Yes, I'm fully aware that last Wednesday I failed in my duty to provide you kids with a freshly uploaded awesomecast. Yes, I know that I succumbed to my uber-narcissistic tendencies and instead offered a video of me doing lame standup comedy. As an offering of peace to you, gentle listener, I give you this week's episode, which should've been next week's, but because it's longer than usual AND features someone famous (Robb Spewak from the syndicated smash hit radio program The Mike O'Meara Show), it jumped to the front of the line. I'm sure you've had just about enough of my crap to this point, so I shall type no more...Go ahead...Clicky to listen...

Even though I've referred to myself as 'Captain Verbosity' in the past, I'm sure you'll find when you listen that Robb takes that title from me with ease.

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, celebrity interviews, podcasts, radio stories

I wanted to let you kids (whomever you may be and whomever is left) know that today is not just any old Sunday. No, kids, this is one of those "extraordinary" Sundays you may have heard spoken of in hushed tones. One of those "'dis shit don't happen every Sunday" kind of Sundays. Surely a super-special Sunday, to overuse some alliteration. Get to the point? Fine...Today is the first Sunday in about 16 years that M. Dung's Idiot Show will be heard on the air in San Fransisco by (at least) tens and tens of people. Luckily, since we live in the 21st century, you can catch this comeback effort via the magics of the interweb by logging on to KYOU radio and listening to the simulcast stream. Funtime starts at 6pm Pacific (that's 7pm for me and anyone else in the mountain time zone, 9pm eastern, 1am tomorrow in Minsk, but screw them commie bastards, right?). Give Dung a listen! He's been gracious enough to join us on our tiny podcast 3 times and has also been gracious enough to reverse his thinking re: returning to radio and make the world a brighter place WITH THE IDIOT SHOW A-TONIGHT! OWW!

Labels: celebrity interviews, radio stories, tales of triumph

So exactly how does one follow up an interview with an honest-to-God member of the rock and roll hall of fame on their tiny little podcast? Well, by interviewing M. Dung a second time, of course! In a near 180° from the last interview back in December, 2006, Dungboy is back and as crazy as ever at idiotshow.net with his idiot show podcasts. I'm sure you're already eager to hear what he had to say this time around so don't delay - clicky to listen today:

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, celebrity interviews, famous folk, podcasts, radio stories

I just noticed that, as of this past Saturday, I am now officially in my third blogging year. Not too shabby considering that my initial plan was to maintain this little blogsitething for one year and one year only, after which I would move on to more compelling endeavors. As you can see, that didn't work out exactly as I thought it would...Regardless, in honor of this "blogiversary" of mine, I have for you kids an old post which I've reworked a bit. See, there's a new feature on the Penn Jillette radio show called "Pull of the Weasel" Fridays (not EVERY Friday, mind you, but some Fridays) wherein listeners are encouraged to tell tales of when they've felt the "pull of the weasel" (been compelled to do the "wrong thing") in their daily lives. Justin and I both submitted stories for the feature (neither of which has been read as of yet). What follows is the first story which came to my mind when I got to thinking about when I'd personally felt the weasel tugging at me...If you've been with me from the beginning (or are a regular awesomecast listener) you've already read or heard this story...For the rest of you, I present the condensed version of the original "Run to the Hills."

At some point in 1995, I had the occasion to drive my tiny little 1989 Geo Metro into the ass-end of one of those gigantic 1970s Suburbans (a mismatch, to be sure). The details which would explain WHY I did such a thing are not that important. What is important, however, is the fact that the aforementioned accident left me without a car for two or three weeks and forced me to "bum rides" from family and friends. Now that I think of it, I GUESS I could've rode the bus back then, except for how I just don't ride the bus...Ever...Anyhow, back then I had a friend who went by the moniker "Frog." He was a short little fella' with an enlarged cranium, an effed-up leg and (most importantly) a 1990 Ford Escort. Frog ended up being the one who drove me around most of the time that my car was "in the shop." Among the many places which he ended up having to drive me to was my part-time job as a disc-jockey at an oldies radio station. Speaking of the radio station (we were), we had an overnight DJ who called himself "Mike Shaver" who had recently been fired and had subsequently left town. Since his dismissal, one particular female listener would call up and talk to me about "Mike," saying that he had "broken her heart" by leaving town, blah blah blah. Despite the fact that she sounded "mostly nuts," I would have lengthy conversations with her because it beat the alternative (which was sitting in the closet-sized studio and talking to myself). Anyhow, after a handful of phone conversations, she decided that her and I should meet. Initially I was reluctant to see her in person (the rule is that if a female is calling into a radio station just to talk to the DJ, she's either ugly or crazy (or both) and this chick already sounded "crazy") but after being asked several times over the course of several days, I finally relented and agreed to meet this mystery girl in the food court at the Chapel Hills Mall.

Of course, Frog had to drive me up there.

So there we were, sitting in front of the Orange Julius, awaiting my possible impending doom. Since I hadn't really asked for a full description of this girl (which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake), I was "scoping out" all of the females that came around that day, some of whom...Well, let's just say that I HOPED they turned out to be the mystery girl...As you can imagine, though, all of that hope was in vain...All of a sudden, a not-so-attractive female came into view and I commented to Frog "oh man, I hope that's not her."

Yeah...It was her...

"Are you Derek?" the girl asked, in a voice that was way too loud and way to infused with drool. I hesitated a bit before owning up to who I was, but finally said "yes" and extended my hand...Though the memory is painful, I can recall that she was lanky and more than a bit awkward with patchy blond curly hair and strangely placed acne scars. She also had these curious little foamy "spittle pockets" that would form in the corners of her mouth when she spoke and she smelled strangely like old cheese...Oh yeah: and her mom was with her.

See, just as Frog had to drive me up to the mall, this chick's mom had driven her about an hour and a half from some little shit town out on the plains and she didn't seem the least bit happy about having done it. After some introductions (Freak, Frog, Frog, Freak's Mom), spittle-chick decided that we should see a movie. After admonishing me to "sit on my hands" through the entire picture (which really wouldn't have been a problem, believe me), the mom said that she was going to take the opportunity of "being in town" to do some grocery shopping and that she'd come back to the mall in a couple of hours. I then told drool-girl to have a seat in the food court and that Frog and I would go get the movie tickets..."We'll be right back," I assured her..."We'll have some lunch," I offered, as we left the food court and she faded from view.

As we made our way toward the box office, lost in the crush of mall humanity, Frog looked at me and said "well SHE'S a real winner," of course referring to the sideshow waiting for us in the food court. I agreed and then, after a few seconds of thought, the "pull of the weasel" began to gnaw at my already twisted innards. I looked at Frog and said "you know, we could run right now." He looked back at me, shocked but also visibly relieved and eagerly asked "you wanna?"

I did, in fact, "wanna." Well out of sight of the poor girl, we changed course and took off out the back door of the mall. As we emerged into the parking lot, shielding our eyes from the harsh afternoon sunlight, we immediately realized that we had made a grave error: Frog's car was parked all the way around on the other side of the mall...

And the mother was still out there, somewhere, driving around...

"Oh dear Lord," I thought. "If she sees us, she'll probably RUN US DOWN!" With that image fresh in my mind, I tore off in the direction of Frog's Ford, running as fast as I possibly could. Frog, though, with his aforementioned "effed-up" leg, fell far behind. I tried running slower so that he could catch up but it was no use, Frog just couldn't run all that way. Eventually, he tossed me his keys and limped to a stop before hiding behind a red Chrysler. I, in turn, was able to make it to Frog's car, drive back, pick him up and get the Hell out of Dodge without being sighted by the girl's mother (or the girl, for that matter) Ah, sweet freedom...

Did I feel bad? Well sure I did...Maybe a little...

As I expected, the girl called me up a few days later, the next time I was on the air. Before she could vocalize exactly how much of an asshole she thought I was, though, I asked her "so how was the movie?" and hung up.

I'm pretty sure that she'd like to kill me, even today...

