Saturday, May 31, 2003
A Small Truth about doing radio at WFMU
The occasional person outside of WFMU staff & listeners who encourages me to take on a weekly radio show again is idealizing it merely as a cool thing; the encouragement is nearly always given by someone who has never done radio & is also likely to find some reason or other for not even listening to the internet archive if I did take on the responsibility.
The most recent time this happened, I invited the person to observe me during a two hour fill-in on Sunday Night for Rob Weisberg, from 8 to 10, as a way of dispelling the mystery. She'd see first hand that Montgomery Street in Jersey City is deserted. Vistors aren't allowed in the music library. Small Change - not hiply dressed for club DJing - wants to finish his online setlist & go have supper. He greets me, slides over the clipboard holding the officlal log, & reports that there aren't any technical problems. I write my name & the time on the log & now he's free to leave. There's no audience in Studio A. The phones rarely ring. Bethany Ryker, the next host, is wading through several hundred CDs in the new bin. The one or two other staffers in the building are quietly doing whatever they came to do. I come prepared with a well-organized show I think Rob would appreciate, air a few novelties, no clowning around on mic, enjoy myself. The trip home is late, boring & i'm tired & hungry. My friend declined to come along. Afterward, she left a message on my answering machine, "I heard the Beach Boys." That song kicked off the final twenty minutes of the program. She hadn't heard anything before it because she had to help her brother fix something in the basement.
I wasn't angry & I didn't blame her, although the very first song I'd aired after 8 PM was for her. But it proved something nonetheless: Why one doesn't do a program to satisfy friends who think it's cool to be on the radio.
Visit: http://www.wfmu.org
"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson
The occasional person outside of WFMU staff & listeners who encourages me to take on a weekly radio show again is idealizing it merely as a cool thing; the encouragement is nearly always given by someone who has never done radio & is also likely to find some reason or other for not even listening to the internet archive if I did take on the responsibility.
The most recent time this happened, I invited the person to observe me during a two hour fill-in on Sunday Night for Rob Weisberg, from 8 to 10, as a way of dispelling the mystery. She'd see first hand that Montgomery Street in Jersey City is deserted. Vistors aren't allowed in the music library. Small Change - not hiply dressed for club DJing - wants to finish his online setlist & go have supper. He greets me, slides over the clipboard holding the officlal log, & reports that there aren't any technical problems. I write my name & the time on the log & now he's free to leave. There's no audience in Studio A. The phones rarely ring. Bethany Ryker, the next host, is wading through several hundred CDs in the new bin. The one or two other staffers in the building are quietly doing whatever they came to do. I come prepared with a well-organized show I think Rob would appreciate, air a few novelties, no clowning around on mic, enjoy myself. The trip home is late, boring & i'm tired & hungry. My friend declined to come along. Afterward, she left a message on my answering machine, "I heard the Beach Boys." That song kicked off the final twenty minutes of the program. She hadn't heard anything before it because she had to help her brother fix something in the basement.
I wasn't angry & I didn't blame her, although the very first song I'd aired after 8 PM was for her. But it proved something nonetheless: Why one doesn't do a program to satisfy friends who think it's cool to be on the radio.
Visit: http://www.wfmu.org
