All the pretty toys so shiny

I had other stuff to do on Friday, but something snapped.

For a long time I identified myself as a “journalist, wordsmith and podcaster,” but somewhere over the past five years I stopped saying that last word. 

After all, the last segment of Uncle Warren’s 78 revolutions per minute was sent into the ether more than five years ago now. How dare I call myself a podcaster?

OK, if you sniff around the interwebs, you can still find The Imaginary Bomb, Wildflower Man, 80 episodes of Uncl...