Gerry and Barbi Benton at the Playboy Mansion (70s)
Walls And Bridges
10/13/1995
It was 20 years ago today…Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play…
More like 25, I guess, but time flies when you’re having fun.
In the space of a few short weeks, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band, or as some know them, The Beatles, will have a revival. Not that their music ever died. The remaining Beatles are releasing a new album on Capitol next month in conjunction with a television special. The anticipation has already begun and will build to a fever pitch by showtime.
Who would have thought it when they were first signed? A four-piece band playing pubs in Liverpool would become the greatest musical event ever. Nearly 30 years after their first release, The Beatles still rock. Several of their albums go Gold every year. Their catalogue accounts for a huge percentage of Capitol’s yearly sales. All of this from a group that stopped recording together in 1969.
Together, John Lennon and Paul McCartney formed the most prolific songwriting team in the history of music. Not only did they write hits, but their songs changed the face of music. The same guys who wrote “I Want To Hold Your Hand†also wrote “A Day In The Life. “ They wrote “I Saw Her Standing There†and “Eleanor Rigby.â€Â Go figure.
Their recording techniques were way pas the cutting edge. They introduced feedback, overdubbing, backward masking and a ton of other recoding innovations long before anyone else ever thought about them. Today, studios routinely use 48-track machines. The Beatles did all their creating on four.
Amazing.
I first heard The Beatles when I was in junior high school. When I saw them on The Ed Sullivan Show, I was done. I bought a guitar, grew my hair long and was first accused of being, what they called in the South, a juvenile delinquent. My father called me a reprobate. I didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded cool.
I got to meet my favorite Beatle (everyone had a favorite) some years later. I was, coincidently, in New York at a Billboard convention. It was about midnight and I was in bed in my room when the phone rang. Al Coury, then VP Promotion for Capitol Records, was on the line, inviting me to the lobby for a drink. I was programming KHJ Los Angeles at the time and I figured Al was all revved up to hammer me on the latest Anne Murray cover. I quickly refused, citing exhaustion as a lame excuse.
Al said, “Aw, that’s too bad, Gerry. I was going to take you over to the Record Plant and introduce you to John Lennon.â€
I was in the lobby in three minutes.
John Lennon, my favorite Beatle (did I already say that?), was deep, deep undercover at the time. He was dodging extradition from the U.S. and had been hiding out in New York City. Few had seen him in the previous years.
Standing in the lobby, waiting for a cab, I was as nervous as a schoolboy on his first date. My breath was shallow, my heart was pounding in my chest, my face was flushed and I was using all my energy to pretend I didn’t really care. Those emotions were minor compared to what was coming.
Al introduced me to an agitated John Lennon in the studio where they were mixing the Walls And Bridges album. Lennon shook my hand quickly and told me to have a seat on the couch. Al stepped outside and I sat there in a coma, listening to John argue with the engineer about how the sax should be mixed. He wanted it high, the engineer wanted it low. I was in heaven.
Suddenly, Lennon swung around toward me and said, “What do you think, Gerry?â€
I almost wet my pants. “Loud,†I managed. Like I was going to disagree with John Lennon.
He clapped his hands and shouted. “Fine then, we’ll let you mix it.â€
It was the start of a long friendship.
Several months later, Paul Drew and I were discussing who would fill in for the KHJ morning man while he was on vacation. Drew suggested asking recording stars to host. This was long before acts appeared on Top 40 stations. It had never been done before.
I called record companies and managers for days. No luck. Nobody wanted to do it.
So I called John…not to ask him. Certainly John Lennon wouldn’t want to be a deejay, but to get his advice.
He said, “I’d love to do it.â€
We spread the word that John Lennon (who hadn’t done a public appearance in years) would be on the station and everyone who had said no originally quickly changed their minds. I had to give the morning man an extra week off to accommodate all of them. The tapes of John’s show are unbelievable. His appearance made national news. Coury never forgave me for wearing a Warner Bros. jacket when NBC televised it.
The unique thing about this was that John didn’t do it for publicity or for a hidden agenda. He did it to help a friend.
