As many of you saw today, Bobby lost his mind just for a little bit in show today. Everything’s fine now and tonight we’ve got the Outta Nashville show and I’m definitely not holding any resentment and am completely calm. Soooo with that being said, I will see you all later tonight!

National Beverage Day is one of those holidays that feels like somebody ran out of ideas and looked at a drink menu for inspiration. But if we’re being honest, it’s not the worst idea.

Because while water may be essential for survival, nobody’s ever felt excitement over a bottle of it. Water is responsibility. Water is obligation. Soda, on the other hand, is commitment to chaos.

And when it comes to the soda hierarchy, two names always rise to the top: Dr Pepper and cherry cola.

Dr Pepper is the mad scientist of soft drinks—23 flavors somehow blended into one drink that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. Cherry cola is the dependable classic: smooth, simple, and strong enough to carry its own identity without overcomplicating things.

Meanwhile, there’s an entire corner of the beverage world trying to convince people that kombucha and sparkling vegetable water are enjoyable experiences. That’s a bold strategy.

At the end of the day, beverage loyalty is serious business. Some people have teams. Some have favorite bands. Others have a cold Dr Pepper waiting in the fridge, and honestly, that might be the healthiest commitment of all.

On this day in 2020, rock lost Brian Howe at age 66 following cardiac arrest. For casual listeners, his name may not always be the first to come up in conversations about Bad Company, but for fans, his place in the band’s history is undeniable.

Taking over lead vocals after Paul Rodgers was never going to be an easy task. Rodgers was already one of rock’s most respected voices, and stepping into that spotlight meant carrying the weight of expectations from fans who weren’t exactly eager for change.

But Howe didn’t just survive that challenge—he carved out his own era with the band, bringing a sharper, melodic edge while still keeping the grit intact. His time with Bad Company proved that being “the replacement” doesn’t mean being second best.

Before that chapter, Howe’s career got its first major push when Ted Nugent recruited him for the Penetrator album and world tour in 1983, throwing him into the deep end of rock and roll from the start.

Brian Howe may not always get the headline treatment, but his voice and his contribution to rock history still carry weight. And that’s the kind of legacy that sticks.

In a moment that historians will one day rank alongside the moon landing and the invention of sliced bread, I, Bobby D, of sound mind (debatable at best), did officially declare on today’s show that I was wrong… and my producer was right.

Go ahead and mark the calendar. Frame it. Put it in a museum. Because this kind of event doesn’t happen often, and when it does, witnesses should probably sign affidavits.

Here’s what happened: I made an executive decision on a song pick today. A simple choice. A harmless choice. Or so I thought. But apparently in the world of radio, there is no such thing as “just a song.” Songs have consequences. Songs have emotional fallout. Songs start debates, summon opinions, and apparently can trigger a full-scale internal uprising faster than a bad Wi-Fi signal.

And mine? Oh, mine started something.

What started as “hey, this fits the vibe” turned into side-eyes from the producer, messages flying behind the scenes, and enough tension in the room to power a small city. It was less “programming choice” and more “accidental declaration of war.”

Now, in my defense, I stand by the spirit of the choice. The execution? That’s where things went sideways. Sometimes you swing for the fences and accidentally hit the producer in the forehead with the bat. Metaphorically.

So yes, today I admitted I was wrong. The producer was right. Those words have now been spoken into existence, and I expect they’ll be replayed against me for years like a greatest hits album I never wanted to record.

But let the record show this: being wrong once does not establish a pattern. It establishes an anomaly. A glitch in the matrix. A cosmic hiccup.

And tomorrow? I reserve the right to be absolutely, confidently wrong all over again. That’s rock radio, baby. Chaos included.

-Bobby D (definitely not written with the producer standing behind me)