A boozy version of "Mama don't let your babies grow up to be DJs..."
You'd think the Big Swingin' Dicks at Entercom Buffalo would bring ol' Roger in, sit him down and say, "Roger, you've given this company the best years of your life ... and they were some good years. Number one across the board some books. We made some good money with you ... but David did this crazy-ass deal with CBS, the share price is in the sh*tter and and we gotta make cuts. A few weeks ago it was Matt in production and the ladies in HR ... today, your number came up. Sorry. You know we love you like a brother. But check this out, Rog ... you're a pro and we wanna do right by you ... so we'll put the word out that you're 'retiring' ... just be cool and we'll let you say your goodbyes an' fare-thee-wells. You've always been a company guy and we trust you not to f-bomb David, his wife and the old man. Check it, Rog ... Women will swoon. Guys will slap you on the back and shake your hand. Everybody will be telling you how great you are and how much you'll be missed. Sure, you'll be puking inside ... but man, you know how the game is played. Everybody is disposable. We'll make all nicey-nice, invite the TV stations, give you a grand send off with a cake, a few Bills cheerlead... uh, wait... scratch the cheerleaders... uh, we'll get Beach and Bauerle to stop by instead. You know you'll always be welcome here ... just play the role, don't rock the boat ... we'll all smile and sing koo-bye-yah-bay-bee ... whatayasay?"
But no... they give him two short ones to the base of the skull. Then again, maybe Rog opted for the bullets rather than the royal scam. The guy's a pro. Forty three years? Take a good, long vacation and tell the world to kiss your ass.