Before going on the air, he wrote me a letter listing his favorite records of all time, asking if he could play some of them. (Like I’m going to disagree with John Lennon!) I still have the letter. Some people say it’s worth a lot of money. To me, it’s priceless.
I spent a lot of time with John after that. I was the booth when he did his famous Monday Night Football interview with Howard Cosell, was thrown out of the Troubadour with him when he put a Kotex on his head, listened for hours as he worked with Phi Spector on the Shaved Fish album and was there the night “someone†went berserk and shot up the A&M studio. I drove him home after the incident.
It was the last time I saw him.
There are other stories to tell, but we’ve got time for that later.
This week, Hollywood Records released a tribute album of John Lennon songs entitled Working Class Hero. It’s featured on our cover. There’s also an interview with Lindy Goetz, the executive producer.
The album, and the season, have made me more than a little nostalgic. Maybe it’s the full moon. Maybe it’s the Billboard convention. I haven’t been to one since I met John Lennon.
How could I top that?
I can’t imagine.
Who Cares?
4/26/1996
Three weeks ago, when I sat down to create another “mindless†Editorial, I had no idea that what I was creating was a mini-series. Given the success of Jerry Seinfeld’s TV sitcom about nothing, I should have known better. So, “Why Is It?†brought a rebuttal by the staff, using A/C Editor Tiffany Eason as their shield, called, “Why It Is.†So many of you lame-ohs who read this trash have written in with your own comments that I felt obligated to retort with the third, and final, chapter, aptly entitled, “Who Cares?â€
Why is it that Tiffany Eason still has her job?
Why do the elected politicians pontificate about down-sizing the federal budget, yet still haven’t enacted a tax cut?
Why is it that many in our industry enjoy talking behind others’ backs instead of to their faces?
Why is it that someone hasn’t written a book about what one person says about the other after the phone call has ended?
Why is it that the most popular car color is white?
Why is it that when someone has a booger in his or her nose, nobody points it out (except to others behind the person’s back)?
Why is it that most people who criticize me for being too skinny are overweight?
Why is it that people tip when service sucks?
Why is it that women with mustaches don’t shave?
Why is it that men with mustaches don’t shave?
Why is it that I never wonder, wonder who (da do do do), who wrote the book of love?
Why is it that the grass is always greener on the other side of the road?
Why is it that many in our industry, when asked how they are, answer depending on the number of adds they got or how high their ratings went?
Why is it that some programmers act as if their radio station will never be sold or change formats?
Why is it that, despite protests to the contrary, some people never change?
Why is it that some people mellow out and a chosen few are still crazy after all these years?
Why is it that men don’t send roses to women any more?
Why is it that not one single person in the United States is making more money than they think they are worth?
Why is it that those without contracts can’t understand why their company won’t offer one, and those with contracts can’t understand why their company won’t release them for a better offer?
Why is it that the United States is the only country in the civilized world where the person who brings a lawsuit and loses isn’t obligated to pay court and damage costs?
Why is it that the open door button on an elevator always works, but the close door button never does?
Why is it that many people who have handicapped parking plates aren’t handicapped?
Why is it that when somebody starts a conversation with, “Boy, have I go a good deal for you,†you know it isn’t?
Why is it that some people win money in Las Vegas?
Why is it that some people just don’t get it?
Why is it that people who are on their car phone insist on telling you about the idiot who just cut them off?
Why is it that I’ve never met Tom, Dick or Harry?
Why is it that everybody has a can’t-lose tip at the race track, yet nobody ever wins?
Why is that nobody’s wife really understands him?
Why is it that most women wear make-up, yet most men need it more?
Why is it that there is no such thing as a good nose job?
Why is it that some people insist on wearing sunglasses after dark?
Why is it that when I’m up to $100 on the blackjack table, the guy sitting third base hits a 16 when the dealer has a four showing?
Why is it that the hardest thing to get someone to say is, “I don’t know?â€
Why is it that everything that tastes good is ultimately bad for you?
Why is it that people who yell are the same ones who hate to get yelled at?
Why is it that all she wants to do is dance?
Why is it that I can’t play the guitar like Eric Clapton?
Why is it that enough money to live on is always just a little more than you make?