Labels: 'round town, indignities, lame stories, radio stories, tales of triumph

Holy Hell it's Wednesday! Of course, that means that it's time for yet another episode of the ol' awesomecast! Of course, this week's episode isn't just any old episode...Oh no...This week, we have a guest who, even though he didn't know it, had a big influence (albeit from afar) on me when I was still working as a radio DJ. His name is M. Dung and, at one time, he was a big time rock n' roll DJ in places like San Francisco and Detroit and host of "The Sunday Night Idiot Show." Since you're wondering (oh, you were), Collin makes his regular appearance in this week's show and sitting in are my sister Heather and Johnny Huston whom the more loyal of listeners (er...downloaders) will recognize from episodes 7 and 8 of the big podcast...Anyhow, that's enough blather from me, go ahead! Click to listen:

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, celebrity interviews, collin crap, podcasts, radio stories

And so, while the sleeping giant that is the phrickin' photoblog continues to lie dormant, I shall thrill you kids with quite possibly the lamest of the Friday posts...That's right, I'm going to acknowledge a "tag" from another blogsitething...See, Mark Maynard (whom I've never really read) "tagged" our old buddy Collin (even though he linked him incorrectly when he did it) on this and, ever the dilligent little monkey, Collin tagged me. As you well know, I usually dismiss such "tags" with a disdainful wave of my (mighty) hand but...Well...Since I have nothing else for you today...Let's get this over with...
*ahem*
Derek Knight Presents: Five Things You Likely Do Not Know About Me

1. I love the smell of gasoline.
Now, don't start shouting to your significant other (or your 17 cats) "hey, that cheese boy is a gas huffer!" I am decidedly NOT a gas huffer, I simply find the smell of gasoline to be enjoyable if not (dare I say) comforting. It's hard to explain, really, I guess that my earliest recollection of enjoying the smell of gasoline was when I was maybe 3 or 4, sitting in the backseat of the family's 1969 Dodge Coronet while my mom filled up (likely at the Skelly station on Main street which is now...What is it, a Walgreens?). I think I even mentioned that I liked the smell that was emanating from the pump to my mom who, with a horrified look on her face, instructed me never to smell gas again...That clinched it, of course...The sultry smell of 85 octane was the forbidden fruit of my youth...

2. I worked at a strip joint.
But I was young and I needed the money. Seriously, when I was 19 (maybe 20) and working at a local radio station, one of the other DJs (a real dickhead named Randy) told me that he was picking up extra money DJing at a place called Jerry McNasty's. He then told me that they were short staffed and that I should go talk to "Chucker," who hired all the DJs there...Even though I was underage (I stopped getting carded when I was 17), I agreed to go talk to this "Chucker" and see about playing music while chicks that I likely went to high school with shook their c-section scars for immigrant construction workers on lunch break...Chucker turned out to be a shaky paraplegic radio-jock-turned-strip-club-DJ with a bad attitude. Despite all that, he hired me on the spot and, for one day (I just couldn't handle the crust of despair that was all over McNasty's) I was a strip club DJ. "Get your hands out of your pockets and your tip dollars ready, Gentlemen! Here comes long-legged, lovely ROCHELLE! No, really...Get them out of your pockets..."

3. I'm actually an only child.
My sister was adopted. Oh, sure, she'll refute this up and down (as will my parents) but don't listen to them. Sister. Adopted. All the way.

4. I have one of the worst speech impediments I've ever heard.
I'm not kidding about this. When I was 5 and first in school, I (like all the other students) was put through a battery of tests...Being the sharp little bastard that I am, I aced all of them with the exception of the speech test. My mom was told by the individual administering said speech test that I had a "click" in my speech and that I needed speech therapy which, of course, I took part in for at least 4 years during school. I never did get over this "click" that the school identified, mostly because I couldn't actually hear it and nobody would TELL me where my specific problem area was. After all this, I largely forgot about my speech problems until I was 18. While recording some off-the-cuff parody songs with a friend of mine, I heard on the playback (for the first time, mind you) that damn "click" that the school personnel had identified so many years earlier. When I heard it, I was devastated...I suddenly realized that I sounded idiotic, I couldn't say "ch" or "sh" sounds without mashing those sounds up into a spitty mess...For the first time in my life, it was terribly clear why the Speech lady at my elementary school had told my mom that I'd never EVER be able to participate in any form of public speaking...As you can imagine, I was horribly self conscious from that point on about my speech and, even after getting a job at a local radio station, I couldn't seem to shake my impediment...I tried to simply avoid saying things like "chubby checker" or "chuck berry" but it was no use. I tried every possible remedy I could think of to no avail until one day I realized that, if I substituted a "ts" sound for the "ch" sound and said it quickly, I suddenly sounded less idiotic if not damn near normal...In a single moment of clarity, I had identified the specific part of my mouth that caused my stupidly specific speech problem! I admit, It took a good long while to retrain myself, but now I speak with both clarity and confidence. Since "fixing" my speech impediment, I've not only worked on-air on (at least) 5 radio stations here in town but I voice commercials for radio and television which run in just about every media market in the country and I've been a public address announcer for a professional hockey team...Never going to be able to speak in public, my ass...

5. I tried, but failed, to get on Jeopardy®
A few years ago, I visited the Jeopardy website and saw that, at some point, they were going to hold contestant tryouts in Denver. Ever the eager nutcase, I registered for the chance to try out and then promptly forgot about it. A few months later, though, I got a call from the Jeopardy people telling me that I was randomly selected to participate in the big contestant search. Believe me, when I heard that, I was elated! I agreed to be at the Downtown Westin at whatever given time on whatever given day to be part of their testing. The deal is, you (and a hundred of your closest friends) first take a written test (of sorts). Those that pass said written test then go on to play a mock game of Jeopardy and THEN, those who succeed at that portion are placed into a "contestant pool" for whatever season is upcoming. I felt that it was a foregone conclusion that I'd succeed in all phases of the testing and, leading up to test day, I would play Jeopardy at home, tracking my correct answers and, essentially, continuing to feel confident. The day of the testing came and, even though I was absolutely sure that there were no possible scenarios wherein I could fail, after the written test when the chubby producer fellow called the names of those who would move on to phase two, mine was not among them. I have to say, even though I stayed calm and didn't show it, I hadn't felt so devastated since...Well, I don't even know when. I learned a valuable lesson from that day, though...Well, I learned a couple of things...First: don't get your hopes up. Second: READ CHARLES GODDAMN DICKENS! You never know when someone is going to ask you a STUPID Dickens question...SHIT! DAMMIT! AAAAAAAAAA. Er...Ah...Yeah. So that's it.

And yes, that really is it, 5 things that you didn't know about me. Likely, 5 things that you didn't care to know about me either but hey, it's Collin's fault for tagging me, right? I plan to NOT tag anyone for this little assignment, mostly because I love to watch things like this die. DIE A SLOW DEATH, 5 THINGS POST! So yeah, thanks for stopping by today...You kids have a great weekend now...

Labels: collin crap, Done Got Tagged, indignities, lame stories, me roots, pointless shit, radio stories, stuff mom's done, tales of triumph

And it IS Tuesday, September 19, 2006 which, if'n you're inclined to pay attention to such things, is international Talk Like A Pirate Day. Not being one to let such things pass sans fanfare, I am prepared to offer to you crazy kids two (count 'em - TWO) examples of your humble bloghost (that would be me) talking like a pirate under legitimate circumstances. The first is a bit cut from my short-lived stint as a DJ at a classic rock station here in town. This was from January of 2003, the day that the Oakland Raiders were set to take on the eventual Super Bowl Champion Tampa Bay Buccaneers - An all-pirate superbowl! It's not radio gold by any stretch of the imagination but I do get to have a conversation with myself on the air. Go ahead and take a listen:


Additionally, as if that weren't good enough, here I have an example of a commercial that I ACTUALLY GOT PAID TO DO for an ACTUAL car dealer...The sales event was called the "Pirates of the Car-I'd-Be-In." Sadly, on the day that the spot had to be cut, I had a bit of a sinus infection so I wasn't in full piratey glory but...it's passable. I like the parrot at the end, personally. Regardless, here that is:


So there you go...Don't forget to talk like a scurvy pirate for the rest of today! YARR!

Labels: all those funny voices, audio, holidays, radio stories, sports

Wednesday...Again...Of course, this means that I'm about to post another episode of the Son of Cheese Half-Hour Power Hour for your collective auditory enjoyment. This week's episode is merely a continuation of last week's episode except for how this week, instead of talking about radio in general, we relate goofy stories from our time spent working in radio. Of course, the "we" in this case are myself, my sister Heather, Broadcast veteran Johnny Huston and, as always, our old buddy Collin. Clicky to enjoy!

