Way-back radio

I was listening to Beatlesarama on Itunes the other day and it was playing Beatles appearances on BBC radio, then a live George Harrison radio spot where he played “Here Comes the Sun” in the studio. It brought back some old feelings.

No, I’m not old enough to have listened to the original broadcasts, but I have a spot in my heart for radio. Some of my earliest memories are of my parents listening to AM radio in the morning before they went to work – news, weather, a few songs and many bad jokes. I can even recall some of the jingles for the DJs:

Stan Roberts, the corny DJ
He floats the jokes
Right down the drain.

He was from WGR-55 in Buffalo

There’s something about listening to people with a tinny, hollow reverberation in their voice. Sometimes, it’s like they’re talking under 12 feet of water. I still hear that sound when I think of me trying to tune in an oldies station from Toronto that played all the greats from the 1950s and 1960s. The DJ called himself Rockin’ Robin and he offered me my first taste of Elvis, Bobby Darin, The Platters through the static and whistle of bad mono radio.

I tried in high school to listen to the “cool” stations – I think it was 97 Rock – but didn’t like it very much. I ended up listening to adult contemporary, thus my working knowledge of the vast catalogs of Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond and Kenny Rogers. Thus my many memories of the chicks swarming all over me.

Sports

Radio has always been great for sports. I love listening to football and hockey over the airwaves. It takes some imagination, but a good broadcaster can paint the picture for me of a long drive down the field for a last-second touchdown. Van Miller will always be the voice of the Bills and Rick Azar of the Sabres.

Hockey is tough on an announcer because it moves faster than any other major sport, but I love an announcer who can yell out a good goal – “He shoots! He scooooooooores!” The flip side is the bad announcer and a great goal. The announcer for the Grand Rapids Griffins is terrible. He sounds like he’s got the hiccups while driving down a dirt road in a septic tank – “ScoooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOresss!”

I stopped listening to radio for weather reports along time ago. I either watch the reports on TV (since you can’t swing a cat without hitting a weather update) or listen to NOAA radio for “real” reports.

What did me in on radio weather is the false sense of caring the DJs have. How many times do you hear someone warm and snug in their studio telling you to drive carefully out there in a blizzard?
You know, if I stopped one of those guys on the sidewalk and asked for a quarter so I could have a meal after being stranded on a lifeless rock in the South Pacific for 6 months, they’d have me arrested for panhandling.

Thought: Video didn't kill the radio star, it was the butler.