“You ruined my whole evening,” the man on the phone spat at me and hung up. I had apologized to him and explained to him that I had warned everyone that this would probably happen. But he had not heard my warning, only what I had warned against.
It was about 18 years ago. Normally I worked the graveyard shift at KNUI radio. The station was automated overnight. I changed the music reels, taped ABC feeds, produced commercials and set up for the morning show. For about a week in the fall of 1993 I worked the afternoon shift. I was thrilled to be able to be on the air on the AM portion of the station. The FM portion was automated 24 hours except news at the top of the hour. I was very familiar with the controls. So while I backtimed the two stations for the music to end right at the top of the hour I taped the ABC news off the satellite feed. It was probably just before four or five o’clock in Kahului, Maui. The news was from the west coast where it was three hours later.
Before satellite technology people who lived in Hawaii got all their TV shows a week later than the rest of the U.S. Even our TV news was a day late and the Today show was from yesterday. But by 1993 techoniogy was catching up. We got stuff the same day but usually delayed just a few hours. This afternoon I pulled a sound lever down into audition where only I could hear it. At 56.50 was a tone, then at 56.59 a chirp. I hit record and heard the voice of the ABC news begin. I may have been feeding the FM an instrumental to fade down at the top of the hour. I had chosen a song on the AM to end right when it was time for the news. I was thrilled to be doing so many things at once. I loved timing everything out in my head. This could have been my favorite part of the job right here. The ABC news ended and I rewound the tape.
At the top of the hour I took control over the FM station. We were in simulcast. I played the tape of the afternoon newsman giving the station identification and introducing the news. Then I did something I didn’t usually do. I brought up my own microphone and spoke on the AM and FM stations.
“ABC news is being broadcast from the west coast of the US mainland,” I announced. “There is a good chance that they will announce the final score of tonight’s World Series game. If you do not want to know the outcome of tonight’s game, you may want to leave the room or turn down your radio.”
The game had already been played in Philadelphia and would be on TV in Hawaii that night. I didn’t want people turning off their radio or changing the station. All I could do was warn them. And sure enough, the final score of the ballgame was broadcast.
Toronto Blue Jays – 10, Philadelphia Phillies – 3
Moments later the studio phone line lit up. I ignored it until the end of the weather and the news was over. I gave control back over to the FM and started a song on the AM. Then I answered the phone. The caller was indignant that we had announced the score. And I told him that I had warned him but he didn’t call to hear that. I wanted me to know how his evening was ruined.
I got back to work. Today, this week really, I didn’t care. Normally as I said before I would be on the graveyard shift. But the afternoon jock had graciously offered to work for me my night shift as well as part of his evening shift so that I could be home at night. This was 18 years ago and Harrison had just been born. That week I started experiencing changing diapers, hours of crying, jaundice and bilirubin and just a taste of the emotions a parent feels. No amount of whining about ball games concerned me any more. The thrill of backtiming music and newscasts was nothing compared to pinning a cloth diaper on a flailing newborn. I took a while, but I grew to love the job of being a dad most of all.
Showing posts with label Radio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Radio. Show all posts
Monday, October 3, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
the Joke Tsar
I worked for a land surveyor firm for nearly four years. Aside from the physical strength needed there was a lot of skill required including the physical skill of hitting the top of an 18 inch pipe enough times so it sinks into the ground. Math skills were also needed some simple, and some very complex.
What I didn’t have in skill and strength I tried to make up for in good attitude. One of my proudest accomplishments happened while on the job one morning. But it didn’t involve the work involved.
We drove down to Canyon Lake in Riverside County just about every day. We were able to pick up our favorite radio morning show out of San Diego through its translator signal in Temecula. Without a doubt the Dave, Shelly and Chainsaw morning show is the best radio morning show I have ever heard. They are now on 100.7 Jack FM in San Diego and I listen to their podcasts at work. There are all kinds of regular games and bits they do. When they did ‘Stump the Joke Tsar’ a week ago I was reminded of that morning at work years ago.
