods for her?

Given that those associated with the Hawkins Laboratory had such great technology and governmental resources, how did Hopper’s hiding of Eleven in an old family cabin go undetected? Even if nobody at the lab suspected Eleven was alive, we would learn that government agents were tapping phones of residents in Hawkins, and therefore had the city under some sort of surveillance. Yet none of them dared to investigate why the police chief was running out to his cabin nightly, or buying Eggos periodically? He wasn’t nearly stealthy enough to avoid detection by government agents, and since they were trying to ensure the town’s secret remained a secret to the rest of the world, they had to be watching the skeptical police chief.

I know, it’s sci-fi, by definition I need to suspend disbelief. Stranger Things really tests my limits of suspension.

The tension between Eleven and Hopper grows, and it was well done. The struggles of her young friends, however, left something to be desired.

While the introduction of tomboy Max provides friction between Dustin and Lucas, who are vying for her attention/affection, it doesn’t add anything to the show. If there was a benefit to Max befriending the boys, it was that her presence illustrated how difficult it was for people to live with the town’s secret. The boys know they’re supposed to keep quiet about the events of season 1, but it’s hard when Max wonders why Will is called “Zombie Boy” by classmates. The challenge of keeping the secret intensifies, and it’s quite plausible that one of them would ultimately spill the town’s secrets. In this case it’s Lucas, and it’s a great twist when he finishes, and Max doubts his story completely.

Max also causes friction between the boys because Mike doesn’t like her, and doesn’t want her in their group. I never picked up on why that was specifically, but assume it’s simply because she doesn’t fit in with their interests.

As for Max and her stepbrother Billy, their presence seemed rather pointless. Billy seems to be the stereotypical ‘80s high school “freak,” and for much of the season we don’t know why Billy and the stepsister he hates wound up moving from California to Hawkins. I was expecting a greater purpose… some sort of connection between their parents and the Hawkins Laboratory, but we got nothing. All we learn is that Billy’s dad is a hard ass who doesn’t like his son’s disrespectful ways.

The fact that the new freak smokes and happens to be a good basketball player who antagonizes Steve added nothing to the show.

Steve’s character was a series regular in season 2, as opposed to a recurring character in season 1. And that did nothing for the show. Steve awkwardly befriends Dustin when his relationship with Nancy fizzles, and his presence in the latter half of season 2 is rather silly. I think the struggle Nancy and Steve had with keeping the secret of Nancy’s deceased friend Barb was a pretty good storyline. If you lived in a city that went through the supernatural hell that Hawkins did, it can’t be easy to keep all of that a secret, especially when others are in the dark about what was behind the disappearance of Will and Barb. But the split between Nancy and Steve leaves Steve with nothing meaningful to do, so he winds up as a babysitter to the youngsters.

As I noted, Billy and Max added nothing significant to the show. Ditto for Dustin’s mother and Lucas’ family. Sure, they have parents, but why introduce them when they serve no meaningful purpose. So Lucas has an obnoxious younger sister. Big deal.

I admire the fact that some of the Netflix shows I’ve watched have assembled huge casts. Stranger Things has plenty of recurring characters, and I wouldn’t argue that each of them needs to play a significant part in the story, but the aforementioned characters were frivolous.

And yet other characters seemed to disappear. We barely saw Mike and Nancy’s parents, and their appearances were typically insignificant, unlike in season 1. And perhaps I blinked, but Mike and Nancy have a younger sister. Did we see her in season 2? What about the bullies who taunted the boys at school in season 1? Did we see them? How about Steve’s friends. And why was the police department’s staff nowhere to be found in the second half of season 2? They weren’t significant, but why bring them back, only to leave them out of the latter half of season 2? It seems like they swapped out minor and insignificant characters from season 1 for new insignificant characters in season 2.

We got a new chief antagonist at Hawkins Laboratory. He may have been known as Dr. Owens, but I can’t look at him and think of him as anybody other than Paul Reiser. I like Reiser, he plays every part well. But quit distracting me with the fact that the new doc is Paul Reiser. Cast a character actor I couldn’t name if my life depended upon it.

I liked the idea that Reiser’s character was brought in to clean up the mess, and that he had compassion for Will. Another stone cold, company man would have been annoying. Reiser nailed the part. It’s too bad I couldn’t get past the fact it was Paul Reiser!

