About
The Kat has been prowling the entertainment and media jungles since he was a wee lad. He just turned 50, last summer, which makes him old enough to remember Methuselah’s recipe for dirt and recall Sisyphus’ discovery of rock-n-roll. In his spare time, Kat enjoys polishing the number 42 with his Hitchhiker’s hand towel.
rough around the edges...January 2010
He’s a proud father of three, a stunned grandfather of three more and a recovering morning radio clown with a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease.
He loves Shakespeare, Calvin & Hobbes and dark chocolate. Kat’s silly and successful reign as the furrier half of Jennifer & the Kat on Magic 106 was rated the #1 morning radio show in Santa Barbara, California.
The Santa Barbara Media Committee honored them for their entertaining service to the community, plus Jennifer & The Kat were voted #1 in the Santa Barbara Independent Reader’s Poll.
If you’re still not sufficiently impressed, please note that Kat – on a dare by his favorite morning radio clown – has inhaled three huge wedges of Mud Pie at the Original Enterprise Fish Company, without barfing. This stunt will not be repeated, by him, in this lifetime. He’s still sugar-shocked and waiting for his tongue to thaw.
My daughter, grandmother and two granddaughters
Kat is a writer, voice-over talent and on-air personality whose affable charm, quick wit and self-deprecating sense of humor is readily appreciated by audiences wherever he goes. Through laughter, fun and a pinch of seriousness, he puts his listeners at ease, which allows a new way of being and possibility to emerge for living, growing and becoming more than they were before the encounter.
He believes in the power of Now and knows we’re one with everything, but occasionally forgets where he put some of it. Playing Devil’s Advocate, Kat enjoys peeking out from behind Mr. Microphone, ever ready to pounce upon opposing viewpoints, while keeping a few bon mots and insights hidden in the toes of his big clown shoes.
Excerpts from Previous Posts
It is only then that I pause in my snarling intolerance and allow it to rub me the right way; letting it head-butt me in some freakish display of bonding, which always results in an itchy case of hives and a need to go wash my face and change clothes. Sometimes, love just isn’t worth the hassle.
— Buddha on the Banister