Stump the Joke Tsar is simple enough; you call up with a joke. If Dave, the host knows it you hang up in shame. If he doesn’t know it and if the joke is funny, you win. In the summer of 2006 we were driving to the construction site listening to the radio when that contest began. I remarked that I had just read a joke in a book at the library that was pretty funny. Maybe I could call up with it. The work chief encouraged me to so I did.
The thing with radio contests is that there may be ten or twenty incoming lines into the studio with thousands of listeners trying to get through. If you have ever tried to be caller number one at a radio station you will know that your chances are not good. But I got through. I told the joke right away to Emily, who screens the calls and she put me on hold. We turned down the radio in the work truck until we could park. I got out so the rest of the crew could listen and I heard the show on hold.
The bit had been on for a few minutes and Dave, the host, the Joke Tsar, was becoming annoyed. The jokes had to be funny and none of them had been so far. This was the funniest crew I had ever heard. Dabbling in radio years before, I greatly respected folks on the radio and the idea of disappointing them scared me. Soon Dave was shouting the punchlines to the jokes before they were done and disconnecting the callers one after another. He reminded the listeners that he and Shelly and Chainsaw and the rest of the crew were hoping to lose. He was angry and disappointed so far, then suddenly I was off hold and his voice was clear.
“David, in Lake Elsinore, go ahead,” said the Joke Tsar. Another member of the show repeated: “Hello, Dave!”
“Okay, “I said as clear as I could. “Why is diarrhea hereditary?”
Dave didn’t shout at me and disconnect me. He repeated me question and then I repeated it back to him. Chris Boyer, his editor and show know-it-all said some kind of answer that I didn’t understand so I waited a second.
Dave’s voice was now relaxed and cheerful. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why is diarrhea hereditary?”
Dave not knowing was not enough; he had to say it was funny. Here it was.
I replied, “It runs in your genes.” (jeans)
Instantly there was laughter. And then they played a sound effect I had never heard. Bells clanged with an explosion a Tarzan yodel and a voice repeating “winner…winner…winner.”
They congratulated me and told me I won Eddie Money tickets. I got on the phone with Emily again and told her that I couldn’t take the tickets because I was moving that weekend. It didn’t matter though. She was a little surprised and we said goodbye.
The construction guys asked me about the Eddie Money tickets too. But they understood me too because they were fans of the show. The tickets didn’t matter. I had made the host of the best morning show in on the biggest cities in the state laugh. And that day it didn’t matter that I tended to destroy sledgehammers before driving a half dozen pipes. That was the day that I had stumped the Joke Tsar.
What I didn’t have in skill and strength I tried to make up for in good attitude. One of my proudest accomplishments happened while on the job one morning. But it didn’t involve the work involved.
We drove down to Canyon Lake in Riverside County just about every day. We were able to pick up our favorite radio morning show out of San Diego through its translator signal in Temecula. Without a doubt the Dave, Shelly and Chainsaw morning show is the best radio morning show I have ever heard. They are now on 100.7 Jack FM in San Diego and I listen to their podcasts at work. There are all kinds of regular games and bits they do. When they did ‘Stump the Joke Tsar’ a week ago I was reminded of that morning at work years ago.
Stump the Joke Tsar is simple enough; you call up with a joke. If Dave, the host knows it you hang up in shame. If he doesn’t know it and if the joke is funny, you win. In the summer of 2006 we were driving to the construction site listening to the radio when that contest began. I remarked that I had just read a joke in a book at the library that was pretty funny. Maybe I could call up with it. The work chief encouraged me to so I did.
The thing with radio contests is that there may be ten or twenty incoming lines into the studio with thousands of listeners trying to get through. If you have ever tried to be caller number one at a radio station you will know that your chances are not good. But I got through. I told the joke right away to Emily, who screens the calls and she put me on hold. We turned down the radio in the work truck until we could park. I got out so the rest of the crew could listen and I heard the show on hold.
