Author Archives: Steve Mays
How far would you walk for a cup of Rocket Fuel?
5.1 miles according to Google Maps. And — as Google predicted– it took just about 1 hour and 40 minutes.
The battery on my 12 year old 4 Runner conked out Sunday evening. A neighbor jumped me and I dropped the car at the local Toyota dealer. This morning I could have called someone for a lift to work but that would have meant missing my visit to the Coffee Zone.
So I set out on foot just before 6 a.m., with a sign taped to my back that read: “Latte for a ride.” I figured I’d get a ride in no time. Seriously, I thought it was cute (but later learned it was just creepy). I left just before 6 a.m.
Big strong men in pick-up trucks passed me by. They were either afraid of me or just didn’t give a shit.
90 minutes later I arrived at the Coffee Zone, sweaty with two quarter-sized blisters on the bottom of my feet. When the oil is all gone I’ll be able to ride a bike down the middle of the street.
Do you have anything in first class?
During our brief chat this morning, my brother told me of a recent trip he and a co-worker took from one Indonesian city to another. Half-way through the 12-hour train ride, the lights went out. The crowded car was pitch black. A trip to the toilet involved trying not to step on the people who were sleeping in the aisle (or the rats and cockroaches).
On the return trip, they opted for the bus. There’s the regular bus which allows you to bring small farm animals aboard… and the “Executive” bus which does not. They chose the latter.
The most exciting part of the trip never happened. As they sat on the train, waiting for it to leave the station, two men got on, stowed their luggage, and then got off. My brother and his companion agreed they would get off the train if the men were not back on by the time it departed.
Taisir Yanis: Great American!
Tape and resume requested
During my radio days (70’s and early 80’s) it was common practice to check the job listings in the back of Broadcasting (a trade publication) to see who was hiring. (The main reason station managers didn’t leave the magazine lying round.) Most of those ads ended with “Tape and resume requested.”
The tape was also called an “air check” and usually worked something like this:
Let’s say I did a four hour air shift each afternoon. I would record it and later edit out everything except the parts where I was saying something clever or –at the very least– saying something in a deep, resonant voice.
If I was doing a record show, my air check consisted primarily of my introductions to songs. This was in the day when the DJ “talked over” the instrumental intro to a song and it was considered something of a skill to be able to chatter mindlessly right up the instant the vocal started. DJ’s prided themselves in knowing the exact length of the intros to popular songs.
So the air check –once it had been “telescoped”– had this weird “this is/that was” quality. I did a lot of air checks and they always reminded me of how little I was actually adding to the listeners’ experience.
And the voice was important back in those days. Deep, full, rich voices were highly prized. “What” you said was considered less important than “how” you said it. “Good pipes” were much in demand.
And many (most?) DJ’s had this strange, over-modulated, swallow-your-words way of talking. I’d give you an audio example but it’s too painful and embarrassing to recall.
It’s a short hop from one of those telescoped air checks to the realization that –with the new computers and software– a DJ could record his or her part of that four hour air shift in far less time. Which would mean we could cover more air shfits with fewer DJ’s and take all that money to the bank.
As the cost of satellite distribution came down, group owners figured out they could have a few talented folks in one part of the country “voice track” shows for LOTS of radio stations. Even more savings.
I remember spinning records for 5 or 6 hours at a time, and thinking this is not a good use of my great talent. But I’m really glad I didn’t miss that part of the radio experience. Going into a studio to voice-track several hours of “my show” would seem to be very… unsatisfying. Like being a sperm donor.
I don’t know what it’s like working at a radio station these days. I hope it’s still fun. I remember Charlie Earls (the owner of our station) saying something along the lines of: “If we make enough money to pay the bills, and have fun in the process, that’s a good deal.”
I’m thinking you don’t hear that much anymore.