Why is it that common courtesy isn’t practiced anywhere anymore?
Why is it that your intelligence is often perceived to be in direct proportion to the part of the country you’re speaking in?
Why is it that many who can’t make it programming one radio station are hired by others to consult?
Why is it that those who can, do and those who can’t, don’t?
Why is it that more people watch sports than play them?
Why is it that we can send people to the moon, yet we can’t get ketchup to pour out of a bottle?
Why is it that preventive medicine isn’t practiced by more people?
Why is it that the first cut is always the deepest?
Why is it that when I’m late, the plane always leaves on time, yet when I’m early, the plane always leaves late?
Why is it that we spend billions on public transportation, but nobody rides the bus?
Why is it that people would prefer to say maybe, when they really know the answer is no?
Why is it that computers are completely obsolete after a couple of years?
Why is it that we can’t breathe underwater?
Why is it that everything tastes better fried?
Why is it that, as far as the Network 40 staff is concerned, the fish are always in the trees.
Who Knows?
3/21/1997
The industry was talking about a bunch of things this week:Â The Network 40 Summer Games, The Monitor backing off its dictatorial edict and a joint study commissioned by the Recording Industry Association of America and the National Association of Recording Merchandisers.
The 1997 Network 40 Summer Games is the most exciting thing that has happened in our industry. By the time you read this, it will be sold out. It’s covered extensively in other parts of the magazine.
The Monitor, after having to shut off their fax machines because so many copies of the Network 40 Editorial about their stance was flooding their offices, made a Solomon decision by cutting the baby in half. However, to their credit, it shows they’ve begun to listen…and certainly to read.
That leaves us with the study released by NARM and RIAA. In a nutshell, the results of the research showed, among other things, that MTV and radio airplay is playing a smaller role in influencing potential record buyers.
Although we applaud any attempt to find new and innovative ways to stimulate record sales, the results of this particular research project are not in sync with many others. This research was done with a focus group of only 80 people. I have no idea what criteria was used, but it couldn’t be representative of the majority of record buyers.
The studies I have seen basically show the opposite. I have never seen a research project that didn’t reveal that most record buyers (well over 90%) are directly influenced by radio airplay. Although specific events (AMAs, Grammy Awards etc.) stimulate record sales, these are sales of familiar product already receiving airplay.
It is no secret that record companies spend millions of dollars to get radio airplay. It’s done for a reason. Airplay is the primary motivator of record sales.
MTV? That’s another story. Research can’t really pinpoint MTV’s overall effectiveness, but there is no doubting the power of the medium on certain projects. It has long been a position taken by many in radio that it’s not MTV, but MTV’s influence on radio airplay that stimulates sales. By that, I mean record companies use an add on MTV as ammunition to get additional radio airplay, thereby simulating sales.
Although this is certainly true in many cases, there are specific instances where MTV, and MTV alone, is responsible for drastic influences in record sales.
Take The WORK Group’s Jamiroquai, for instance. With little radio airplay in the United States, domestic record sales were slowing. Because this group was so huge in Europe, WORK continued to aggressively promote the record. Then, with MTV signing on as a partner and with increased video exposure, sales shot up. Radio has now jumped on the bandwagon.
One can site other instances where MTV has had little or no effect. But the fact remains that MTV can be a viable entity in stimulating record sales.
Record companies and retailers should continue to strive to find additional ways to stimulate sales, but anyone who says that airplay…of any kind…isn’t the motivating factor in convincing the record buying public to make a purchase is living in a dream world.
Is marketing important? Of course it is. Is it necessary for marketing executives to find new ways to stimulate record sales? Of course. However, may I make a suggestion? If marketing would spend more time making sure product that is already receiving airplay is actually in the retail outlets, perhaps this could be more stimulating than 10 surveys.
The biggest complaint I hear from programmers and promotion executive s when trying to determine the sales potential of a record on the air is lack of product in retail outlets. That, coupled with the limited knowledge of retail managers, loses sales.
There’s something else we should take into consideration when trying to find out how to stimulate record sales…that’s the product. It is amazing. No matter how long or how hard we try, programmers, promotion and marketing can’t make a stiff sell…nor can any of us keep a hit from happening. I know this should be a foregone conclusion, but better music always equates to bigger sales.
