“I’ve got a story that’s gonna blow your mind!”

For the better part of two hours, Marty Bass has been sitting behind the morning anchor desk at WJZ spinning tales: some hilarious, some heartbreaking and some just head-shaking. It’s what he’s best at.

Since 1977, Bass has told mind-blowing stories to and about Baltimore, whether focused on the weather, the winning team or just the wonders of his adopted city and the people who live here. But after May 31, he’s going to be focused full-time on the continuing story of one particular life: his own.

Bass is moving with his wife, Sharon, to Birmingham, Alabama, where his daughter and her family live. After immersing himself in the job he’s had since he was 25, he’s ready to do grandfather duty.

“At some point, these girls are going to get married. And in the middle of the ceremony, the officiant is going to say, ‘We want to pause right now and remember the memory of your beloved grandfather,’” he explained. “And I want them to actually have memories of me. Not just words.”

Words, of course, are what Bass is known for, delivered with a wink and a smile. He’s always had the friendly goofiness of your favorite uncle, telling kids whether there was a snow day, talking about how the Ravens did or introducing you to some cool thing he found. Baltimore embraced him, and he embraced it right back.

“My first impression of Baltimore was as this major, big-time, huge East Coast city,” Bass said. “But once you get to know Baltimore, really, it’s a big town.”

Bass was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky, and came here from San Antonio, Texas, because he recognized that “WJZ was a legacy station,” he said. He signed a five-year contract, a commitment some saw as a mistake so early in his career. “But to me it meant security.”

He never left. In his time at WJZ, Bass has done sports and the weather, but he said feature pieces like “Catchin’ Bass” and the current “Where’s Marty?” are his favorite.

“The best part of the job is getting to see things,” he said. “I’ve been witness to a lot.”

Reporters can be a jaded group, so it is especially lovely to hear someone like Bass genuinely continue to be moved and impressed by the world. At one point during our interview, he rushed to his desk to retrieve a piece of a meteorite a friend sent him.

“It came from space!” he marveled, handing me the dense black rock. “They estimate that to be 5 billion years old. This would have formed when the solar system formed. That’s how old this is. This predates life on Earth. And you’re holding it in your hand.”

Bass is part of a waning phenomenon: that local media personality who helped define not only the news but the experience of growing up in a place. He, his longtime on-air partner Don Scott, and other WJZ figures — including Oprah Winfrey, the late Jerry Turner and Al Sanders, and the still-iconic Denise Koch — felt like friends.

Bass took that bond seriously, which is why he always says hello to strangers who approach him on the street. “The best way to learn about Baltimore stuff is to talk to people,” he said.

Like anyone who’s lived in one space for so long, Bass has had some public ups and downs, including when he was briefly suspended from WJZ in December 1985 following a brush with the law for which he was acquitted the next month. “Baltimore has your back,” he said of the city’s seemingly collective shrug to move past it.

That familiarity and approachability are why he’s so easy to talk to, and how he’s gathered so many mind-blowing stories. There’s the time he shared a cigarette and conversation with Liberace behind Pier Six Pavilion before introducing the musician onstage as part of the station’s former “Harbor Lights” concert series.

“He’s the nicest celebrity I’ve ever met,” he said. “For 20 minutes we became friends.” When Bass admired the pianist’s jewelry, Liberace told him, “Everything I wear was given to me. If something’s given to you, it has much more meaning.”

Bass adopted the idea of meaningful jewelry himself: He has bracelets with his children’s birthstones next to his own, and currently wears a Rolex his mother purchased for all her children before she died, “so then on our birthdays, we’d have a present from her.”

The reporter was also a part of the legendary crew in Memorial Stadium’s Section 34, along with Orioles super fan Wild Bill Hagy. Their bond was indicative of how Baltimore things bring all sorts together. “He was a cabdriver from Dundalk, and I’m a Jewish guy from Louisville, Kentucky,” Bass marveled. They were both there when a happily intoxicated friend spontaneously chanted the “O” during “The Star-Spangled Banner” so loudly that she nearly toppled over.

“Hagy turned around and you could see a light bulb go off over his head. He goes, ‘That was great. Let’s all do that together tomorrow night,’” Bass remembered. And so they did, yelling the “O” again during the national anthem. The initial reaction from other fans was “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, but his group ignored it. And that’s why you and your friends yell “O!” at Orioles games.

Like he said, he’s been witness to a lot. Would he ever consider writing a book?

“No,” he said, waving the idea away with his hand. “Who would want to read that?”

You’d be surprised. Parting is, perhaps, sweet sorrow, but Bass intends to visit this place that became his home. “Baltimore accepted me. Baltimore set my path,” he said sincerely. “I’ve been able to flourish in Baltimore.”

So what is he going to miss about the place? When I asked, Bass paused, a smile turning that famous mustache up to the corners of his cheeks.

“Damn near everything,” he said.