I’m still mindlessly surfing the channels. They give you a little remote so you’re less likely to crash while doing this. I really like the…what do we call them? Jocks? DJ’s? Talent? They’re there, but not too there. I’ve noticed that I’m driving less aggressively. In less of a hurry. No doubt, because I am enjoying my time in the car more. Early favorites: Fred, Top Tracks, The Joint, Soul Street, The Groove, CNN Headline News.
Douglas Rushkoff on AOL
“AOL never had a future. AOL was a training ground. An introduction to the Internet for people who didn’t know how to deal with ftp protocols. None of us thought it could last, because once the technological barriers to entry for the Internet had been lowered, no one would need AOL’s simplistic interface or it’s child-safe, digital content wading pools. People would want to get on the *real* Internet, using real browsers and email programs.” — Douglas Rushkoff
Beyond AM. Beyond FM.
I subscribed to XM Satellite Radio today. The idea of “subscribing” to radio still feels a little funny. I got in the car, turned it on and punched up one of the 100 channels. It was Jimi Hendrix singing “Like A Rolling Stone” from the Monterey Pop Festival. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard that version on the radio before. It’s too early to offer any useful comments on the service because I was punching through the channels like Tom Hanks running through the toy story in Big. A snippet of an interview with Melissa Etheridge interview on the E! channel… a rousing gospel (soul, not country) number on one of the Urban channels… CNN Headline news. I had to stop and come inside. I have a few long road trips coming up so I can really evaluate the service. Oh, the audio quality was pretty amazing. Stay tuned.
Lesbian Chat Rooms
They delivered our new refrigerator a few days ago. The guy in charge was in his mid-30s, early-40s. The younger guy was a sophomore in high school. As they wrestled the box down from the pick-up truck, I asked the young guy if he’d rather be online. “You bet he would!” , said the older guy. “So would you,” offered the teenager. I asked the older guy how he spent his time online and –before he could answer– his assistant said: “Lesbian Chat Rooms.” The older guys jumped in with something like, “You mind your own business now.” It was a topic they had discussed previously.
Now, I’m as fascinated by Lesbians as any other heterosexual male, but my first thought was: The Internet is here to stay. When the guys (representing two generations) delivering my refrigerator spend enough time online to make their way to the Lesbian chat rooms… well, this just isn’t a fad. The Net has achieved penetration.
XM Satellite Radio
Next Tuesday I’m scheduled to have an XM satellite radio installed in my 4-Runner. If you haven’t seen the TV commercials or billboards, it’s a new subscription radio service that offers 100 plus channels of digital music and information for about 10 bucks a month. The line-up of news channels is pretty amazing: USA Today, Fox News, CNN Headline News, Weather Channel, CNBC, BBC, C-Span. I don’t know anyone that has the service yet and that sort of surprises me.
The parallels to cable TV are obvious. I remember when cable was first introduced and people asked, “Why would you pay for TV when you can get it for free?!” The answer seems equally obvious these days. HBO alone gives me Band of Brothers, The Soproanos, Six Feet Under, Sex and the City, Oz, The Wire, Dennis Miller and on and on. I have no idea if satellite radio will catch on. Or what impact –if any– it might have on traditional radio.
For me it’s about choices. The Web has spoiled me in this regard. I don’t want to listen to what “most of the people” want to listen to. I want to listen to what I want to (know many good reggae stations?). And I’ll pay to do so. On a recent 15 hour drive from Florida to Missouri, I found a few radio stations I liked but I quickly drove out of range and back into “radio wasteland.” I never really thought Internet radio was much of a challenge to traditional radio. I’m not so sure about this.
July 19, 1947
Radio station KBOA went on the air on July 19, 1947. Today, 55 years later, that station doesn’t really exist anymore. Frequencies have been sold and shifted, call letters transferred. But the station’s early days make a great story. Five years ago I created a website in an effort to preserve some of that history. My father worked at the station for 30+ years and I worked there for a dozen. I recently came across recordings of jingles, old commercials, and oral histories by the men who put the station on the air.
It was a time when radio shows had names (Noonday Serenade, Rise and Shine, Old Camp Meetin’ Time) and commercials were read live or recorded on huge discs. The recently unearthed interviews offer a unique insight into the time, the people and the communities they served.
Internet of things
“One day every possession will be tagged, and a radio signal will reveal the location of every object. That’s my dream. In the meantime, I’m going to attach my web address to everything valuable that might get lost.”
— Nick Denton has a dream and a good idea.
Mr. Rudy
Mr. Rudy will celebrate his 81st birthday this month. He calls himself “The World’s Oldest Disc Jockey” and it could very well be true. He got his first announcing job in 1946 at WLOF in Orlando, Florida. What’s that…56 years? I don’t think he’s been on the air continuously but he was never off for long and always near the edges. I stopped by (they’ve messed with the call letters and frequencies so much I can’t tell what’s what) in Kennett, Missouri, a few weeks ago and stood in the back of the studio while he finished his shift. I can safely say there is nobody else on the air doing the same kind of radio as Mr. Rudy. He’s celebrating his birthday by performing with, The Redneck Rhythm Rangers at the Kennett American Legion Building. (Musical footnote: one of the musicians is Wendell Crow, father of Sheryl).
Never too hot for a Kool.
Something new on the smoking scene. New to me, at least. On a recent trip to Florida I walked to a nearby supermarket. The temp was in the upper 90’s and some of the employees were taking their cigarette break (just outside the entrance, of course). Rather than stand there puffing in the heat and humidity, someone had pulled their van up and parked it just outside the entrance to the supermarket. The sliding door was open and the AC was blasting. They even had a little cooler for drinks. They seemed to be taking turns crawling into the van to cool off. It was like a little nicotine tail-gate party.
The Torrent
“Picture a very swift torrent, a river rushing down between rocky walls. There is a long, shallow bar of sand and gravel that runs right down the middle of the river. It is under water. You are born and you have to stand on that narrow, submerged bar, where everyone stands. The ones born before you, the ones older than you, are upriver from you. The younger one stand braced on the bar downriver. And the whole long bar is slowly moving down that river of time, washing away at the upstream end and building up downstream.
Your time, the time of all your contemporaries, schoolmates, your loves and your adversaries, is that part of the shifting bar on which you stand. And it is crowded at first. You can see the way it thins out, upstream from you. The old ones are washed away and their bodies go swiftly buy, like logs in the current. Downstream where the younger ones stand thick, you can see them flounder, lose footing, wash away. Always there is more room where you stand, but always the swift water grows deeper, and you feel the shift of the sand and the gravel under your feet as the river wears it away. Someone looking for a safer place to stand can nudge you off balance, and you are gone. Someone who has stood beside you for a long time gives a forlorn cry and you reach to catch their hand, but the fingertips slide away and they are gone. There are the sounds in the rocky gorge, the roar of the water, the shifting, gritty sound of the sand and the gravel underfoot, the forlorn cries of despair as the nearby ones, and the ones upstream, are taken by the current. Some old ones who stand on a good place, well braced, understanding currents and balance, last a long time. Far downstream from you are the thin, startled cries of the ones who never got planted, never got set, never quite understood the message of the torrent.”
–From John D. MacDonald’s Pale Gray for Guilt