We should all take a lesson from the movie industry. With all due respect given to how much money the record industry spends promoting and marketing a record, we pale when compared to the motion picture industry. We are, at best, merely red-headed, freckle-faced step-children grubbing for crumbs from the tables of the truly exorbitant.
The motion picture industry spends millions on promoting and marketing movies, only to fall on their own sword when the audience doesn’t like the movie. All the marketing and promotion in the world couldn’t get people in the theatres to see Ishtar.
So, where do we go from here? The road isn’t easy. We continue to blaze a trail through the wilderness. I recognize the changes in radio. I understand that different avenues have to be explored to try and take advantage of some of the changes. But promotion is what gets records heard by the masses…not marketing. It is my opinion that many in the record business pushed marketing over promotion because they couldn’t promote effectively.
Just because radio has changed over the past few years doesn’t mean we must market differently because promotion doesn’t work. It means we must promote harder so that marketing can have a chance to work.
Why Is It?
7/17/1998
Every week I sit behind the keyboard of my computer and try to “wow†the industry with my innovative words of wisdom. Sometimes, I agonize for days on the subject of my Editorial. Other times the ideas and words flow like the waters of the Mississippi River. On rare occasions, I hit a complete block. Like now. I could hide behind the easy writer’s crutch and write about the agonies of penning a weekly column. Every deadline author has used this crutch at some point. It’s an easy way out. It’s not in my nature to take the easy way out. Besides, why should I torture myself writing an Editorial for people who basically don’t read? In an informal survey of programmers and record executives taken earlier this year, less than 5% had read three books in the past 12 months. That in itself could be the subject of an Editorial. But I digress. I find it interesting that the Editorials I spend the most time preparing are generally met with apathy, yet the ones I throw together at the last minute generate the most feedback. Why is that?
Thus, the subject of this week’s Editorial. I have no defining topic, just a potpourri of thoughts that have been on and off my mind for the past few weeks.
Why is it that our business is more about maintaining the status quo than striking out in new, innovative directions? It seems we are more satisfied with maintaining our position rather than conquering a new and exciting goal. Copying an existing concept is easier than inventing a new plan. It’s easier to sell. Using an existing plan as a point of reference is a much easier sell than an innovative idea that could be much better. A business based on the ever changing wants of the consumer should reward those executives who predict social change and think outside of the box. Instead of creating an environment for a navy led by those made from the blood of Christopher Columbus, who set sail for the new world, we have spawned a legion of pirates who plunder on those who travel the normal routes.
Poignant, yet vague.
Why is it that we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway?
Why is it that promotion executives spend more time behind computers than in the face of programmers? There is a reason your job is called promotion. What happened to the times when JoJo the Dog Faced Boy, Little Egypt, dancing chickens, trained donkeys and other outlandish options were exercised to bring attention to a record? Are we too focused on our place in the company hierarchy to make complete fools out of ourselves to get attention? Are we over-thinking the image of our artists, and in the process losing sight of the main goal of promotion…to get the record played on radio? Are we too cool to resort to smoke and mirrors when in the beginning, it’s all we have?
Why is it that the person in charge of the outdoors is called the Secretary of the Interior?
Why is it that we don’t have fun anymore? Is it just my imagination, or did the rebirth of superstar artists fade the moment we became more concerned about research printouts than the sound of music? Is passion possible without fun? No. You get excited when you hear a great record…it’s fun. Promotion and programming without excitement and fun are passionless…And in the end, meaningless.
Why is it that packages sent by ship are called cargo and those sent by land are called shipments?
Why is it that programmers and promotion executives bitch about R&R’s archaic methodology and leeching operations, yet continue to support the hypocrisy by paying service to the limited number of stations R&R allows (without any industry input) in its reporter base? Quit complaining and wallow in the hypocrisy or change you way of doing business. If you have any doubts as to my feelings about R&R, check any earlier Editorial.
Why is it that programmers don’t listen to music any more? (See earlier paragraph about the lack of passion in our business. The sword cuts across both industries.)