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, celebrity interviews, collin crap, podcasts, radio stories

Holy crap, it's Wednesday! No doubt, if you stick around and do that "clicky clicky" thing, you're about to be hit with another episode of the Son of Cheese Half-Hour Power Hour! This week's episode offers insight into what happens when you get 3 (count them! 3!) former radio personalities in a room, along with one on the phone. The result? Poor Collin can't get a word in edgewise! Special guests this week include broadcast veteran Johnny Huston, my sister Heather and the Bison himself Andy Kelly...I hope you enjoy:

Labels: audio, awesomecasts, celebrity interviews, collin crap, podcasts, radio stories

And so, much like last week, the week before and (likely) the week before that, we find ourselves once again locked in a staredown with that bastard they call "Tuesday." I'd like to take this opportunity to tell all (3 or 4 of) you kids that I have a lot to type about, and you should be absolutely RIVETED by what you're about to read but...I'd be lying to you if I did that. Of course, this wouldn't be the first time I've lied to you (not by a long shot) so I know that, by now, you can handle it. Hell, you've no doubt come to expect it. In fact, the handful of you who keep coming back to this goofy little blogsitething here must REALLY like being lied to...For that, I am appreciative...Thank you...

Anyhow...

How 'Bout Them Avalanche!?
I started off LAST WEEK'S completely random Tuesday post with this topic and I am compelled to do the very same thing THIS week...SCREW YOU, DALLAS STARS! Yeah! ha HA! The Colorado Avalanche, the same team that played poorly down the stretch during the regular season, the same team that had a big, fat glaring question mark at the goalie position, the same team that backed into the playoffs and had me worried that they would fall flat against Dallas not only did NOT fall flat, but they hung a Texas-sized asswhuppin' on those Stars, eliminating them in 5 games. In the series, 3 of the 4 Avalanche wins came in Overtime and the much maligned (by me) Jose Theodore stood tall when it counted, shutting the door on the Stars late in the games and giving the Avs the opportunity to score the late goals which meant the real difference. Also: Andrew Brunette, you're my HERO...

In addition to the 7th seed knocking of the 2nd seed (Avs over Stars), Edmonton pulled the proverbial rabbit out of their hockey helmet and, despite a superhuman effort by Henrik Zetterberg for Detroit, knocked off the Redwings in 6 games to also advance to the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs. Detroit, who had the best regular season record in the NHL, is not the first President's trophy winner in NHL history to be bounced unceremoniously in the first round. Some call it the "curse of the president's trophy," but I have a more realistic view: the Wings severely underestimated their opponent and, conversely, overestimated their own talent. Regardless, they're free to make tee-times now and that makes me quite happy...

Everybody Needs A Little Positive Feedback Now and Then...
As some of you may already know, I've always been quite enamored with talk radio. Among other things, I've been a talk show host in my past and, if I'm not listening to a CD in my truck, I'm likely listening to talk radio. Sadly, outside of sports talk, I've found that actual "good" talk radio can be pretty hard to find. With that said, I've really taken a shine in the last few months to the Penn Jillette Show which you can stream live from noon to 1pm (Mountain time) or, if you're so inclined, pick up as a podcast the following day. Now, because I am a proud and permanent member of the lunatic fringe, I've called into the show a couple times and also sent in an email which was read on the air. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that a "fan art" section was added to the show's website and, since I had a few extra minutes, I decided to slap something together and submit it. Now, the whole "fan art" thing has always seemed a little geeky to me and I've only slipped completely into fan-geekdom once before in my life, submitting this, which was inspired by this, to this guy some years back (he liked it). Anyhow, with only a couple of photographs to work from (and, of course, my spooky, spooky brain to assist me), I came up with this to submit to the Penn Jillette Show:
click it, it'll get all "big" and you'll be able to discern "detail" and shit...

When I sent it, I got a nice email back from Michael Goudeau saying that it was...well, I can't exactly remember what he said (and I'm not going to take the time to look) but I do remember that he liked it and that he said it would go up on the website...After a few back and forth emails between me and their web guy, it DID go up and, predictably, I felt "pride." At the end of last week, though, I got some nice, non-specific feedback on the air from Penn which led to me feeling even MORE "pride"...In lieu of an audio snippet (which might get me in trouble...copyrights and all, you know), I'll transcribe the little bit he said about my drawing during the show...

(Penn, speaking to Michael Goudeau) ...I looked at (the website) the other day, it's got pictures and stuff! Pictures from the AIDS walk, pictures of your kids, just kidnapping fodder all over the place there and uh...A picture of Moxie, me holding Moxie walking across the line at the AIDS walk and ALSO cartoons, psychotic cartoons that people send in of you and I doin' the show. There was one I really liked with you, uh, juggling donuts and me eating donuts and just boxes of donuts all over the place. I guess we give people the impression that we do nothing but eat Krispy Kreme donuts...

So there you go..."one I really liked." I know it's not much but every little bit of feedback helps. What it helps, I'm not exactly sure, but it helps. Hooray for "positive feedback" (like comments - hint hint). As a sidenote, since I was just guessing as to what the studio would look like when I drew the thing, I now feel compelled to rework it and resubmit it because pictures of the actual studio recently went up on the site and...well...The only thing I really guessed right on were the microphones. I was way off on everything else, especially about the whole "lighting" factor...

A Day Without Immigrants? Ooh, Can We Shoot For a Whole Week?..
So yesterday, in an attempt to display their "clout," scores of "immigrants" were supposed to take a cue from the AFL-CIO and forego doing any actual "work" to instead prance around in public places all across this great land and shout half-assed slogans, likely in a language which I would have trouble comprehending. Now this is all well and good, I guess - we do have a number of freedoms in this country including the freedom to assemble and the right to free speech but, if the people who were assembling and speaking are in this country illegaly...Do they really have those rights at their disposal? I think what has bothered me the most about this whole "immigration reform protest" deal which has, of course, been coming to a head for more than a few weeks now, is that those involved seem to think that the only "immigrant" which matters are those who trek across into the States from Mexico. I guess it's only fair - they probably couldn't get any help from the NAACP since the only color which that organization believes exists is "black." Regardless, around here I didn't see any significant impact - we don't employ any illegals where I work. I heard on the news that there was a gathering in Memorial Park near downtown and, following that, the group attempted to march downtown but were turned away by the cops. Now that yesterday is over (and, presumably, all of the dishwashers and construction site cleanup guys have gone back to their temp agencies to pick up some work) I'd like to say that I don't begrudge anyone who wishes to enter our country and become a part of our population. After all, this country was built on immigration, it's one of the things at the very core of american society. I just have one simple request of those who would seek to join us here:

Follow the stinkin' rules, would ya?..

Labels: cartoons n' stuff, famous folk, hockey stuff, Illustrations, lame stories, misguided rantings, radio stories, sports, tales of triumph

Indeed, I didn't get around to fixin' up an entry specifically tailored for your auditory pleasure this week. As such, I will endeavor to fill space on the ol' blog today by recounting a story that can be at least loosely tied to the subject of "audio." You are ready for the storytelling. Yes you are...YES YOU ARE!..

Let's get started...

The setting for this story is the old radio station cluster building on south Circle drive here in town which I worked at "way back when." The year, I'm guessing, was 1994, maybe 1995. I was working an "overnight" shift (midnight to 6:00am) at the oldies station and a kid named Eric was down the way, working a similar shift, at an adult contemporary station...At least 3 of the 4 stations in our part of the building were staffed round the clock (this, of course, was right before computers and voice-tracking turned the business of radio into a faceless, barren enterprise outside of "normal business hours") which meant that you were never really "alone," even late at night or on the weekends. That was actually a good thing, since the larger building (formally called the "Executive Tower" could be a pretty creepy place if you were all alone...

Now, it wasn't creepy in the "old mansion on the hill" way, nor was it creepy in a "this building has seen a lot of years" kind of way. It was creepy in a hard to explain "malevolent poltergeisty" kind of way. Indeed, among other things, the elevators in the building seemed to have minds of their own and would often take you to floors other than the ones which you pressed. Additionally, there were lights which would turn themselves on and off inexplicably in various locations and even odd noises, voices and bangings which emanated from the bathrooms on the ground floor. There were also bathrooms on the 4th floor which made me terribly uneasy, filling me with a sense that someone had committed suicide, specifically via hanging, inside them every time I went to use them.

But that's neither here nor there, really...