The bit had been on for a few minutes and Dave, the host, the Joke Tsar, was becoming annoyed. The jokes had to be funny and none of them had been so far. This was the funniest crew I had ever heard. Dabbling in radio years before, I greatly respected folks on the radio and the idea of disappointing them scared me. Soon Dave was shouting the punchlines to the jokes before they were done and disconnecting the callers one after another. He reminded the listeners that he and Shelly and Chainsaw and the rest of the crew were hoping to lose. He was angry and disappointed so far, then suddenly I was off hold and his voice was clear.
“David, in Lake Elsinore, go ahead,” said the Joke Tsar. Another member of the show repeated: “Hello, Dave!”
“Okay, “I said as clear as I could. “Why is diarrhea hereditary?”
Dave didn’t shout at me and disconnect me. He repeated me question and then I repeated it back to him. Chris Boyer, his editor and show know-it-all said some kind of answer that I didn’t understand so I waited a second.
Dave’s voice was now relaxed and cheerful. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why is diarrhea hereditary?”
Dave not knowing was not enough; he had to say it was funny. Here it was.
I replied, “It runs in your genes.” (jeans)
Instantly there was laughter. And then they played a sound effect I had never heard. Bells clanged with an explosion a Tarzan yodel and a voice repeating “winner…winner…winner.”
They congratulated me and told me I won Eddie Money tickets. I got on the phone with Emily again and told her that I couldn’t take the tickets because I was moving that weekend. It didn’t matter though. She was a little surprised and we said goodbye.
The construction guys asked me about the Eddie Money tickets too. But they understood me too because they were fans of the show. The tickets didn’t matter. I had made the host of the best morning show in on the biggest cities in the state laugh. And that day it didn’t matter that I tended to destroy sledgehammers before driving a half dozen pipes. That was the day that I had stumped the Joke Tsar.
Friday, July 2, 2010
The Eddie Sales Variety Show
I slept with my radio on sometimes growing up. One very early Sunday morning I woke up and it was still dark. Listening to the radio I thought that my mind had been altered. I could suddenly understand the Filipino language program. For a long time after I thought that just that time a Babel Fish had been put in my ear only that morning. Every other morning I was up listening to KNUI radio’s Filipino radio show that played between 4:30 and 6:00. The morning folks came on at six and the rest of the day was in English. It wasn’t until I was working at KNUI years later that I learned that only on Sunday mornings the show was in English. That morning I was an engineer for The Eddie Sales Variety Show.
I had worked a week of graveyard shifts so far. The AM station played the FM automation all night and I taped commercials and changes music reels. At about four o’clock the DJ for the Filipino show would come in and set up. At 4:30 he would break the AM off from the FM and do his show for 90 minutes. I would go about my business.
Then at about 3:00 on my first Sunday morning came a different guy. The smiling little man seemed to be all eyeglasses. He told me he was Eddie Sales. (His last name was pronounced SAH-les.) When I told him how tired I was he told me to go nap and he would wake me up. I stretched out on the couch of the break room and thought what a nice guy. I didn’t expect to have to get up until his show was done.
He woke me up just before his show started. I stumbled into the AM studio to see he had set up in the newsroom. I was going to actually work the broadcast controls and master volume and start and stop records for him. I put on my headphones and pushed the microphone away. Eddie Sales went over to the newsroom. He had about four boom boxes set up and cassette tapes standing by. I pulled down the FM controls and played the Eddie Sales Variety Show introduction.
Eddie talked, played commercials on his tape decks with music he composed. He cued me to play the records. And then he played a tape of his radio drama. I cannot put into words what the radio drama was. I think Eddie had recorded it with a few lady DJ’s. His accent was so thick and the sound quality so low you could barley understand it even in the studio. Eddie’s adventures included discussing risqué topics, backrubs, and Camay soap. I realized then that this is what I heard in the early morning years ago.
I had worked a week of graveyard shifts so far. The AM station played the FM automation all night and I taped commercials and changes music reels. At about four o’clock the DJ for the Filipino show would come in and set up. At 4:30 he would break the AM off from the FM and do his show for 90 minutes. I would go about my business.