While I’m on the subject, why is it that promotion executives don’t listen to more music? You can’t be successful in our business if you don’t know what’s going on in the music industry…not just inside the confines of your walls. Arista president CliveDavis regularly listens to every record that hits the charts. If you expect more of yourself, should you do less than Clive?
Why is it that if you say “shit†at a crap table, they throw you out of the casino?
Why is it that radio stations are still doing adds on Tuesday? The day was arbitrarily picked in the 1960s because of two reasons: (1) Weekend sales reports were tabulated on Mondays and (2) stations made up “surveys†(including the chart, a picture of an air personality, etc.) that needed to be in the record stores on Friday. It took three days to get the “surveys†printed and delivered. Is anybody doing “surveys†anymore? Do the local record stores care? Every PD knows new records should be broken in at night and on the weekends. It’s safer. The only reason music is done on Tuesdays is to maintain an outdated status quo. Who’s going to be the first to add records on Fridays?
Why is it that Hits isn’t responsible for any? Why is it that we can’t see the forest for the trees? (Are those last two questions the same?)
Why is that the head of Human Resources paid me a compliment by saying, “That color looks good on you,†yet had I said the same thing to her, it could have been harassment?
Why is it that beer is sold at gas stations, yet it’s illegal to drink and drive?
Why is it that programmers don’t listen to the competition? Too often, programmers only pay attention to their own station while the people across the street are making changes that will impact the market. Each day, you should listen to a different station. You might learn something.
Why is it that we ask for requests, but never play anything that’s requested?
Why is it that birds suddenly appear every time you are near?
And as to the answer of the original question and its author. We talked to your girlfriend, Kilgo.
It isn’t
Write On
5/10/1996
There’s nothing like a little vacation time in the middle of the hassle and bashing of our everyday lives to put it all in perspective. A condo on the beach in Maui with no telephone can give you the time and opportunity to let you know what’s really important.
Let’s face it. We all want enough money to be able to say, “the hell with it†and take off for people and places unknown. Just give me enough “fuck you†cash and I’m there, bud.
Of course, the question is: How much money is enough? Unfortunately, the answer is always: A little more than we have right now.
But we can all dream, can’t we? We can dream about telling the boss to “take this job and shove it.â€Â We can close our eyes and imagine a scenario where we walk off into the sunset and never have to deal with anyone in this industry again. We could live quite comfortably with our toes in the sand, our face toward the sun, an ocean breeze wafting across our shoulders as breakers crash just off-shore, the sweet smell of suntan lotion blending with the tropical fragrances of the island flowers, a rum-and-pineapple drink only inches away from our fingers and a beautiful loved one to anticipate our every need.
Makes you want to take off right now, doesn’t it? The problem is, like me, you’ll have to come back.
For five glorious days and nights, I had most of the above. But toward the end of my quick Maui vacation, I experienced a vague, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was I missing those screaming phone calls from some client whose name had been misspelled? Was it a feeling of removal since no programmer had refused to take my call because we had listed his call letters in the Overnight Request fax with the wrong logo? Could it have been a longing for a promotion executive who wanted to scream in my ear just to hear his own voice bounce off the walls?
Actually, it was none of that. I had just sucked down too much rum, bruddah.
Any vacation will take away your troubles (for a short time) and clear your mind (for a shorter time). But a vacation to Maui is something special. I returned feeling (and looking) tanned, rested and ready. It took only a minute to become tuned, wrestled and wretched.
The first message was from a consultant who I had promised to overnight last week’s magazine. He didn’t get it. The second call was from a Sr. VP Promotion who I had promised a picture on Page 6. It didn’t run. The third was someone bitching about last week’s Editorial. I didn’t even remember what I had written.
The overnight delivery of the magazine I blamed on Josie. The screw-up with Page 6 I blamed on Jeff. The dissatisfaction with the Editorial just pissed me off.
Why?
It had nothing to do with the Editorial itself, so don’t bother finding it to see if you agree or not. It is about the general audacity of many of my peers who insist on whining about everything and doing nothing about anything.
