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Posted by Rob Sherwood   •   Friday, 2009-July-31 • 09:04
The weather is crap. At least it is if you want sun and warmth. Actually, these gray cool days remind me of San Francisco and I actually like that kind of weather. My brother wants to play golf, though, so for him I will wish for nicer weather.
When you have spent some time 'doing things', my usual routine of 'doing nothing' isn't much fun. I've been bored as hell for the last two days. Today I'm going to WalMart. Golly! I live the fast life.
I was listening to the radio and was reminded of ever jock's nightmare. For those who have never been behind the mike, there is a basic fact of radio every DJ must understand. The DJ has to assume there is someone listening. No one applauds when you hit the post. Nobody laughs when you deliver the punch line. When you read the liners, there aren't any awes from the radio audience peanut gallery.
Exception!! The current trend of studio audiences and side-kicks assuage this feeling of loneliness. When you have a couple of people in the studio with you there is feedback. Instant feedback. If you are paying them...good feedback.
Every station I've worked at had one fast rule. NO VISITORS IN THE STUDIO. Is there any rule in radio, violated more? Taking a chance on your job, or at least, boss displeasure, is worth having an audience.
So, kudos to the DJ who labors alone in a studio, whispering or shouting into a microphone connected by some electronic magic to someone who laughs, awes, and applauds. We hope.
And then something happens that breaks this fragile connection.
Yesterday, I was listening to the radio and the DJ had some Minnesota Twins tickets to give away. Granted, the game was that same night and in Minneapolis, 130 miles away, but still...these were 4 damn good tickets. "Be caller number 10!" How many times have we said those words? "Be caller number 10!"
About 40 minutes later, the DJ said, "We still have those Twins tickets....call now and be caller number 5."

Suicide!

The few times this happened to me I was ready to walk out the door and do what my parents wanted. The lack of response to an on-the-air-plea is an ego deflating situation that ranks right up there with: "We're letting you go.", "You're IQ is 94.", "Let's just be friends", and "Is it in?"

It has happened to me. I really wonder if there was ever a moment while I was 'talking on the radio' when there was no one...not one living soul....listening? It seemed like it.

WAIT! The phone is blinking! Forget it. It was the fucking PD on the red line.
  1. daveg wrote on 2009-July-31 15:22:07:
    Rob, I have enjoyed all the chapters of your story. However, I have waited for you to fix Chapter 25. When I click on it comes up Chapter 26. Please make the change so I can read it. Please do a Chapter 27 soon. David from Long Beach, Ca
  2. MBiolo wrote on 2009-August-02 10:52:37:
    I rather like the cool weather myself. I have never been a fan of the hot humid days that sometimes come our way in July and August. I could never be a Floridian and I only visit Hawaii in the winter.

    I don't know that I ever felt like nobody was listening. God knows there were times when I hoped nobody was listening! And those times were, almost without fail, followed immediately by the hot line blinking like some sun spot gone wild. Still, how embarrassing not to get a tenth caller for a give away. I would never have done what that jock did though. I would have given the damn things to caller #3, telling them "Congratulations! You're the tenth caller!" just to keep from answering the phone in the first place. Had that failed, I'd just throw the damn tickets away and be done with it.
  3. cindic wrote on 2009-August-04 19:30:31:
    Caller's nightmare -- waiting 30 minutes or 45 minutes or so -- doing homework or reading or nothing at all while waiting for the phone to be answered so I could request Paul Revere and the Raiders or the Beatles (but never was Bobby Sherman) and then here comes a contest. Caller number 3, you need to be caller number 10. Call back. All circuits busy … all circuits busy … all circuits … forget it -- mom's so mad at me for hogging the phone line that "don't touch that dial" takes on a whole new meaning -- for the rest of the week. Cindi (aka Whoopie Woman)
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