Back to the night which I've already described for you, after midnight some years back, me in my station and Eric in his. I can't say that I remember anything REALLY out of the ordinary leading up to the "incident," but given the building's propensity for what I deem "supernatural occurances," I was always on my guard. As I mentioned prior, this was radio before the despotesque control of the computer, so everything was segued manually. At some point during my shift, while I was facing the CD rack, I heard an odd clicking coming from behind me. I then heard Eric shouting frantically from his studio and, as I turned around, I witnessed the reel-to-reel deck which we had in the studio turning itself on and off and the reels spinning in such a violent manner that tape was spewing out in all directions. I jumped at the unit, punching the stop button, the power button and then every other button in a vain attempt to stop the sudden and inexplicable surge to life which the machine was exhibiting. All the while, I could still hear Eric shouting about...well, something...I was too busy to find out what, exactly. Finally, after unplugging the unit, the reel-to-reel slowly spun to a halt and I was able to emerge from my studio, confused and a little scared, only to find out what had flustered Eric across the way in his studio...

Also confused and on the side of scared, Eric told me that HIS reel-to-reel was "freaking out and spitting tape everywhere" at the exact same time that mine was...

Rest assured, neither of us ventured off to use the (haunted) bathrooms that night...

Labels: lame stories, me roots, radio stories, spooky shit

So there I was, typing up a (dare-I-say "salacious") account of my trip to a Peruvian restaurant as part of my recent vacation in Vegas, but 'de words just wasn't flowin' as well as usual. As such, I've decided to shelve that entry for a day or so and, instead, post a very random (yet Monkeyesque) entry for all of you...Except for how Monkey posts funny things and I'm...not...posting...funny things...

at least not right now..Anyhow, on with the "show:"
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So, can anyone (besides Jackwhodoesn'treallyexist, 'cause he's already covered this topic) fill me in as to how, exactly, these "reporters" can sleep at night when, in the course of "reporting" about the unfortunate man in Miami who brought about his own demise through his threatening actions ("suicide by cop," some call it), they continue to insist that the Air Marshalls in question acted in a hasty or ill-advised manner? I mean, seriously: why, every God-damned time that there is an individual, troubled or otherwise, who provokes law enforcement and threatens the public's safety and subsequently gets their fool ass shot, do we have to endure these whiny-ass, up-and-coming "reporters" crawling out of the woodwork like so many worms, trying desperately to make a name for themselves with their "shock journalism?" I mean, seriously...Of course that asshole in the back of the plane wouldn't have heard the guy say "the B-word" if he was, in fact, IN THE BACK OF THE PLANE and that "B-word" was uttered in the friggin' jetway...These "media outlets" continue to parade idiot after idiot in front of us in a vain attempt to crucify all law enforcement while simultaneously raising their ratings. Look, if you're pissed off because you got a speeding ticket 10 years back, or you REALLY feel that marijuana should be legal, or if you just love polishing those hindsight glasses of yours, then spare me. Go work at fucking McDonald's...Maybe you can push your agenda between selling Big Macs and sweeping up...
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Why exactly is it that, when you go into the dentist to get some x-rays taken, the dental assistant girl will cover up your torso with that lead-blanket-baby-bib-thing, but she won't give you some sort of foil hat to protect your BRAIN!? After all, THEY'RE POINTING THE X-RAY THING RIGHT AT MY HEAD! I take it from the lead ascot that there's a remote possibility that this thing could like...stop my heart...Who's to say that it couldn't fuck up my thought process as well?..I NEED THAT BRAIN TO FIND MY WAY INTO WORK EVERY DAY!..Maybe, just maybe they do that on purpose...That way, when it comes time to write the check, you're more apt to simply sign it and hand it over...BZZZT! "That'll be $600, sir." Me(drooling): "and here's a nice tip for you!"
----
So I quit the radio station that I've been working part-time at for various reasons, all good ones. Not the least of which was the fact that to get there was a long drive and I didn't feel like the "extra money" I was picking up was really worth it. What REALLY "set me off," so to speak, was that I was almost "challenged" to quit by my boss, in a sense. See, even though I had been there since 2003, the station had never included me on their "airstaff bio" page until I brought it up earlier this year. At the time, the program director was all like "ok, give us a photo and write your bio and we'll put it up." When I did, my bio WAS included on the site, but the text which I had written was placedas black on a navy blue background...Real nice and readable like, yeah? So anyway, some time after that, the whole site was redesigned ('cause we changed formats) and, finally, my bio was changed to be "readable" but, at the same time, was changed (by someone, I have suspects, but never officially asked who) to include some bullshit about my being "raised by dairy cows" and mooing and eating grass n' shit. Even though I felt that it was a bit disrespectful to do that without asking me first, I let it slide for a while because, let's face it, we can't ALL pass the creative writing class at the alternative school...But one strange day, about a week and a half ago, I woke up from a particularly restful sleep and said to myself "enough is enough: I'm telling them to take that shit down." Subsequently, later in the day, I emailed my program director something about the weekend schedule and added that "if the crap about the cows wasn't removed in a rapid fashion, I wouldn't show up whether I was scheduled or not." He emailed back and said, I quote, "even though that sounds like a threat, I'll take care of it."

A threat to what? A threat to QUIT!?..

Obviously, he didn't think that I was prepared to do it. So I did..SCREW YOU, PAL! WHO'S GOT THE LAST LAUGH NOW, HUH!?
----
So anyway, now that I'm not currently working in "radio" (again), I thought I might start one of them there "podcast" things that seem to be all the rage right now. Granted, I've been posting audio entries since I started this blog, but this would be one of them "regular weekly" shows...With interviews...And talkin'...Maybe even music, if I can get past that whole pesky ASCAP, please-don't-take-my-house-and-belongings-licensing thing. Anyhow, I'll send out an open soliciation right here: if'n you wanna be part of something totally awesome, look elsewhere, but if'n you wanna be interviewed by yours truly and be featured on future "awesome-casts," drop me a line...the "email me" link is in the top left corner of this blogsitething...
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I was gonna take down the "placeholder" post from earlier, but Andy's "divining rod" comment was so wrong in so many ways...Well, I simply had to leave it up...
----
In conclusion, I haven't actually forgotten about that last "contest" that I had going, I just didn't think that there was enough response to justify finishing it up. Add to that that a lot of people (my mom included) can't seem to follow directions and were "voting" as opposed to posting entries, I'm shelving that for now too. I may reconsider my shelving at any time so, if you did participate in that thing, rest assured that it's not dead: only sleeping...Like that Cthulu guy...Or Ted Williams...Or Monkey...

Labels: lame stories, misguided rantings, radio stories

And so, it's Monday Tuesday afternoon and I haven't posted anything on this blogsitething since Friday. Granted, I came through with the (much beloved) photoblog but, frankly, what have I done for you lately, right? The answer: nothing.

And that's a good thing.

This past holiday weekend (the one we just had) was the first such weekend wherein I was not scheduled to work all 3 days at the radio station since I started back at said station a couple of years ago. Granted, I was ASKED to work Saturday and Sunday evening for the purposes of facilitating remote broadcasts from the Colorado Springs Balloon Classic, but I partially declined, offering only to work the no-brainer Saturday evening shift. That whole "not working" stuff afforded me the ability to engage in various holiday weekend-related activities such as "sitting on my ass" and, when I wasn't doing that, "sleeping late."

Well, almost...

My wife DID get out of bed early (before 6am) on Saturday to head off, unannounced, to "watch the balloons go up." This is NOT an activity which I enjoy partaking of, but it's one that my wife enjoys immensely. See, when she was a kid, they would rise early, all three days of the Labor Day holiday weekend, to be at Memorial Park to watch the balloons go up and, just because they could, to help out the "chase crews" who follow the balloons during events like that. Conversely, when I was a kid, I just looked up and saw the balloons in the sky, from the comfort of my back yard if they happened to make it to my neighborhood and if I happened to be awake. If they didn't, or if I wasn't, so be it, it was always good enough for me. On Saturday, though, I joined my wife to go and watch the balloons, something which she seemed to enjoy. I don't think I want to do that again.

Or was that Sunday? Hell, I can't remember...Anyway...

I have actual "content" in the works and I have actual "work" to do...Perhaps I will post something that could be considered "worth a damn" here real soon...Until then, you all have a fine shortened week...

Labels: holidays, lame stories, radio stories

Welcome to the day commonly known as "back-to-work Monday." In keeping with the intended theme of the day, I am at "work," doing what could commonly be called "working." At least until right now, I guess. Yes, now I'm typing up a cheap-ass entry for you folks to read when you come around to this...Thing I do here...

Anyhow...

