Whenever possible, I like to record my podcast in person. This is usually accomplished in Santa Monica, California, on the fifth floor of the building where mikeroweWORKS is headquartered. I fly down once a month to record five or six episodes, which my producer, Chuck, arranges, assembles, and posts on various platforms. This summer, during a very warm week in August, I interviewed six guests from this location, all of whom were excellent, and all of whom received a heartfelt apology after our conversation. Why? Because this August, during the week in question, the air conditioner crapped out, driving the temperature in the studio to a moist and balmy 87 degrees.
Eighty-seven degrees is delightful when you’re drifting down a lazy river on an inner tube nursing a cold beer. It’s not delightful when you’re mopping your brow while answering questions on a podcast. But along with the busted air conditioner, the elevator also succumbed to the second law of thermodynamics and stopped working for reasons best explained by a licensed elevator repairman. Alas, elevator repairmen are in short supply these days, so there was no way to get the machine repaired in time for my interviews. Thus, my August guests were treated to a five-story climb for a 90-minute chat in a muggy sauna, and hence, there was much to apologize for. But this week’s guest — Johnny Joey Hones — deserves a separate acknowledgement. Because Joey, as many of you know, left his legs in Afghanistan fifteen years ago, when an IED sent him home early. And Chuck forgot to tell Joey that our elevator was broken before he got on a plane and flew in from New York, just to do this interview.
Joey arrived at the office half an hour early, like a good Marine would. Chuck buzzed him in, and we ran down the stairs to meet him on the ground floor.
“Hi, Joey. Thanks for making the trip,” I said. “There’s no air conditioning and no elevator.”
Joey nodded at the “Out of Service” sign on the elevator. “I already put that together.”
“How many steps?” he asked.
“At least 60,” I said. “We’re on the fifth floor.”
Joey glanced at Chuck. For a moment, I thought he was gonna say, “What kind of producer invites a guy with no legs to an interview that requires him to climb 60 steps?” which was, interestingly, the precise question I had posed a few minutes before Joey arrived. But Joey was far too polite to talk to Chuck that way. And even though his expression—for just a moment—made me think he considered detaching one of his legs to beat Chuck over the head, Joey did no such thing. He just walked over to the first flight of stairs and stared at the mountain before him.
I didn’t know if it was possible to walk up five flights with prosthetic legs, but I doubted it. I figured Joey would either a) allow me and Chuck to carry him up, b) allow the firemen around the corner to take him up on a stretcher, or c) detach his legs and drag himself up on his own. I was loathe to suggest any of the above, but happily, there was no need. Because Joey handed me his backpack, opened his arms, and grabbed both railings in either hand. Then he started climbing.
The trick was to put each prosthetic foot as close to the wall as possible and then pull himself up one leg at a time. This required Joey to assume a (very) wide stance and muscle his way up every stair, rocking back and forth, left to right, as he advanced. It was awkward and probably painful, but Joey has insane upper body strength and made impressive progress. He is also incapable of complaining. Chuck stayed behind him, where he could break the Marine’s fall if he slipped and fell backwards, but there was no need. Joey hauled himself all the way up five flights with no assistance, pausing only briefly on the third-floor landing to catch his breath. Up top, he blew a few beads of sweat off his nose and entered my sweltering studio, where he was his usual charming and thoughtful self for the next ninety minutes.
Our conversation is here. Yes, we discuss my broken elevator and Chuck’s uncertain future as a podcast producer. But we spend a lot of time on some other issues I think are important. It’s worth your time, and so is his new book, Behind the Badge, wherein Joey talks about the extraordinary first responders who taught him the secrets to overcoming adversity while maintaining a sense of humor.
A secret he has long since mastered.