Radio Days, Part I

Radio Days, Sort Of

           Last week, social media celebrated National DJ Day. What, indeed, is a DJ? A disc jockey. Someone who spins records. It’s all I have ever wanted to do with my life!

           My parents set up two turntables, a microphone, and a tape deck for me when I was just a preschooler, which fed my lifelong passion.

           I wanted to be a disc jockey when I grew up.

           Music geek that I am, from earliest memory I was quoting facts and figures from Billboard and Rolling Stone. I could tell you the backup musicians, the side men, the track listing on sides A and B, the record company that released the album (or single), who wrote the songs, and what A&R man signed them.

           Finally, a chance mid-1990s encounter with the brother of a PD (that’s Program Director, fellow babies) changed my life. This Program Director, Doc Kirby, gave me the opportunity to hone my craft after hours on WTBF-AM & FM in Troy, when the transmitter radiated all the power of a hair dryer.

           Over the next decade, I worked all kinds of shifts and remotes, spun records, wrote and produced commercials, and worked on promotions in the after school and weekend work hours. 

           There are many stories to share, but a memorable one crossed my mind this week.

           One time, our station was promoting a new Paul McCartney LP, and we did a couple of days of all-Paul playlists. I had the chance to see Sir Paul on his tour that year, and was excited to work out a deal with the local record store and Paul’s label.

           I found myself on the telephone with a rep at Capitol Records – that famous stack-of-records-shaped building at Hollywood and Vine, home of so many storied recording sessions. This person was my contact for free merchandise to give away in trivia contests, but decided to give me the contact number of Macca’s manager in New York City.

           Not knowing any better, I called him. 

As it turned out, he was in New York, all right – on his cell phone. I asked my idol’s manager for free T-shirts and records. He exploded when he found out that a girl in Hollywood had given me his private number, and before angrily hanging up on me, unleashed a profanity-laden rant and told me that the girl at Capitol was about to be fired.

Who said dreams don’t come true? I got the giveaway merchandise anyway, and the promotion was a success for WTBF.

           Also at WTBF a few years later, the Troy University Trojans appeared in the San Diego County Community Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl – or whatever the name of it was. All I knew was that Troy had been invited to a bowl game in California.

           I was selected to run the board during the broadcast, as it was Christmas week and many of the college students who normally worked were out of town.

           From the beginning, the broadcast was plagued with one mishap after another. Qualcomm Stadium was deluged with rain. ESPN’s audio equipment malfunctioned, which disrupted their television transmission. Soon, without our knowledge, ESPN picked up our signal to use as their audio.

           Within an hour of kickoff, I was operating Master Control for the Troy University Radio Network – and ESPN.

           One of my co-workers, the morning show sidekick (and perhaps the most popular disc jockey at the station), came by to pitch in at Master Control when he heard what we called “dead air,” where there is no sound. We were scrambling to stay on air.

I was filling all the spaces with songs like “It Never Rains in Southern California” and “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” No one seemed to find the irony in either tune.

ESPN phoned and explained that we were the only audio they had, and we were now being carried nationally. I was so puffed up when thinking of my new coast-to-coast audience, I did not pay attention when the hotline would ring, my co-worker would answer it, then abruptly hang up.

Finally, I asked him who was calling.

“Someone named Bristol,” he said. “They keep saying they can’t hear the game.”

Bristol, I thought. Bristol, Connecticut – home base of ESPN – we were causing the national audio feed to go silent! No wonder they were calling. I got them back on line in a hurry.

We made it through the evening, but by the time the game actually ended, it was way too late for listeners on this side of the country to still maintain an interest. But even with the passage of time, I’m still proud of my small role in the broadcast of Troy’s first-ever Division I bowl game.

Michael Bird is still making mistakes on the radio every Saturday morning on WACQ-AM 580 & FM 98.5.