The Shilo was a honky-tonk. Like a dozen other in Kennett at the time. But when Don Akers brought his band (Scandal?) back to Kennett and became the “house band,” The Shilo was something more. It was Hot & Nasty and The Disco King. It was Foosball. And when Don and Suzy and the band took the stage… it just rocked.
Thirty years ago (during my KBOA days) I was attending the annual meeting of the National Association of Broadcasters. Lots of big name talent on hand, including Don Imus and Robert W. Morgan. I spotted them sitting at the bar (the Mint Julip according to the bar napkin) and couldn’t resist going over, introducing myself, and asking for their autographs (I know, I know). They saw my name tag and asked me what station I was with. I assured them they’d never heard of it. Then Imus asked how long I had worked there.
“About ten years,” I said. To which Imus replied, “If you’ve stayed at one little radio station for ten years without getting fired or quitting, you’ll never go anywhere in this business. You should pack it in.”
Robert W. Morgan thought that was a little harsh and told Imus so. I made my escape. I thought about it many times over the years and Imus was right. There are a million small town radio guys who lack the talent or the ambition or both to make it to the Bigs. I’m proud to have been one of them.
Larry Thomason died today. He was having some kind of routine surgery and his heart stopped. I’ve known Larry Joe since high school and he was a big part of The Basement Diaries. Great poker player. Good photographer. Loved politics.
The incoming rounds are getting closer.
Barb
Ripley
Family
Friends
Health
Hope
Faith
Prosperity
Job
Home
Peace
In 1987, Jeff Salzman co-authored a little book entitled: Real World 101: How to Find a Job, Get Ahead, Do It Now, and Love It! A year or two later, Salzman spoke to a small group of our company managers and told what I think might be the best management story I ever heard.
It’s the story of a Tastee Freeze, the man who cleaned it and his boss. To insure the Tastee Freeze was cleaned properly, the manager made a list of all the necessary cleaning products and tools; drew up a little chart showing where everything in the supply closet went (color coded); and made a numbered list of the proper order for cleaning the Tastee Freeze. He couldn’t understand why the cleaning guy had trouble following his carefully thought out plan.
One day a new manager showed up at the Tastee Freeze and asked the cleaning guy what he did at the Tastee Freeze. The cleaning guy showed him the precisely organized supply closet; the list of approved mops and buckets; and the printed list of steps for cleaning the Tastee Freeze.
The new manager immediately tore up the lists and told the cleaning guy, “Look, I just want the cleanest Tastee Freeze in town. I don’t care how you do it or what supplies you use. If you run into a snag, let me know and I’ll try to help.”
I must confess that I was too often the first type of manager during the 25 years I “managed” others. All I really wanted was a clean Tastee Freeze but it was so much fun to pick out the mops and make the lists. Alas.
I haven’t seen Jackie Cash in thirty (thirty-five?) years. She was a year behind me in high school and I had a bit of a crush on her. She found her way to a couple of my websites last week:
“…we watched her nephews Everett and Matthew sing about Rudy and then she read every word about KBOA the early days. She really enjoyed it. You have a 20 minute interview with Paul about the radio and it was neat for them to hear his voice and share it with Robin’s children who never knew Mr. Jones. I just thought you’d like to know how you’re reaching people.”
This is, for me, the reason we spend countless hours constructing these websites. In hopes that somebody will find them and find them interesting. (Why has the “letter-in-a-bottle” analogy never occurred to me before?)
As I read Jackie’s email, the image I had of her was the high school girl I knew. And then I realized that she is now in her early fifties and –probably– older than her mother was when we were in high school. I confess to a strange sense of loss that’s hard to explain. My youth, perhaps.
I put in the Wi-Fi here at home a month or so back but haven’t used it much. Not quite as snappy as the Ethernet connection. But I’m in my big easy chair and it’s kind of nice to be unplugged. More of a psychological freedom than actual.
“Rush H. III has been selected as the name for a son, born to Mr. and Mrs. Rush H. Limbaugh Jr., 412 Sunset Boulevard, at 7:50 a.m. Friday at Southeast Missouri Hospital. The child is the first in the family and weighed 7 pounds 6 ounces. Mrs. Limbaugh was formerly Miss Mildred Armstrong, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. G. A. Armstrong of Kennett. Mr. Limbaugh is associated with his father in the law firm of Limbaugh & Limbaugh.”
From a Rush Limbaugh fan site. I can’t verify it, but I’m pretty sure Mildred worked at KBOA back in the early fifties.
“In August of 1990, I received a call from the organizers of the Hornersville Sesquicentennial Celebration. They were looking for cheap entertainment and wanted my barbershop quartet. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), that quartet was defunct. What about cowboy songs instead?, I asked. Cowboy songs would be just fine.”
From The Secret Origins of The Sons of the Western Bootheel. I’ve created a little “fan page” although I’m not sure one performance qualifies me as a fan. Download and listen to some of the songs. The guys are pretty good and there’s a real honesty to thier music.
I have to do some more homework before I can take a stab at explaining RSS but Chris Pirillo says it’s the next big thing and few people understand the online world better. My friend John insists he’s disappointed when he takes the time to check this journal only to find there’s nothing new. RSS makes it possible for him to be alerted (NOT by email) when this page –or others– is updated. More to come.