For those of you who don’t know what an Editorial is, let me try and put it to you in a way you can understand: An Editorial is an opinion. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Editorials in publications across the country don’t even have to deal in fact. (Certainly not at Network 40. We try and never let facts get in the way of a really good idea!) Editorials are usually one person’s thoughts on one particular subject. At Network 40, I write most of the Editorials so most of the opinions are mine.
The person who disagreed with the Editorial didn’t upset me. It was the question, “Why did your write this thing?â€
Does the answer, “Because I can,†ring a bell? A better, unasked question was, “Who the hell read it to you?”
Editorials should be controversial. Editorials should cause readers to stop and consider. Editorials should cause people to agree and disagree. That’s why Editorials are written.
So, it wasn’t this guy’s opinion that pissed me off; it was his unwillingness to share his opinion with anyone except me that got me off that euphoric “Maui Wowie†ride in a hurry.
I welcome your agreement with my Editorials. I welcome your disagreements. I most welcome dialogue these Editorials cause. Whether you agree or disagree with the opinion, it’s the conversations that arise from the Editorial that makes the time and writing all worthwhile.
However, there are more opinions out there than mine alone. True, much of the information in most of the Editorials I write comes from conversations with others. Still, the opinions are mine. It was never the goal of this Editorial page for these opinions to be written exclusively by me. Network 40 is biased. We want to share opinions, problems and solutions with those in our industry so we can make jobs easier and people more productive. I particularly welcome those who wish to espouse their philosophy. It means I don’t have to write an Editorial that week!
If you have an idea, a belief, an opinion or a bitch, do what we ask our radio listeners to do: Write it down. You write it, we’ll run it. Then I can take the week off and you can get your share of the accolades on how smart you are…and all of the grief.
There are too many in our business with opinions who refuse to take a stand. It’s easier to criticize people for attempting something you’ve never done. We all have specific opinions. We all have loud voices. We are quick to critique others. Yet we all want a shield of deniability.
“I didn’t say that. It was someone who looked and sounded like me. But it wasn’t me. Maybe it was my brother!â€
I have never met more people of intelligence with more opinions about different aspects of our business who absolutely, positively refuse to have their name associated with their beliefs.
Odd.
Yet in a twisted, satirical way, one that works. Especially for me. If more of you wrote your opinions for publication, where would that leave me?
Out of work.
But living in Maui!
Y’all Come
2/9/1996
Back at the Gavin again…back where the heartburn begins…elevators, escalators fat-back and fried green tomatoes…back at the Gavin again.
The Gavin convention in Atlanta. I don’t know, call me crazy, but somehow it just doesn’t ring true. I’m the last person to hold on to the past and talk about “the good old days,†but somehow, a Gavin convention outside of San Francisco just doesn’t hold the same excitement and romance of San Francisco.
That’s even stranger coming from me, because I’m one of the few people in the civilized world who doesn’t list The City By The Bay as one of their favorites. Too windy, too cold and too hard to figure just who’s what for my lifestyle, I guess.
But a Gavin convention anywhere except San Francisco seems like a blind duck in a goldfish pond. Literally speaking, it fits…but it just doesn’t feel right.
You shouldn’t listen to me anyhow. I’m not particularly fond of Atlanta, mass groups of people and conventions in general…except for The Network Magazine Group’s 1997 convention, but that’s another Editorial and another year. So let me not digress any further.
For those of you who have never attended a convention…and for those of you who have and need a few reminders…let me brush off a few “convention tips†that will make your long weekend in Hotlanta easier. And if I don’t accomplish that, maybe some of the etiquette tips will, at least, allow those around you to have a nicer time.
You’re In The South, Boys And Girls: You’ve heard all about the New South? Forget it. Best to prepare for the worst and accept the best. You’ve never experienced anything quite like true Southern hospitality, but you must repay in kind or be branded a Yankee Carpetbagger and risk being tarred, feathered and run out of town on a rail. Refer to every male who might be the least bit older than you as “suh…as in, “yes, suh.†Every women…regardless of age…is “Ma’am.â€Â Of course, all groups are “ya’ll.â€Â We’re big on tipping hats and opening doors in the South. And “Thank You†is a very big deal. No matter whether it’s a waiter, the man who shines your shoes (we’re also big on shiny shoes in the South), cab drivers or drunks, always say, “Thank You.â€
When Did You Get In? Please …please…don’t use this worthless expression. What do you care when people got in? They’re here now, aren’t they?  Isn’t that all that matters? If people ask you, “When did you get in?†it means they could care less about who or what you are. It’s small talk at its worst. If people ask you this lame question, immediately stick a fork deep into their right eye. Then, as you’re waiting for the ambulance, you’ll have something to talk about.
