Two Big Voices

Jerry McGee passed on a couple weeks ago. He was in his seventies, suffering from emphysema. He literally started radio in Redding back in the 50s, and worked (still doing production, still voicing commercials) up until six months ago. He served in the Korean War. Jerry didn't talk about the war much, just one story he mentioned about using his Zippo lighter to stay warm in the trenches.

When I worked with him, though, what we mainly talked about was radio. He had many stories about the barnstorming days of radio in Redding. I would share my stories. I always said that I wanted to run a tape while he told broadcasting stories. I never did, of course. Jerry was very self-effacing. His humor and comments were occasionally cutting. He would always include himself.

And just days ago we also lost Bob Thomas. He was one of the good guys. I remember meeting him at B94 in the 80s here in Redding. He always had something nice to say, always funny. I considered him a radio friend, though not a personal one. But I always knew that if I called him up, he would be as open and helpful as he could, especially if it had to do with our shared profession.

There are Bob Thomas stories I can tell and Jerry McGee stories I can tell, but this might not be the forum. They'll appear if I progress through my spotty biography on this blog.

I'll miss both of these guys. We who shared the airwaves share a kindred soul.

I've left radio business behind for now. (Okay, I do an occasional voice-over, but that's it!)

Now, on to becoming Kafka. It's been two weeks since the three-panel interview. It should just be a matter of days now when I find out if they want me.

Then There Were Three

I arrived at social services 2 minutes before the interview was to begin.

I heard an obese woman with a dirty shirt scream, "You come anywhere near me you mother-fucker! That restraining order. Remember, jackass?"

I thought maybe I was in the wrong building. But then a kind woman about 50ish, carrying a clipboard and as if she were a waitress at Applebees, said, "Your name, please?"

She told me that they were changing their interview style today. Turns out it was the same style as the last one: A THREE person panel interview ("And maybe four," she said). We had 20 minutes to prepare for the interview, getting a copy of the nine questions and the opportunity to sit in a quiet room. Two other interviewees sat scribbling on paper in what looked like a testing room.

Well, it went pretty well. The questions were nearly identical to the previous panel interview. The last one was with the state, this one was with the county's HR department. I added some things that I thought I should have added last time. I made 'em laugh; made 'em cry.

Okay, maybe they didn't cry, but they did laugh and smile. But I also think they were just trying to be friendly and human. (At least one of them was with Human Resources, after all.)

So now I'm back to waiting. They're calling past employers and personal references.
Maybe mid-June they said.

To Be or Not to Be

So the saga continues... Another letter in the mail.
My final interview is set for next week.

One thing. These appointments keep getting earlier and earlier:

• The written test was at about 11AM...
• Then the oral exam was at 9:45AM...
• Now the final interview is scheduled for 8:40AM.

I confirmed my interview time, leaving a message with the interviewer. Her hours are Monday through Thursday 7AM(!) to 6PM(!)... That's 4 days a week. "I do not work Fridays," she said on her voicemail message. I'm wondering if that would be my schedule if I get the job.

One Step Closer...

Yes.
One Step Closer...

...To becoming enveloped into the bureaucratic womb of the welfare state--the government side... To becoming Kafka.

I did well on the oral exam. I was informed that my combined score between the written and oral exams gave me a ranking of 4. So that means that there were only three people that scored better than me. Hundreds took the written exam, but I'm not sure how many passed. Nonetheless, I'm in the chosen few. I think I might actually make it in.

No, We're Not There Yet

This process is very meticulous, methodical and bureaucratic... Naturally.
I will find out within the week whether I will step ever closer to becoming Kafa and be immersed in the government.

What happened to the radio?

Good question. Answer: There are many, but deregulation, the internet and corporate media mergers is what happened to the radio. Now, the music is still there, but it is bereft of personality, relevance and diversity.

I never could have gotten on the radio on my own. My dad happened to be in the business. What I really wanted to be was an astronomer, a writer, a computer scientist, a filmmaker. I was a big radio listener in the mid- to late-seventies, both music and spoken word. The last remnants of dramatic radio could be heard with shows like Mystery Theater on CBS Radio. KSFO AM 560 in San Francisco broadcast this show every weeknight at 9PM. It was on later than my bedtime (I was only 10 years old), so I would take my small AM-only GE transistor radio and listen to Mystery Theater through my pillow. After Mystery Theater, was the KSFO Comedy Hour. On Sunday Nights I listened to Dr. Demento's show of odd and occasionally funny songs. On Saturday nights, I scanned the dial, feigning sleep, and found stations all across the west coast.

I began recording radio programs when I got a cassette recorder for Christmas when I was 11. I would take the recorder with me wherever I went and listen to E.G. Marshall introduce a Sherlock Holmes or Edgar Allen Poe mystery. One week they did an original series of programs on Ancient Egypt. This was during the Tutankhamen exhibit that toured the U.S. that year. 1976? 1977? I still have some of these recordings to this day. I would listen to Mystery Theater and other programs over and over; while riding the school bus home, mowing the lawn, or hiking in the nearby hills. My peers may have been listening to music, but I was listening to these dramatic radio programs.

What a sad, isolated youth I led.

Who The Hell Is Kafka?

I know.

KD Lang, right?

Not really. Just a very important writer from Prague. He worked in an insurance office to make a living and wrote some of the most influential fiction in the 2oth century. (Wikipedia Bio here)

This picture was taken in 1917. Now, my ears aren't as big as his, but I'm pursuing a job in government to pay the bills. I've spent the last 25 years working in an industry that most people would think as fun, cool, or just really really neat: Radio.

Yes, radio. The lumbering dinosaur of the media. But I've become bitter about this industry. Radio turned its back on me November 30th, 2006. More on that later. I still love it, and it will always be a part of me, but the bitterness and cynicism wore me down long before they grew tired of me. More on that later, too.

Today I couldn't believe it. A panel of three government workers questioned me in a professional, non-judgemental way that was totally foreign to me. In radio, interviews always were about "selling yourself" and selling your soul. I always felt like I was trying to be someone that wasn't me. Does that make any sense? Well, I'll try to make sense of all this self-analysis through this blog.