Less than a year after I met Janis Joplin, she was dead. Fifty years ago, I was an ambitious, plucky 18-year-old with a daily radio show on KFH, a powerhouse of a CBS affiliate in Wichita, Kansas. The AM side of the station was adult contemporary and talk; the FM side, known as Channel 97,… Continue reading Asked the forbidden question, Janis stared at me with dagger eyes, rose, and projectile vomited on me.