This past weekend wasn't terribly eventful, but things DID "happen," as it were. I did my air shift at the radio station on Saturday morning and then set about to mowing the lawn(s) when I got home. I made it through the front lawn and was in the process of edging it (and stuff) when a friend of mine, whom I haven't seen in over 5 years, pulled up in front of my house. I chatted with him about various things for about an hour or so and, as such, was unable to get to that "back lawn" because, by then, 'de storms were rollin' in. Just in case you're wondering, in the summer, we get an afternoon thunderstorm just about every day here...I love a good thunderstorm...

Anyway...

On Sunday, we had ourselves one of them "live online drafts" for one of the fantasy football leagues which I participate in. I'm optimistic about my chances, mostly because I landed Ladanian Tomlinson as my first pick. I'm set and ready to roll, ladies and gentlemen...Just bring on that NFL regular season...

And speaking of "regular seasons," opening day for the NHL is fast approaching. Well, ok...It's approaching. It really can't come fast enough for my liking...I'm so excited about the whole thing that I'm participating in Rocket Jones' Hockey Whoopass Jamboree again. It'll be especially exciting since we'll have actual NHL teams to talk the requisite smack about. If you need more information on the Jamboree, you can find out about it at Rocket's blogsitething.

Well, I hate to cut things short, kids, but I have a date with a digital sniper rifle which, in turn, has a date with a digital bullet that has Collin's digital head as it's prime target. Enjoy your day!

Labels: hockey stuff, lame stories, radio stories, sports

Hey, kids, welcome back to what is commonly called "reality" following that extended 4th of July holiday weekend...Hopefully, everyone had a safe and enjoyable celebration of the birth of our nation (229 years young, baby) filled to the proverbial brim with barbecued meats, freely-flowing booze and things which "light up and go boom." Oh, yeah, also "togetherness with friends and family" and stuff like that...For the most part, I had a good time over the aforementioned "weekend," despite having to work in the morning at the radio station on both Saturday and Monday...Admittedly, radio ain't manual labor, but just "getting out of bed" at 10 'til 5 on Monday morning turned out to be a bit of a challenge for me, not to mention trying to "stay awake" and "speak clearly" for 6 hours after having stayed up late on Sunday...

But that's neither here nor there...Where were we?..

Oh yeah, so on Saturday, after I got home from "the work," I assisted my wife in finishing up the "cleaning of the garage," a project which was just BEGGING to be done...I have to say, it's amazing how much space you suddenly have once you just start "throwing crap away" and/or giving said "crap" to Goodwill...There's room to move in the garage now!..I'll readily admit that my wife did the bulk of the work related to said "garage project," but, c'mon, what could I do? While I was all at "work" and stuff, she got all "motivated" and stuff and did a lot of...Well, "stuff."

And then, after that stuff, it was time to prepare for the poker tournament...stuff...

See, kids, on Saturday evening, we hosted the (second ever) "Dead Money" Texas Hold-'Em Tournament at our humble abode...Due to that whole "holiday" thing which we already discussed (oh, we did), some of the people who would've otherwise jumped at the chance to play some cards ended up "not being able to play" due to their being "out of town." At least one "player" had to work on Saturday evening and a couple others simply had too much "stuff" to do...As such, we ended up hosting a smallish tournament (9 players total), but it was a whole lot of fun, nonetheless...The tournament field included myself, my wife, my mom, my dad, my sister (who was the big winner of the first tournament back in September), Collin, Justin, Justin's wife Jen and Joe, who went to high school with my wife...Play began on two separate tables and, after three players were eliminated between those two tables, we merged into what is, of course, called the "final table." With the blinds steadily increasing and, conversely, my chip stack decreasing, I figured that it wasn't long before I was finished...

Then came those 4 jacks...

I went "all-in" and pulled back a tremendous amount of chips on a single hand where I was lucky enough to hit 4 jacks...Suddenly, I went from being on the brink of elimination to "sitting pretty." After some whittling away of players' chips and, at the same time, the players themselves, eventually there was just me squaring off against my dad...Once we started "heads-up play" for the championship, I was facing a near 3 to 1 chip deficit, despite winning the big hand which I elaborated upon earlier...A few hands went by and I decided that I should start playing a tinch more aggressive, so I went all-in, pre-flop, with a suited jack-4...Dad called my all in...We flopped...

The flop came Jack, 4, 4...Dad, in effect, was suddenly "drawing dead."

That hand took a big fat chunk out of his chip stack and, a couple hands later, roles reversed...Dad went all-in, pre-flop and I made the call. Dad showed unsuited king-queen, I showed suited Ace-4. No one paired up on the resultant flop-turn-river and, as such, I won the hand (and the tournament as a whole) on nothing more than a stinkin' ace high...Yay me...So, after divvying up the prize money pats on the back and vats of pride, I fired up the audio equipment and, with only a couple exceptions, the tournament participants stuck around to finish off the fun by singing some karaoke...All in all, it was a great time, one which I hope we can have more often than "every 9 months" or so...

After packing so much "fun and frolic" into Saturday, Sunday was pretty much a wash...Slept in, did yardwork, played video games and lounged around...Stayed up late, though, like I mentioned...

So, after working Monday morning and, afterward, taking a nice afternoon nap, my parents came over for dinner and fireworks...I had spent 50 bucks on a big-ass "family assortment" at Collins fireworks and was prepared to dazzle everyone with a display of fountains, crazy jacks and these things called "crackering balls." As the festivities got goin' last night, though, it was painfully obvious that I was the only one in the neighborhood that "didn't get the memo," so to speak...Whilst I set off my weak-ass "legal" fireworks, pretty much everyone within a 2-block radius was busy setting off thousands upon thousands of dollars of high-end (and completely illegal) fireworks pyro-friggin'-technics to everyone's amazement and awe...Don't get me wrong, I love the stuff that flies and explodes and is generally "dangerous" and that has been deemed "outside the law" in our state (face facts, it's COOL), but I haven't actually been in possession of such things for many years now. It seems, however, that everyone else in the neighborhood saw fit to make the trip to wherever (Wyoming or New Mexico, both are easy to get to from here and both sell the stuff) to pick up "the good stuff" as it were...One particular family MUST HAVE spent close to $10,000 on the fireworks which they set off, I'm not kidding. From late afternoon until 10pm, Friday until Monday, these people were putting on one Hell of a show, firing off everything from roman candles and bottle rockets to the larger, cannon-fired "mortars" which you see at the large, commercial fireworks shows...

the concussion from these things shook our windows...Seriously...

We really did have the best seat in the house, so to speak...All in all, we got to see some amazing pyrotechnics from the neighbors and I got to have fun lighting my lame crap on fire...I'm utterly flabbergasted that the Sheriff's department didn't show up...Not even one deputy rolled down our street during the nearly 3-solid-hour "boomfest." The lack of law enforcement presence through all of that makes me feel real safe...Almost safe enough to get me some bottle rockets for next year...We'll see...

Well, kids, it's back to work for me...You all have a fine Tuesday!..Don't blow anything up...

Labels: holidays, lame stories, poker, radio stories, tales of triumph

And so ends, for now, my "vacation" and subsequent "blog pseudo-hiatus." I did get a lot of things done around the house and outside while I was "away," which is good, because it all needed to be done. In addition to that, I pulled a couple of shifts at the radio station over the holiday weekend and slept most of the day on Monday (too much "workin' outside," you see). I went shopping yesterday and had dinner with my parents at their new favorite Chinese buffet...See, I've had to try and keep myself busy, because my wife is gone for a couple weeks, having traveled to Las Vegas to visit her Dad, Stepmom and Sister. I'll be flying out to join her in about a week. Until then, though, more with the "busy." The biggest difference I've noticed, being the only person in the house, is that I keep hearing all manner of "house noises," which I would probably dismiss otherwise. As it stands, while I'm alone, I'm constantly going through the "who's making THAT noise" process. Don't get me wrong, I'm not paranoid, I just always figured that, up until now, it was my wife making all the noise. Now, I realize that's not always the case...

Speaking of not being paranoid...

