Tales From the Beat Episode 121: Celebration Without Cessation

Here is a transcript, curated via AI and edited by a staffer:

A celebration without cessation.

Hi, I’m Ed Garsten, and welcome to episode 121 of Tales from the Beat, where we look at news and PR from both sides of the scrimmage line.

Well folks, this time around, this episode—it’s kind of personal.

Nine years ago this month, July 2025, I gave up a very lucrative paycheck and a wonderful team. I swiped my badge for the last time and walked out of what was then Fiat Chrysler Automobiles and out of full-time employment for good. Some call that retirement.

My timing was… excellent. I gave my wonderful Italian boss two months’ notice of my plan to retire. A few days later, he said, “I’ll be away for a few days on personal business.” Two weeks before my planned exit, we were told he was never coming back. I won’t get into the details, but my new boss was someone who was, let’s say, much less supportive of me.

When he called to say he looked forward to working with me, I took great pleasure in informing him of my retirement plans—thereby depriving him of the opportunity to fire me.

I went through the mandatory retirement checklist: a round of golf, grocery shopping at 9 a.m. with the other altacacas, nightly Jeopardy—though not Wheel of Fortune. I mean, what kind of deviant do you think I am?

All right, I’ll admit: I tuned in a little early for Jeopardy just to catch the Wheel bonus round. And I know you do too. Don’t judge me.

At age 64, I felt I still had a lot to give after a long, varied career—radio, TV, local TV, 20 years at CNN, a year at the Associated Press as a national auto writer, a few years as General Motors beat writer at The Detroit News, and 11 years leading digital communications at the many iterations of Chrysler.

Somewhere in there, I shoehorned in five years as an adjunct professor of broadcast writing and announcing at Wayne State University.

After I “retired,” I took on a part-time gig with the video team at Automotive News. That lasted a little under two years. Then I posted my availability on LinkedIn, and within a day, I had two freelance offers. Technically, I still have both, although I haven’t done anything for one of them in over two years—it’s gone through a lot of changes. Enough said.

But this week, I’m celebrating my seventh anniversary working the freelance gig that matters most to me: senior automotive contributor to Forbes.com.

I owe a huge thank-you to the brilliant Joanne Mueller, who invited me to join the Forbes contributor roster. Joanne moved on to Axios shortly after I joined, but honestly, I still thank her every day for that opportunity.

You see, during those 11 years at Chrysler, where my team and I pioneered what became known as corporate journalism, I promised myself I’d return to editorial journalism.

Why? Because writing the truth, educating the public, and encountering a wild array of experts, criminals, geniuses, and everyday people facing real challenges—well, it’s one of the most rewarding and important things a person can do.

And for me, it’s a free education. I’ve learned everything from how to mutate tomato strains to how to hold a sea lamprey without getting my arm drained of life juice by the parasite (that really happened). I’ve been shoved into a wall by Pete Rose over a question he didn’t like. I’ve tried to understand what blockchain is. And of course, I’ve explored the innovations in the vehicles that move us.

The one thing I never learned—embarrassing as an auto writer—is how to drive a stick shift. Talk about not being a clutch player.

I didn’t cover much celebrity news, but I’ll always treasure my interview with Jonathan Harris, who played the evil Dr. Zachary Smith on Lost in Space.

“Set eyes on that boy. I knew he was a savage.”

“If my programming is correct, he is much to be admired. He has principles… and I have not.”

“Is that what you’re implying? Do you insist on an answer at once?”

“Then I choose silence.”

Those of a certain age will remember that fondly. That interview was for CNN’s Showbiz Tonight. Harris was in Atlanta for an appearance, and I met him at his hotel suite. He was immaculately dressed in a smoking jacket and ascot. He shook my hand warmly and invited me to partake in an enormous breakfast buffet set up in his sitting room. It was 4:00 p.m., but evidently not too late for Mr. Harris, who was apparently a late sleeper.

I expected the sinister character I’d grown up watching, but he was giggly and gracious. Thankfully, the showbiz producers had prepped me on what they needed so I didn’t have to wing it. It was a short interview—but very memorable.

Over the years, I covered Dr. Jack Kevorkian’s entire arc. The joke was I was one of the few people who ever walked out of his living room alive.

Early in my career, at K-GUN in Tucson, Arizona, I got to interview legendary voice actor Mel Blanc. If you don’t know him, he voiced Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Yosemite Sam, Foghorn Leghorn, and more. He did every one of those voices for me on camera. Sadly, that tape is lost.

During that same period, I also interviewed renowned composer Aaron Copland. I was nervous to ask what he thought of Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s version of Rodeo. I worried he’d think it was a dumb question—but when I asked, his face lit up.

He thanked me. Said no one ever had the guts to ask before, and he loved their interpretation. He appreciated how it brought his work to younger listeners.

Yes, I’ve interviewed famous people, industry leaders, and innovators who expanded my worldview in incredible ways.

But the people who made the biggest impression were the everyday folks—those who faced adversity with grace and strength.

One woman in particular stands out. She lived in northern Kentucky and had just lost everything in a devastating flood. When I asked how she’d get through it, she looked me in the eye, shrugged, and asked me the same question. Then she answered for both of us:

“We have no choice. We’ll find a way.”

That kind of strength and resilience—that’s what keeps me doing this work, nine years after leaving a full-time job. Because who wants to give up the opportunity to meet brave, brilliant people, learn fascinating things, expose wrongdoing—and share it all with others?

Above all, it’s about learning.

When you stop learning, folks, you stop living. And I’ve got a lot of life left in me.

Just because I stopped working full-time doesn’t mean my brain has.

That’s Tales from the Beat for now. I’m Ed Garsten. I hope you’ll comment, subscribe, and share. I’ll be back soon with more tales.

Take care.