The best new character? Probably Bob, the new boyfriend of Joyce. He was a simple guy, living in a simple time, in a modest Indiana town. Joyce tried to move on with her life, and Bob was the guy who was unflappable, no matter how bizarre the circumstances were. While we should be disappointed that he was killed, I call it karma. He convinced Will to face the demon rather than run from it, which nearly killed Will and brought catastrophe to Hawkins, again. Arguably it was inevitable, but we can blame it on Bob, and therefore we can’t feel bad about him biting the dust.

Who am I missing? I suppose Jonathan, the socially inept older brother of Will who finds himself aligned with Nancy yet again. He’s fine, although the sexual tension between him and Nancy didn’t entertain me. Leave the sexual tension to General Hospital.

As for the story, it left a lot to be desired.

We knew that Will was still connected to the “Upside-Down,” and could predict that his connection to it would manifest itself in season 2.

I didn’t remember a lot of the hows and whys of the “Demogorgon,” but my basic explanation for what happens on Stranger Things is that they make it up as they go along. Last season’s existence of the Demogorgon was explained, more or less, but I’m still unclear how its defeat opened up an underworld network that is inhabited by “Demodogs” or why a “Shadow Monster” is now stalking Will. I get it, when you write sci-fi you can make up any set of rules you want, but nothing these other-world creatures do makes any sense, in season 1 or season 2. And that’s my biggest gripe. There’s no logic to what happens, and seemingly no attempt at logic. So for everything they do well, from the ‘80s look and feel of the show to the homages to ‘80s film and television – most of which is lost upon me – they really blow it with the storytelling.

And the lack of logic seems not to be a concern to most of the characters. There’s an inexplicable presence infecting pumpkins in Hawkins. Will is somehow able to create an elaborate map of the underworld beneath Hawkins, and Bob easily figures out what Will has created since Will is unable to explain what the hell he was doing. Hopper decides to spend an entire day digging an elaborate hole, by himself, and when he reaches the underworld after hours of digging, he hops right in, with seemingly no concern for the fact nobody knows he’s there, and seemingly no plan to get out should he somehow survive in the town’s creepy underbelly.

And when Joyce and Bob show up, they jump right in, as if there’s no chance they’ll die in some creepy underworld that is somehow poisoning Joyce’s son. Of course they do.

And why did a tiny, baby Demodog show up in Dustin’s garbage can? Of all the places, it picks Dustin’s garbage can, randomly? And for what, to cause friction between the boys and their tomboy friend?

I guess for me there are just too many wild, outrageous elements in play. Perhaps that’s why I don’t love the show. Create a show about a psychokinetic girl and an underworld demon that escapes to wreak havoc on a sleepy Indiana town. But the need to create some elaborate, multi-layered world that randomly dispenses new elements and challenges for the main characters does little for me. As the old saying goes, less is more.

As for the story of Eleven, that’s perhaps the best part. She, and her mother, were products of wacky government science experiments. And we learned more about that in season 2. The idea that Eleven finds a box of news clippings Hopper has collected, reads them and then sets out to find her vegetative mother via hitchhiking leaves a lot to be desired, but their story is far more compelling than that of the Upside-Down, its tunnels, Demogorgon, Demodogs and the Shadow Monster.

By the way, how the hell did Paul Reiser survive a Demodog attack in the laboratory when the creatures made short work of everybody else they encountered?

What did I like the most? “Chapter 7: The Lost Sister.”

Eleven is able to track down her “sister,” who has banded together with other outcasts to exact revenge upon those who have done them wrong. And Eight uses her unique power to aid in their mission. Eleven has a conscience and ultimately chooses not to be a part of their mission, otherwise she’d never be able to save her friends in Hawkins.

But there’s your show. Forget the crap about the Demogorgon and Shadow Monster. Take the story of the Hawkins Laboratory and show how a couple of its escapees with unique power exact revenge, and the struggles they face in doing so, physically and/or emotionally. Yeah, that show has been done, I’m certain, but pair the concept of revenge with the craziness of Stranger Things, and now you’re onto something.

Yes, for all its faults, I like the show. But I can’t love it, and there are clearly more than 13 reasons why. (See what I did there?)

Bonus points: While the homages to '80s horror and sci-fi are often lost upon me, I loved the John Hughes vibe to the school dance at the end of season 2. Kudos!

The Carpetbagger would be proud

I mentioned this briefly in episode 14 of Can't Turn it Off. Here's the full story.

I was on a week long road trip in late July/early August with my friends Dave and Jay. Jay flew in and met up with Dave and I at the start of the trip. We picked him up in Chicago and drove to St. Louis. While in St. Louis we went to a Cardinals baseball game. Dave and I have been traveling to a major league ballpark somewhere around the country most summers since 2012, and Jay wanted to join us for part of our trek.