The “More Important†Stare: This is a symptom of entertainment industry conventions. It happens when you begin talking with people and they gaze over your head or shoulder as they search the room for someone more important. Don’t do it. If you’re cornered by dweebs you really can’t stand, spend a few seconds in conversation, look at them, then excuse yourself. You’ll be a better person for it and so will they. If you are having a conversation in the lobby or a party with people who do this to you, immediately stick a fork in their left eye. This will prevent them from looking at anyone until the ambulance arrives.
Topless Bars: Can we all show a little class and not go to any of them? Okay, so I went a little over the line. But be careful. In the topless bars of underground Atlanta, you can lose a lot more than dollar bills.
Miz Rudolph: It’s one of the myths about Atlanta that happens to be true. Miz Rudolph runs an after-hours club that knows no equal. Few know the exact location of this combination juke joint/fortune-telling/opium den and fewer still are invited. If you are lucky enough to get to see Miz Rudolph up close and personal, remember these words of the wise: Do not stare at the tattoo on her left breast; do not pet the three legged monkey and watch out for Toodlums with little baby feet!
Cabs: Atlanta is no place to walk. Bring plenty of cab money. You’re going to need it. Almost everything is a cab ride away and most of these rides are expensive. However, the great thing about cab drivers in Atlanta is that most all of them speak English…with a twang, of course
The Most Popular Question: That would be, “Have you seen Sholin?â€Â Relax. Everyone will eventually see The Duke. If you’re lucky, he’ll even pretend he’s glad you found him.
You’re Going To Be Late: The Atlanta airport is the worst in the country for flights leaving and arriving on time. This is because it’s Delta Airlines’ hub…or that’s their excuse anyhow. Every flight goes through Atlanta, so yours is going to be late arriving or leaving or both. Deal with it. Take the time to have some Southern Valium (a.k.a. Jack Daniels whiskey). There’s a saying in the south: “If you die and go to hell, you’ll have a layover in Atlanta.â€Â Pray the weather is nice. The good folks of the South have this thing about snow: They like to watch it, not clean it up. If it sleets, we’re all out of luck.
The Davenport Comet: It has been a while since we’ve witnessed this phenomenon. If you’re up late in the lobby, you may get to see a rare appearance. If you think you’re hallucinating because you see a naked man running across the room trailing a flaming roll of toilet paper, don’t freak out. It’s not an uncommon sight in this part of the country.
Emergency Phrase: This is in case you’re caught in a restaurant without a reservation or have to wait in line for something else. Valerie DeLong (of the Atlanta High School Homecoming Queen family) has some clout. “Ya’ll know Val?†can work. Try it. Don’t mention John Fagot. They’re still not sure about him.
Real Emergency Phrase: If you wind up in a bar full of mean-looking rednecks who begin giving you the chicken-eye, you’ve got only one chance. Grab a long-neck, knock back about half of it, slam the bottle on the bar and yell, “How ‘bout them Dawgs!â€Â Don’t make me try and explain it, just trust me.
Enjoy the Southern hospitality. Drink a mint julep, order plenty of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and don’t forget to smile when they say:
“Ya’ll come back now, you heah?â€
Nothing
7/21/1995
I have nothing to write about. It happens that way sometimes. It’s like when you’re on the air and you have nothing to say. The only difference is that as a deejay, you can just roll the music. I think it was rule number two in the infamous RKO playing book: “If you can’t say anything, don’t say anything.â€Â Of course, not all jocks have read the playbook. I hear a lot of personalities rambling on with no rhyme or reason. I fear that’s what I’ll be doing. Here. Feel free to stop reading at any time. I’m just filling space.
