<h1>BOB MILLER</h1> <p><strong>I’m often mistaken for Brad Pitt. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant Kelsey Grammer.</strong></p> <p><strong>My paychecks have been coming from radio since long before we ever heard the word ‘embedded’ from foreign correspondents. I remember Program Directors who actually used to tell the air personalities to smile into the mic. Oh, wait…some still do. I also remember being allowed to smoke in the studio and dropping brownie crumbs all over the console was a job requirement. Engineers loved me for that.</strong></p> <p><strong>I’m from a little town in the Midwest called Chicago, so I adore my lovable, if not amusing Cubbies. I’m also passionate about my five felines and beer. Oh, I’m sorry, my wife, Michele, too. Sorry, sweetheart.</strong></p> <p><strong>I’m a Navy veteran who resisted the urge to get a tattoo of an anchor on my bicep, opting instead for a mop on my buttocks. Yes, alcohol was involved.</strong></p> <p><strong>If you want to butter me up for concert tickets or a car wash, baked mac and cheese is the key to my heart. If you want to annoy me, talk to me at length about your kids’ homework or keep referring to yourself in the 3 rd person. Either one.</strong></p> <p><strong>I allow politicians to put campaign signs on my front yard with the understanding they must come down thirty minutes after the polls close or the meter’s running!</strong></p> <p><strong>If I wasn’t doing this for a living, I would probably have been a veterinarian, but that would have required actually going to school, so…..</strong></p> <p><strong>A world- class napper, I can cuddle up with a cat at anytime of the day and I’m good for an hour.</strong></p> <p><strong>One more thing: When you hear <em>Dead Skunk in The Middle of the Road </em>on the radio, you’ll know your listening to me on 92.9 WBPM. Hey, stop that. Don’t make fun of my wedding song!</strong></p>