From St. Louis we headed to Atlanta, where we spent a couple of days and watched a Braves game at their new ballpark. Jay flew back to Boston at that point while Dave and I drove indirectly to Cincinnati.

We left Atlanta and drove 100 miles or so north before calling it a night. We didn't have a specific destination in mind, and we wound up in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Our destination the following day: Louisville, Kentucky, where we would spend the night, take in a minor league baseball game and tour the Louisville Slugger bat factory. We didn't have to hurry to Louisville that day, and it was a little less than a five-hour drive.

Dave was doing the driving on this trip, and he likes to take secondary routes occasionally. I mapped out our options and learned that if we opted for state highways instead of the interstate, the estimated travel time was about 20 minutes longer. Dave was sold, we took the road less traveled through Tennessee and Kentucky that day, and saw interesting things we'd never have encountered had we stuck to the freeway.

As we wound our way through the hills of Tennessee, and eventually Kentucky, we didn't pass through many major cities. It was after noon when we finally reached an area that had more than a local cafe. I don't remember where we were, but there were a handful of chain restaurants to be found in the vicinity. We hadn't eaten much for breakfast that morning, so I was eager to stop. Dave didn't seem that interested in any of the restaurants, so we kept going, much to my disappointment.

About an hour later our indirect route was leading us to the freeway for the last stretch of the drive into Louisville. Once we hit the freeway I knew it wouldn't be long before we found a major exit with multiple dining options. And as predicted, we soon saw signs for several restaurants at an upcoming exit. Dave and I both appreciate Cracker Barrel, and for the second time that week we had lunch there.

Our entire week's itinerary revolved around going to baseball games in four cities, (Cincinnati was our final destination before heading home,) seeing a couple of tourist attractions in a couple of those cities and driving hundreds of miles from one destination to the next. Our trip started and ended in Milwaukee. We drove approximately 1,900 miles during that eight-day round trip. (And I had an extra 600 miles of driving between Minneapolis and Milwaukee to start and end my trip.)

There wasn't time for visiting roadside attractions or tourist traps between our destinations.

And yet we took and extra 20 minutes out of our day following lunch at Cracker Barrel so that I could geek out.

In episode 6 of the Can't Turn it Off podcast I interviewed Jacob the Carpetbagger, a vlogger who visits roadside attractions, abandoned buildings and other places of interest. One of the things we talked about was Jacob's visits to Funtown Mountain, a longtime tourist attraction in Cave City, Kentucky, that has fallen on hard times in recent years. It had a rather bizarre re-opening, and closing, in 2015, and today is boarded up, likely to never receive a new lease on life, at least as visitors have known it for more than four decades.

Funtown Mountain is visible from the freeway as you pass through the Cave City, but I had no way of knowing that. As a matter of fact, I couldn't have recalled that Funtown Mountain was in Cave City. Visiting the remnants of the amusement park/tourist attraction that Jacob has visited a few different times, both during its 2015 rebirth and after the fact, was the furthest thing from my mind during my travels through Kentucky.

And then we exited for lunch at Cracker Barrel that afternoon, an hour or so later than I wanted to be eating lunch. And where was that Cracker Barrel? Cave City, Kentucky. I'll bet my face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning when I first saw the surprise across the freeway as we were heading up the exit ramp.

I told Dave we had to drive over to the other side of the freeway after lunch so I could get a closer look at the remnants of an amusement park I had never heard of a year earlier, yet was so fascinated by thanks to Jacob's videos.

So after lunch we ventured over to the base of the mountain. There's a service road that leads to a parking lot at the base of the mountain, and there wasn't any activity in the vicinity. I'm pretty sure the service road exists solely for access to the amusement park.

Dave parked his car in front of a cable or chain that prevented access to the parking lot, I jumped out of the car, disregarded "no trespassing" signs posted at the entrance and wandered across the parking lot to take a few pictures at the base of the mountain.

I can't say what all existed at the base of the mountain, but there were a few different buildings there. I think the buildings at the base of the mountain were primarily for selling tickets to the amusement park or souvenirs from the park. Most of the attractions were at the top of the mountain, and you rode a chair lift up the mountain to access them. (Clearly the mountaintop attractions could also be reached by some sort of road that wound its way up the mountain, although you wouldn't realize that at the base of the mountain.)

The chairs have all been removed from the chairlift, and the doors and windows of the buildings at the base are boarded up. I didn't walk around the back of the buildings or look for a busted open door that would allow access to the building. I wasn't concerned about getting busted for trespassing, but I didn't want to make Dave wait 30 minutes for me to explore the area. Besides, I doubt there was much of interest to see inside the building at this point. With one exception.