Then at about 3:00 on my first Sunday morning came a different guy. The smiling little man seemed to be all eyeglasses. He told me he was Eddie Sales. (His last name was pronounced SAH-les.) When I told him how tired I was he told me to go nap and he would wake me up. I stretched out on the couch of the break room and thought what a nice guy. I didn’t expect to have to get up until his show was done.
He woke me up just before his show started. I stumbled into the AM studio to see he had set up in the newsroom. I was going to actually work the broadcast controls and master volume and start and stop records for him. I put on my headphones and pushed the microphone away. Eddie Sales went over to the newsroom. He had about four boom boxes set up and cassette tapes standing by. I pulled down the FM controls and played the Eddie Sales Variety Show introduction.
Eddie talked, played commercials on his tape decks with music he composed. He cued me to play the records. And then he played a tape of his radio drama. I cannot put into words what the radio drama was. I think Eddie had recorded it with a few lady DJ’s. His accent was so thick and the sound quality so low you could barley understand it even in the studio. Eddie’s adventures included discussing risqué topics, backrubs, and Camay soap. I realized then that this is what I heard in the early morning years ago.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
KNUI Radio
I had a KNUI dream last night. Dreams where I am back at the radio station are the only recurring dreams I have. Usually it is night and the reels are running out and there is dead air. Last night I thought to myself ‘wow I’m always dreaming this.’
When graduated college in 1990 with a degree in Communication I went on to deliver Pizzas for half a year before moving back to Maui. After recording a public service announcement for The Baldwin Theatre Guild at KNUI radio I asked for a job. A week later I was doing weekends. Saturday afternoon I played Dick Bartley’s show over the satellite feed. The FM was automated and the AM joined up with the FM at 7 pm.
Sunday morning I played The Real Don Steele’s ‘Live from the Sixties’. It was on LP records. In the afternoon I played Dick Clark’s ‘Rock Roll and Remember’.
I started nights in April of 1991. I worked from 11 pm to 7 am. Most of the time the station was automated and I produced music reels, recorded commercials and set things up for the morning show.
The job was fun and exciting. I turned translucently pale from lack of sunshine. I barely slept weekends. I did the morning show once in a while and hearing my voice doing a commercial on the radio never got old.
I got married in 1993 and then had a son the same year. The hours got difficult. When a day shift opened up the radio station didn’t let me into it. I was right for my position. I was reliable for the graveyard shift and was a good producer. They felt I was best suited to nights and not being on the air in the days.
It was time to go.
My next job as an airport shuttle van driver paid more and was pretty fun too. It lacked the excitement and fleeting glory of coffeepot radio though. Another day I may blog about emergencies, The Eddie Sales Variety Show, strange phone calls and more.
It was a fun chunk of my young life.
When graduated college in 1990 with a degree in Communication I went on to deliver Pizzas for half a year before moving back to Maui. After recording a public service announcement for The Baldwin Theatre Guild at KNUI radio I asked for a job. A week later I was doing weekends. Saturday afternoon I played Dick Bartley’s show over the satellite feed. The FM was automated and the AM joined up with the FM at 7 pm.
Sunday morning I played The Real Don Steele’s ‘Live from the Sixties’. It was on LP records. In the afternoon I played Dick Clark’s ‘Rock Roll and Remember’.
I started nights in April of 1991. I worked from 11 pm to 7 am. Most of the time the station was automated and I produced music reels, recorded commercials and set things up for the morning show.
The job was fun and exciting. I turned translucently pale from lack of sunshine. I barely slept weekends. I did the morning show once in a while and hearing my voice doing a commercial on the radio never got old.
I got married in 1993 and then had a son the same year. The hours got difficult. When a day shift opened up the radio station didn’t let me into it. I was right for my position. I was reliable for the graveyard shift and was a good producer. They felt I was best suited to nights and not being on the air in the days.
It was time to go.
My next job as an airport shuttle van driver paid more and was pretty fun too. It lacked the excitement and fleeting glory of coffeepot radio though. Another day I may blog about emergencies, The Eddie Sales Variety Show, strange phone calls and more.
It was a fun chunk of my young life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)