I started to write about all the rumors that are running rampant through the record industry at the present time. But since I hate rumors, I figured that if I wrote about them, I would only be fostering a position I abhor. Besides, there’s no way I could write about rumors without pissing someone off and during my career, I’ve always tried to take the high road and not make anyone angry. Sure.
Did I say I hated rumors? That isn’t exactly true. Not true at all, as a matter of fact. Every person in our industry will say that they hate rumors. What they mean is that they hate rumors about them or their company. Everyone loves rumors about the competition. We’re quick to spread them. And just as quick to get angry if anyone has the gall to spread something about us.
Unfortunately, we are in an industry that thrives on innuendos, half-truths and outright lies. That’s why Page 6 is so successful (and the pictures we run!). And in our business, more often than not, many of the rumors have a way of turning into fact.
Interesting proposition, huh?
I could have written about the stock market. About how everyone I know has been on this wild ride as the market has set new records almost daily. Of course, I haven’t been a part of it. I sold my stock just before the roof blew off. Now I’m afraid to get back in. It’s like standing at a crap table when a shooter gets on an incredible role. You weren’t in at the beginning and you know as soon as you make a bet, he’ll seven-out.
I bought a house instead. I could have written about that, but I’ve been writing so many checks for the house that I don’t want to write anything else about it. I started to write about my girlfriend. It would have been an invasion of her privacy, but, what the hell, I needed something. I could write about the time we spend together, the tenderness we share, the fun we have, all of the things that happen in a relationship.
But I don’t have a girlfriend.
I could have written about cruising Sunset Boulevard after midnight, searching desperately for a street-walker to chat with, but someone beat me to it.
I could have written about what I’ve been hearing on the radio. It’s almost depressing. The absolute lack of excitement on the dial these days does not bode well for the future of our industry. When will someone in Top 40 step to the front of the milling masses and create a truly, full-service radio station? When will jocks stop reading the same old liners and share something to make the audience want to listen? How long will we stay on that 10-in-a-row format, thinking it’s the be-all and end-all?
I could pose some more questions. Why is the art of counter-programming a lost one? If your competitor is playing 10-in-a-row and stopping at :40 and :50, why should your station do the same? If your competitor stops at :40, why aren’t you sweeping music? That’s the way to have your competitor’s audience sample your station. If you’re playing commercials at the same times as your competitor, you give the audience the perception that you’re doing the same thing. It’s another rule in the RKO handbook that to beat the number one station in your market, you can’t be just as good… you have to be much better. Copying a competitor’s clock isn’t better…it’s the same.
It seems the term “innovative†had been deleted from many programmers’ dictionaries.
I thought about sharing my insight on the O.J. trail, but a quick glance at the magazine racks in the check-out line at the grocery store shows me all the angles have been covered. Besides, I don’t watch the trial on television anymore. I’m too busy coming up with editorial topics.
I could preach the virtues of all of the “smaller†radio stations R&B doesn’t think worthy of reporting status, but we do that every week throughout Network 40 anyhow.
I thought seriously about letting someone else write this column this week. I know WPLJ’s Mike Preston thinks someone else writes it every week. After this weak effort, I’m sure he now knows I write it. I should have had him do this one.
It would have been a natural to write about my passion for golf. I could have told you about driving the green at the par four or the three-iron second shot I hit to within six feet on the par five 18th last weekend. But I missed both eagle putts, so why bother? Besides, there are way too many people in our industry playing golf already. It’s hard enough to find a tee time. I don’t need to give any others the thought that they should take up the game.
Someone told me I write beautiful memorial columns. He was just sad that I’ve had to write so many. So am I. I’m glad I didn’t have to do one of those this week. Is it too much to ask that I never have to do another?
I could have written about the Conclave gathering last week, but I didn’t go. I know that hasn’t stopped me in the past, but his week is different.
What about the future?
I can’t think about the future right now. I’m having enough trouble with the present. At least I’m not worrying about the past. Am I?
I could write about paranoia, but I’m not paranoid. Am I? What have you heard?
So what do you write about when you have nothing to say?
Nothing.
But I told you that at the beginning of this column. At least I didn’t lie. I said you could stop reading at any time. You made the choice to continue.
If you’re still reading, you’ve got way too much time on your hands.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both.
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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