Happy National Disc Jockey Day

National Disc Jockey Day is observed annually on January 20th. That’s today!!! And that got me to thinking about how much the life of the radio DJ has changed. Which in turn reminded me of the times on the third Thursday of each month when a bunch of broadcasters sit at a table at the Media Club meeting and share their war stories.

There are always a couple of old timers like me and some folks in other media and some who are still involved in corporate radio today. As usual the stories are flying fast and furious about spinning disks in radio control rooms and the crazy things that happened. There are tales of kids coming up to the back door of that booth at the local drive in restaurant with requests written on mustard and ketchup stained napkins, songs being requested that had special meaning to the kids making their requests and even a visit from the Hells Angels with their special request; “Born To Be Wild” by Steppenwolf. As unbelievable as that last one was, I can attest to that event as it happened to me and I’ve written about it here before.

There were stories about splicing audio tape with razor blades, grease pencils and a contraption called an editing block. There was a certain pride about being able to battle through manual edits to get the perfect spot announcement. Today with all the electronic editing tools and digital audio, there is no skin in the game. You could make an infinite set of copies of your work and edit them with no risk to what you have done. Back in the day, if you marked the wrong place on the tape with the grease pencil, the razor blade could destroy your previous work and force you to start over.

There were stories about doing live remotes sent back to the station via telephone lines or a radio system called a “Marti.” There were stories about climbing tall towers swinging gentle figure eights at 1,200 feet in the gentle wind to place repeaters for these systems. Even a story about setting up a remote in the early morning in a zoo that was completely empty save for the security guard and 50 flamingos that swiveled their heads constantly to track your every move.

These tales were received with wide eyes and laugher and all of these stories came out of the murky mists of time. Even the stories told by folks still involved in commercial radio were old stories from their early days not new ones.

Where are the stories about happenings in the control rooms of today? There are no stories about Beatle wigs falling onto the turntable that was on the air. There are no stories about fumbling that commercial cart into the open maw of the cart machine on the right just as the record is ending and you are frantically ad-libbing as the last notes of the song fades into the static of the ether of the AM signal.

Radio is too neat these days, too perfect. There are no turntables with a tendency to skip tracks, no cart machines with tapes breaking at the splice just as you press the start button. Everything is computerized. The stories of today are about programming errors, missing end que marks or horror of horrors, a missing stop break in the schedule. It’s all too neat, too perfect; especially when the radio presenter is not live but has previously voice tracked his or her show.

Trust me; there is nothing that gets the heart thumping like recovering from a mechanical error yammering away live on the air while trying to fix the problem with the wayward tone arm or cartridge tape. There is nothing like the pure joy of having the freedom to explore the craziness of doing a live talent show on the radio with callers displaying their VISUAL talents. The Old Salt often said after demonstrating semaphore flags or flashing Morse code with lights from ship to ship, “God Bless America!” That was improvisation! That was real radio! That was funny. We could tell from the tears in the eyes of the sales staff as they pounded their fists on their desks in the office trying to quit laughing so they could make their calls.

Radio is too perfect these days, too sterile. Gone is the sheer joy of listening to a skilled deejay working at his trade making a better day for his or her audience. I’d rather hear that, mistakes and all than to listen to a computer play songs. I may be in the minority, but I miss that. Oh MY!