Yesterday, while I was working in the yard, the wind must've blown open the door that leads into the house from the garage. Now, I know that the thing doesn't always latch properly, but seeing the door ajar when I know for a fact that I closed it before going "out of sight" of the darn thing just didn't sit right with me. As such, (just to be SURE) I decided that I should "clear the house," as it were, going from room to room and checking every possible place where someone could be hiding. I realized that my sheer girth wouldn't be sufficient protection for such a task and, at this time, I don't own a gun. Because of that, I chose as my weapon the first, and most intimidating, item which I could think of: a big-ass Chinese meat cleaver...I'm sure I looked pretty comical, traipsing all over my home, checking in closets and behind shower curtains, cleaver in hand, but, as it turned out, nobody was there to witness such things...It's for the best, anyway...I keep that thing awfully sharp...

It looks like I should get back to work here, I have an ad I need to get proofed by noon AND, now, a new Captain Kia comic to draw...Hopefully, I'll have some actual "content" to share very soon...Have a fine Wednesday, kids!

Labels: indignities, lame stories, radio stories

I'm not feeling well today. I am "sick." Are you "sick," too? Did you pass along whatever you have and make me "sick?"

If you did, I will hunt you down...

Anyhow, I hope that everyone had a splendid New Year celebration. Mine was fun,...My wife, my sister, Collin, Collin's Brother and I all got together for New Year's Eve at my parents' place to play some poker and other games, including "Rock and Roll Triviologies," which is an enjoyable game, albeit rather challenging. There wasn't much drinking, at least not on my part, as my New Year's header would've suggested, I just didn't feel up to it...

The night before, on Thursday, I actually saw a movie (in a "theater," no less). My wife and I joined Collin and my sister for Napoleon Dynamite which, once you get past the first 15 minutes or so, is certainly worth witnessing. It's a hard film to describe, just suffice to say that, if you don't laugh at SOMETHING when you're watching it, check your pulse. You might be dead.

I had to work at the radio station on Friday and, for the first time in 10 years (or so), I was in charge of the "noon request hour." I have to say that it was a lot of fun, especially when my sister called in to request her favorite song and I just threw out my stock answer "We'll see what we can do for ya" and hung up...

I DID eventually play her song, but apparently she had stopped listening by then. Ah, cruel fate.

I set up the karaoke equipment on Saturday night so that my wife and I could sing some. I took it upon myself to record some of the things that we sang, but I doubt that any of them will end up on the ol' blog. You find out real quick that, when you playback the recording, no matter how good you thought you might be singing, you're no American Idol...

Sometime after the singing, and before waking up on Sunday, I became "ill." Most of yesterday I was pretty useless and I'm still feeling poorly today, as I already mentioned. Watching the Broncos beat the Indianapolis second-teamers into oblivion made me feel a little better, but having to play hockey later on (it was a playoff game) didn't serve me very well. We lost, but it's just as well. I'm finally done with the Chapel Hills Mall ice rink and, after 8 years, I'm done with the team that I played on there.

I should probably at least attempt to do some work today. Wish me luck. Happy new year to you all.

Labels: collin crap, holidays, lame stories, radio stories, Singing Off-Key

Well, folks, thanks for participating in my big time "ask the host questions and wait for the answers" post (now fortified with "stuff). It is now time for said answers to be revealed, as it were. Hang on, lady, we go for ride...

Andy K., who had the "honor" of the first question, wanted to know:
Did you find any print material that may have been written by me at Graham?
Some, yes. But you know that by now...

Diana, who's one of those "Math people," posed THIS query:
Is 1 a prime number?
One is the LONELIEST number, the loneliest since "two." I think that it would have to be aged for a certain period of time, or be from properly fed numerical stock, to be considered "prime." Hope that helps...


Collin asked THIS pointed question:
WHY do we still practice daylight savings time? Why don't we set our clocks forward a half hour next Spring and then leave it alone?
um...Because, dude. We can't become complacent and NOT screw with our clocks throughout the year. Besides, without such things, we wouldn't be able to make fun of forgetful people like so much clockwork...

Jack Had THIS to say:
A serious one. Well, more or less: Have you ever had any of your cartoons published? If the answer is yes, and you've already mentioned that in a past post, sorry about that shit, I can't read everything.
Yes, actually, I've illustrated 4 books, the first when I was still in high school. I've also done some freelance work for various websites and, since I work at an ad agency, some of my original cartoons are featured in various markets for stupid used car sales. Also: That "shit" is ok, I haven't read all of YOUR stuff either...

my sister Heather threw this out:
Who REALLY built the pyramids?
The Hebrews, under the oppressive (yet impressive) thumb of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs. That and some independent contractors from Atlantis.

Andy C Wanted (badly) to know:
Who actually follows the directions on the box and REHEATS pizza?
Well, not ME. I prefer pizza when it's sat out for a while and it's room temperature and the cheese is all hard. I can't imagine that pizza would be any good whatsoever when re-heated, but that's just me.

Monkey Had himself 4 big questions for me:
1) What is your favorite breakfast cereal? Cracklin' Oat Bran, affectionately known as "Super Colon Blow." To be fair, though, I don't eat cereal much if ever. If I DID, though, that'd be my favorite.
2) Who was the first girl you banged ? "Nicole," why, you know her?
3) What's on your computer desk right now - please tell EVERY object! I have a couple monitors and my G4 tower and stuff and things and I have a bat and an Invader Zim clock. Frankly, there's too much "stuff" to mention. I'm lazy. Sorry.
4) What is that noise? Probably you making your dog fart again...Sick bastard...heh.

Collin weighed in again with another GREAT frickin' question:
Why do people think you are older than me?
It's the "receding hair line," you giant leprechaun, shut up...

Andy K. threw another question my way that looked like this:
Why am I such a pain-in-the-ass?
I didn't realize that you were...Maybe we'll have to talk to Andrea about that...

Wendy, like Monkey, had 4 queries for me:
How many radio stations have you worked at? Which ones? What was the best? Worst? I have worked at 5 different stations, but I've worked at one of them 2 different times. KSPZ (oldies) was my first and current, KVUU (AC) I worked at for a whole week, KVOR and KTWK (newstalk) I did fill-in for talk shows and a special oldies show on Sunday mornings and KKFM (Classic Rock), which I was on for a while last year and the year before. The best: KVOR, the worst: KKFM.
Did you ever interview anyone "famous"? (local celebrities count) Not so much although I DID take a call from my mom live on KVOR one morning.
Who put the "ram" in the "ramalamadingdong"? That one guy. You know him.
Why can't you get off your ass and get your own taquitos? Too fat from too many taquitos! Actually, I CAN...and I do...

Ranta Lot posed this little question to me:
What do you think of those people who never, ever, watch sports of any kind?
Seriously, I worry about people like that. NO sports? Of ANY KIND? EVER? Man, isn't there something that these people can get excited about? ANYTHING? Even NASCAR or golf?..

damamadame offered up this little homage to the Zombies:
What's your name?
Who's your daddy?
Is he rich?
Is he rich like me?
Has he taken any time
To show you what you need to live?

Tell it to me slowly
I really want to know
Derek, Jess, not really, I would guess not, for the most part, but I learned a lot from television, too. Oh, wait...D-e-r-e-k....

A seemingly impatient Diana asked this on Friday afternoon:
When are you going to answer all these questions and why haven't you already?
I'm...Um...Answerin' 'em right now.

Vadergrrl wanted to know:
What do you define as cool? like fonzie cool, or i wanna fit in with the popular culture kinda cool?

just askin.

btw, i think your sister is hella cool. cooler than fozie too.
"Cool" to me is between 38° and 45°. Anything below that would be "cold," at the very least, and it starts to become "balmy" above that. I'm sure my sister appreciates you thinking that she's cool, by the way, but who IS this "Fozie" you speak of?..heh.

And speaking of my sister, Heather had YET MORE things to ask:
Why do people think you're older than ME? Beats the Hell out of me. I guess it's "because."
Why doesn't Badfinger get the credit they deserve? That has to do with modern radio programming being so formulaic and "safe." They get the credit that they deserve from the right people and, frankly, that's all we should really ask for...
Do you think the Broncos should trade Jake for Tim Couch? No, no and Hell no. Even if Jake had laid another egg this weekend, he would still be head and shoulders above Tim Couch who, if he's not currently, should be bagging groceries somewhere...

Tricia asked possibly the most profound question in the bunch:
Why does humidity make my hair frizz?
*sigh*, I didn't want to have to be the one to break this to you, Tricia, but you're white.

And finally, El Sid posed these questions two:
if you had theme music, would it be like "Rocky" theme music, or like "Terms of Endearment" theme music? Depends on the situation, really, but it's probably, more often than not, the 1812 overture complete with several cannons.
and where ARE your taquitos? They are, like always, at Rudy's Little Hideaway. They're good! You get them when you order a "Ray's Favorite."