There was one attraction, at the base of the mountain, oddly. There's a haunted house at the base, and Jacob shot video inside of it after Funtown Mountain closed again in 2015. Is it possible that some of the old props and decorations remain in place, still? Some of them were indeed still there when Jacob toured it.

My hunch, there wouldn't have been much to see had I been able to get inside, and I didn't have a flashlight. I'll bet it's rather dark inside that building.

I would love to explore the inside of any of those buildings at the base of the mountain. More than that, I'd love to see what it looks like at the top of the mountain, where buildings recreated the look and feel of the old west, and empty spots indicate where amusement rides use to entertain the masses.

None of that was in the cards that Thursday afternoon in Cave City. I had to settle for snapping a few pictures of the buildings as I trespassed on the grounds of the once-popular tourist attraction.

But I was tickled to see it for myself, even if for only a handful of minutes during a 1,900-mile road trip. And I have the Carpetbagger to thank for making that otherwise uneventful afternoon so memorable. Thanks, Jacob!

Visit Jacob the Carpetbagger's YouTube channel for videos from Funtown Mountain, or check out a great variety of photos of this site during its heyday, and in its sad state of disrepair, by doing an image search for "Funtown Mountain."

This is where you would hop aboard a chair lift for a ride to the top of Funtown Mountain. Why is the first V purple? The sign use to say Relive the Old West.

Looking at the chair lift boarding area from the front, with the chair lift, sans chairs, leading up the mountain. 

Same chair lift building, different angle.

Perhaps calling it a mountain is a bit generous. But Funtown Hill doesn't have the same ring.

Why is the F red? For most of its existence it was known as Guntown Mountain.

I'm not sure if this was a restaurant, a gift shop or something else. Pictures I've seen online suggest it was a "trading post."

I did not look around the back of any of these buildings. I wish I had, who knows what I would have found.

The foliage has grown quite a bit around Funtown during the past couple of years.

During Funtown's attempted revival in 2015, the owner sort of lost his marbles. He reportedly vandalized the property one night while it was open for business, splattering paint in the parking lot and on a building. The paint splatter seen here is presumably his work from two years prior.

Another paint splatter that I would presume was the work of the former owner. Online photos suggest this building was a traditional gift shop that also sold country hams.

And finally, a very short video of the site. I really should have taken a better video of the grounds than this. You can see the Haunted Hotel to the left of the building at the beginning. The red building and the chair lift are to the right when the video ends.

Meet Harold Mintz

Episode 11 of Can't Turn it Off featured a living kidney donor.

Harold Mintz told an amazing story about how he came to the decision to donate a kidney to a woman he didn't know.

What I didn't talk about is how I met Harold.

I don't think I have mentioned it, but by day I'm a newspaper reporter. I've been a reporter for more than 20 years. I cover a little of everything, and sometimes I enjoy it.

I was invited to hear Harold speak to a group of students at a Bloomington, Minnesota, high school. I was told it was a good story, but I wasn't convinced that regurgitating Harold's story was something I wanted to do. I have some flexibility in deciding how I spend my time, and I could have easily declined the invitation. I could have gone about other business that Friday morning and forgotten about Harold forever.

Whatever the reason, I said yes to the invitation and showed up at the high school that Friday morning in February. I listened to him speak for about 45 minutes, and typed like a mad man. There was no audio recording of his presentation to transcribe, I captured everything I could during that one sitting.

Harold was giving three presentations to students during three consecutive hours that morning. So after talking briefly with Harold between classes, I stuck around long enough to take pictures to accompany the article.

I left the school 90 minutes after I arrived, and wound up with one heck of a story. I also realized it was an incredible story that I wanted to share with those who don't read my newspaper. Having recently started my podcast, I knew Harold's story would be a perfect fit for what I'm trying to do.

Fast forward a few months and I'm interviewing Harold by phone, revisiting the story I had written, and presenting it with a bit of a twist to the way he normally presents it. Harold may not have given me the gift of life that night, but I was humbled by the generosity with which he gave of his time.

I hope you enjoyed his story half as much as I did. If you'd like to revisit Harold's story, as written by me, it's available online.

And I'm happy to note that you can now see the documentary about Harold's kidney donation by visiting Harold's Kidney website.

I think about Harold's story periodically. He lives in California. I live in Minnesota. We may never cross paths again, but I will never forget his story, and I'm better off for it. I hope you can say the same.