And so that's it. Again, I should wish to thank all of you who participated in this. It made it fun to actually have questions to answer. We shall now return to our regularly scheduled programming...

Labels: cartoons n' stuff, Done Got Tagged, I eat food, me roots, pointless shit, radio stories, sports

this post is a true rarity for me...It's being typed up from somewhere OTHER than my trusty Mac workstation at the Agency and, (holy crap), it's being typed INTO THE BLOGGER WINDOW THING! I'M WORKIN' WITHOUT A NET HERE, PEOPLE! Usually I type these silly entry-things into "TextEdit" so's I can...well...edit 'em and save 'em and such, but not today. No, this day I live squarely on the EDGE! Screwy, I know...I'd probably forego posting ANYTHING today (it's a holiday), but I'm so bored...Well...Here I post...

I'm currently sitting in the control room at KSPZ 92.9 FM, the radio station where I work part time. Judging by the station website, though, I don't actually exist. I am, in fact, a non-entity, someone who must've defeated the security permiter, restrained the regular DJs and defiantly went on the air. As cool as that scenario would be, it's not true. The truth is significantly less glamourous, I've simply been forgotten. I am disposable in every sense of the word. The station doesn't HAVE to treat me well to keep me around, they've proven that already. In fact, the only station I've worked for here at Citadel Broadcasting that DID acknowledge my presence was KKFM and, just a couple weeks after my name, although misspelled, was placed on the station website and I was presented with my very own personalized radio jingle sweep...I was taken off of the schedule. No explanation, just replaced...

I'm not bitter or anything, don't get me wrong...But c'mon...What the Hell?..

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. What is here, though, is me. Or would it be "I?" Aw Hell, like I said, I'm "driving the bus" this morning, as it were. Being that it's Labor Day, the "full-timers" are out at Memorial Park for the Colorado Springs Balloon Classic...Due to that, I get stuck, on-air, in the studio. Don't get me wrong, I don't care to be out at the event...In actuality, I'd prefer to be asleep, an activity that I'm sure my agency co-workers are currently enjoying. I've been on the air every day of the three-day Labor day weekend...You might think "ooh, how cool!" I'd disagree, but I like to do that...That facts are that, this being my second stint in radio, I'm just not terribly excited about the whole thing. Truth be told, I was really damn close to simply quitting this "gig" rather than show up for my scheduled shifts this weekend. I've decided that I'm reaching the point of diminishing returns when it comes to this second career of mine and I'm quickly becoming indifferent to the world of broadcasting as a whole. As B.B. King would sing, "the thrill is gone"...

Here's a hint from me to you, kids, if you EVER find yourself thinking about picking up radio, or broadcasting in general, as your career...Don't...You CAN do better for yourself...It doesn't matter what else your prospects are, if you want peace of mind AND the possibility of financial gain, Radio is NOT the place to be..."But what about Howard Stern and Larry King? What about Rush Limbaugh and Don Imus? They make big money in radio!?" you'll ask me...My response would be "Right place, right time, kids." How lucky do you think YOU are? That's what THAT'S all about, friends, luck over skill plus how much ass you can kiss in a given day. Even if you DO have all of the right components in place, the odds of you being the next Limbaugh or Stern are very heavily against you. Best case scenario? You'll most likely top out as the next Randy Hill, who was my boss when I first started. Randy is the most unabashed "yes man" I've ever had the occasion to meet...This not-so-endearing trait HAS afforded him a reasonably successful career as a program director and on-air talent in various markets, but he has no other choice in life than to follow the money, picking up and moving to another market once he's worn out his welcome in whatever one he's in which, oh by the way kids, ALWAYS happens in radio...It's only a matter of time before you're looked upon as expendable, no matter how much praise the management heaps upon you. They'll pat you on the back right up until they hire your replacement and unceremoniusly usher your ass out the door. It's all about the bottom line in corporate radio and, as such, the "talent" sees as little money as possible. In addition to their tight bankroll, corporate radio stations run as lean as they can, with computer technology affording "station clusters" the ability to run with a true skeleton crew which can appear to be a full frickin' airstaff through the black voodoo computer magic that is "voicetracking." In fact, if you hear someone "live" on the air on your local station, chances are...They're not really there...A computer runs the show, segues the music and logs all activity. That same computer allows for individual "live mic" breaks to be PRE-RECORDED up to 2 weeks prior.

Feel ripped off? You should...This happens all over the country...In fact, in a neat little ironic "voicetracking" twist, when my wife and I moved into our new house, the folks at the U-Haul place were LISTENING TO ME while I was SIGNING THE CONTRACT FOR THE TRUCK...Got me some funny looks that day...

Only the smallest percentage of radio people make it big and, unless something changes, that percentage will most likely go DOWN year after year...The aforementioned Computerization, consultant-driven homogenization of station formats, corporate "cluster" ownership and increasingly diverse media availability and options are all combining to erode the already pockmarked face of radio...Long gone are the days of the "boss jock" and, in fact, gone even are the days of the "DJ." As my oh-so-astute Operations Manager explained to us "jocks" in an airstaff meeting last year "The day of the DJ is dead. You do not make any decisions about content, you do not put on a show, you do NOT deviate from the format, you DO NOT play requests...You do what we tell you to do or you will be replaced, I've got dozens of tapes from people all over the country who would fill your position in a heartbeat. You are all a dime a dozen."

Cool...Thanks for the pep talk, chief. In essence, His dumb ass is the organ grinder and I'm paid to be the monkey. And I'm not paid very well at that...

When I "retired" from radio in 1998, I was making $6.00 per hour. That sum represented 5 years of hard work, dedication, improvement and 3 raises...I started in 1993 at what was then "Springs Radio" as an overnight board operator making the laughable sum of $4.25 per hour, minimum wage at the time. For my part-time monkey work now, I make double that, but considering the fact that I have to drive to the far north end of town from my home at the far south end to babysit a computer and say the call letters 4 times per hour, it's just not worth it. There's little to no job satisfaction inherent in my presence here, in fact it's quite a joke. It's not about the money so much, seeing as I can makethe same amount voicing ONE SINGLE radio commercial at the Agency (even though I'm only paid a half rate for THAT) as I can in 5 hours of radio monkey work. If I happen to pick up spots to read at other production houses in town, that amount can double, even triple...

Can you say "disenchantment?" I knew you could...Here, gold star for the day...Ironically enough, my Program Director JUST called to thank me for working this weekend. He said that I've "done an awesome job and that he owes me big"...Being the asshole that I am, I just responded with a simple "yep." Heh...If he only knew...

So, Anyway...Have you ever been listening to the radio in your hometown (or elsewhere) and the DJ comes on and does his or her thing and you think "man, this DJ sucks?" If you have (and I KNOW that you've had occasion to think such things), there's a very simple reason why...The individuals that happen to be unfortunate enough to have fallen into the trap and ACTUALLY MADE RADIO THEIR CAREER are not always the ones who are best at it...Make any sense? A lot of times, the ones who are really very good end up finding their way out, if only into managerial positions within the corporate radio structure. Even then, when those who escape end up with very satisfying careers and peace of mind and all of that noise, they're often referred to as "former DJs" or, god forbid, continue to identify themselves as such...The reason for this comes down to the "X-factor," the intangible lure of possibly being a "celebrity"...DJs are afraid of giving up radio because they're afraid of losing their identity. There are a number of people who fill space on the air in many markets who are simply there because they're willing to trade a liveable wage, job security and other really great things for that great stupid intangible...

"celebrity." Say it with me, "celebrity..." it sounds so seductive! Wouldn't you like to be one? Well, if you're on the radio full time, you'd certainly become one, wouldn't you? if only on a local level, you too could be "COOL."

Truth be told, you don't REALLY become a cool-ass celebrity, which is just as well, as not many people are truly equipped to handle such things. Don't get me wrong, you can still be cool...That's completely up to you...If you want celebrity status, though, you're gonna have to star in a major motion picture or fire some rounds at a political figure or something...Oh sure, when you're a radio DJ you'll get to have your one or two (10 or 11 if you're female) personal nutcase stalkers who think that YOU, mr. radio man, are their VERY BESTEST FRIEND because you happen to be transported into their homes and cars and, by proxy, their very lives via the voodoo magic that are radio airwaves...These stalker-people can range from benignly annoying to downright fucking scary. I've never had any "fans" whos behavior progressed beyond mildly annoying, but my sister, when she was a recognizable on-air personality, had (among her collection) her own personal stalker named Jesse. Jesse lived in La Junta (probably still does) and was totally head-over-heels in love with her. Well, to be fair, he was in love with her voice. So much so, in fact, that he asked my sister to marry him on many occasions. He routionely sent gifts to her at the station's address, including a...well, for lack of a better phrase, a framed "Glamour Shot" of himself all dressed up like the Frito Fucking Bandito, replete with a sombrero, two pistolas and a bandolier or three. It was good for a chuckle, but deep down I was always a wee bit concerned that, someday, he'd actually show up, stinkin' drunk, brandishing those pistolas...Luckily, nothing like that happened, but things like that HAVE happened to people in similar situations...

Anyway, I've bitched enough about this topic. In about an hour I'll be going home so I can (hopefully) rest up for work tomorrow. Perhaps this WILL be the last time I'm ever on the air...I guess time will tell...If history is any judge, I'll keep coming back for more...I'm not terribly bright, after all...

Labels: holidays, me roots, misguided rantings, radio stories

I love old music. I particularly love old, obscure music. As such, I've spent (roughly) the last 11 years amassing my CD collection, compiling a great stack of music, obscure and otherwise, which date from the 1930s all the way to "present day." I have in my possession some wonderful calypso music, a lot of fantastic blues and swing and (arguably) the largest collection of 50s, 60s and 70s rock, soul, funk, r & b, rockabilly, disco and jump blues anywhere. With this fact in mind, you can imagine my elation when I was contacted and asked to D.J. a 60th birthday party/reunion for a group of people who were described to me as "ardent fans of 50s and 60s music, especially doo-wop."

FINALLY!..Damn...

It's "gigs" like these which make suffering through wedding reception after lousy wedding reception seem (almost) worthwhile. Now I'd have the chance to unleash the deepest collection of "oldies" in the western hemisphere (mine) on a crowd who would truly appreciate it. The party was to be held at the home of the "birthday boy" which is located in Black Forest, Colorado and I was told that I'd be set up "out on the patio." For those of you unfamiliar with the geography of the Colorado Springs area, Black forest is a rather exclusive wooded area northeast of town. It's also (roughly) an hour drive (give or take, depending on traffic) from where I live (south of town). I expected that the place would be nice, most places in Black Forest are...When I got there, though, it was more than I could've expected. I was in complete awe. I was told that the property as a whole encompasses 40 acres. The main house is giant. The garage and attached workshop are larger than my whole house. The whole place has been thoughtfully landscaped and, true to form, their patio is no ordinary patio, it's terribly expansive. This place is easily the largest private home that I have ever had the occasion to visit...

Before I go much further with the story, though, I should fill you all in about the tradition of "name that tune" here at the agency where I work. Unless you're completely devoid of television, color or otherwise, you've probably been exposed, at one time or another, to the classic game show "Name That Tune." We play "name that tune" here, but my version of the game is not much like the old TV gameshow. It is, in fact, more of a "free-for-all" wherein I put my ITunes on shuffle, turn up my speakers and let fly with songs. The other members of the art department are then required to shout out artist and title. If they're right, they are allowed to glow with pride. If they're wrong, they feel burning burning shame (also: humiliation). Regardless, it's a whole Hell of a lot of fun. The game was significantly more organized during the "era of Andy," which (conveniently) was the period of time when Andy (whom you all know from comment-box fame) worked with us. The game became such a tradition that, around lunchtime, people from many different departments would gather in the art department for a scheduled round of name that tune. I would play 10 preselected songs and the players would write their answers on a "test sheet" which I would then grade. Highest score would win a prize, which was always a candy bar (I had a prize budget, even!) Andy won a lot of candy during the game. He is, to this day, the undisputed "name that tune" champion. After Andy was "sent away," though, the game, like our hearts, died. (without it's star player, what could we do? Let Scott win? I think not.) The game DOES pop up now and then, but it's a mere skeleton of it's former self...So sad...*sigh*

...ok, where was I?..Ah yes...

"What does "name that tune" have to do with the story," you ask? "EVERYTHING," I say! The partygoers were, in fact, SO RABID about "oldies" music, that the night ended up becoming nothing more than one big "name that tune" game for which I earned money. There were precious few songs I could play that SOMEONE wouldn't shout out the artist and title for. In fact, the few times I actually "stumped" them, they (collectively) gave me a look that said "ha ha! You crafty devil!" (which I am). Everyone there, except the few "younger folks" that didn't count, had a wonderful time. The music had them dancing, singing and reminiscing for hours. So many hours, in fact, that I stayed and played 2 hours past my scheduled end time. Near the conclusion of the night, the die-hards who remained simply arranged patio chairs in front of my table and shouted out "musical challenges" that, thanks to the song collecting fervor that took over my brain at age 19, were quickly answered to the oohs, ahhs and reminiscent stories of the crowd. I had finally found a group of people where, musically, I fit in, never mind that these people are all twice my age. They wouldn't let me leave and it was just as well, since I didn't feel like going anywhere...

I should mention, also, that I wouldn't have sounded nearly as impressive on Saturday night if it weren't for the roundabout help of a former D.J. called M. Dung. The Dungboy, as he calls himself, started in radio some years ago and, through his unique brand of showmanship and endearing on-air style (HELLO EYYYYE!), landed gigs in many major markets. For years, he and his "Sunday Night Idiot Show" were staples on the legendary KFOG 104.5 FM in San Francisco. Dung (real name "Mike Slavko") has since retired from commercial radio, disenchanted by the formulaic bullshit that now dominates American airwaves. (I feel that it's a great loss to have someone so obviously talented driven away from the business by what the business has become, but until I can purchase my own station, I can't really change it.) Anyhow, while his Idiot Show was still going strong, Dung collaborated with Rhino Records, who released a CD titled "M. Dung's Idiot Show Classics" (oh-dayyy!) It's a tight little collection of oldies music that, if you're a serious oldies collector, MUST be amongst your holdings. For your reference, it looks like this:
So anyway, during the party, I was approached by one of the more "learned" party goers who requested "Shake a Tailfeather" by the 5 Du-Tones. It seems that this particular version of the song (there's at least 3, by the way) was the one to hit big in St. Louis, which is where all of these folks were originally from. Well, thanks to the fact that I added the aforementioned CD to my collection some years back, I was able to "whip out" the 5 Du-Tones version and "save the day," as it were, to the delight of the crowd. It's strangely satisfying to see a group of 60 year old men and women absolutely "getting down." I bet they were pretty sore come Sunday morning. So thanks, Dungboy. I'm one appreciative "idiot" that wishes you were still on the air somewhere...

I believe that I made a good impression on these people overall. Good enough, hopefully, that I get called back to do more. Time will tell on that, but at least I got to have the "big fun" at least once..."Yoww," indeed...

Ah, I can't forget to share this...During the more informal "name that tune" session, it was requested that, for as long as I could, I play "tragedy" songs (wherein someone dies). I was delighted, seeing as these are tunes that rarely get played (some, for obvious reasons). I fired up the staples, ("Last Kiss" by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers and "Teen Angel" by Mark Dinning), got to play my personal favorite, ("Endless Sleep" by Jody Reynolds), and then, of course, there were the absolute crap songs ("Honey" by Bobby Goldsboro and "Tell Laura I Love Her.") These folks sang right along with every single song and shouted out for more. It made me feel warm and funny inside all at the same time. And, yeah, I got paid for all of this, to the tune of $500. Sometimes it's good just to be me, even though I didn't have "Ebony Eyes" like I thought I did...Ah well, for next time...

After all of this, including the fact that I played softball right before packing up and heading to the "gig," on Sunday morning I was pretty well beat. I rested most of the day and played hockey at 7:30 pm. The team, as a whole, played very well and we came away with a (rare) win, 4 to 2, over the "Moose Knuckles." I'm hoping that this success begets more success, losing all of the time sucks. Either way, hockey is fun...I can't lose sight of that...

As a postscript, I have a wedding reception (hopefully my last) to DJ this coming Saturday (as I mentioned last week). I'll let you all know if it goes OK, I'm expecting good things, but I now know that nothing will ever surpass the fun of the party on Saturday. If I could do gigs like that that every night of the week, I would, possibly for free (don't tell anyone). It'd make me the happiest DJ ever...

Labels: lame stories, mumbling about music, radio stories, tales of triumph