There are not many memories from Tuesday mornings to dwell upon – aside from the excessive desire to play Cuban Pete on a weekly basis (see Chic-chic-ky-boom) – and I realize I cannot correctly identify either host all these years later. It was either "John and tha Big Dawg" or "Bob and the Big Dog" or some such silliness – but who really cares at this point in the game? Neither host was particularly friendly, especially to a lowly freshman much like myself. I probably was a bit disenchanted after my first Monday to come in that first Tuesday and find two completely different people behind the board that I would have to figure out how to work with. A stranger in a strange land; a foreigner, if you will.
The one who called himself "Big Dog" (I think he was the big dog) was a large kid named Todd (he of “windometer” fame, see The masquerade is played and neighbor folks make jokes); he usually ran the console, coming off with an over-zealous attitude that he was a good DJ even if his output said otherwise. His accomplice behind the mic was a short, squatty woman whose name I don't recall – maybe Bobbi? Nothing anyone ever did seemed to please her and I can see her face – masked in dour boredom – popping into the newsroom to tell me "five minutes to air" or some other piece of news that I was already well aware of. There wasn’t a lot of cheery chemistry between the two, almost a forced togetherness: I don’t recall the banter between the two but Todd laughed at his jokes a lot and the girl spoke with the same enthusiasm one does when discussing one’s own funeral arrangements. Almost on a weekly basis Todd showed Bobbi how to run the console, playing the part of educated trainer.
One of Big Dog’s more obnoxious moments involving me came midway through the semester. As I mentioned elsewhere, there was no noticeable element identifying a newscast that semester, such as a news introduction (see, for example, Sleeping Beauty). Therefore, before you began the top-of-the-hour news, you had to give the required top-of-the-hour legal identification of the station, containing the station call letters and the city of license. This wasn’t a big deal: early on, I just sputtered out the call letters in a pretty pathetic voice and then went on with the news items. Later in the semester, when I was more confident and adventurous, I found other ways to use them, such as saying, “Good morning, it’s seven o’clock at...” followed by the call letters, the city, and my brief announcement that, “this is an FM 89.3 newsbreak.” You know, trying to not make the call letters the first words out my mouth (or, blandly reciting four letters of the alphabet like everyone else).
Anyway, there never was a problem with this introduction except for one morning when Todd was more frenzied than usual. I must note that there was seldom any sort of on-air cross-talk between me and any of the daily morning show hosts, and therefore I found myself a bit of a loss when, immediately after I concluded the newscast, Big Dog jumped on the mic to correct me. There was a syrupy sincere “thank you” for my “hard work” on the news that morning, followed by a reminder to always start with the Legal I.D., which he then rattled off as an example. This was on air. Live. A bit crass wasn’t it, I think looking back? Couldn’t he have just done his own I.D. and then come over after the music was going to let me know? That is, if I hadn’t given the I.D. – which I had.
Without thinking, I answered back with a cold, clear, “I did.” That, too, went over the air. Live. I already wasn’t too thrilled with this bunch, and I always got the impression they felt the same of me, and so this was hardly a way to mend fences.
Speaking of Foreigners....heh-heh...Lou Gramm was back by the mid-1990s to lead his boys through another album of classic rock sound-alike music, incidentally their last studio album to date. You sort of wonder how bands like this managed to stay afloat with all the “alternative” and “hip-hop” artists reworking the popularity meter.
I have to wonder, when I hear the sloppy sounds of Big Dog, how something of this caliber was even popular?
Feel free to theorize if the proceeding ambiguous sentence referred to the song or Todd, by the way.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Big Dog
(Lou Gramm/Jeff Jacobs/Mick Jones/Bruce Turgon)
Foreigner
From the album Mr. Moonlight
1995
Big dog, scratching at the door
With this big dog, you won't want to round, no more
My big dog, guiri, bites, hah-huh-grrrrrr
Big dog, growling, grrrrrr
Bad dog, babe, you better keep away
Guiri, guiri, guiri, hah-huh-grrrrrr
This big dog bites, hah
Grrrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrrr
Big dog
Big, big dog
Grrrrrrrrr
Big dog, grrrrrr
My big, big dog
Big dog, bites, grrrrrrrrr, grrr
Big dog, hah-huh
Grrrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrrr
Grrrrrrrrr
Big dog, hah-huh
Big, big dog
You better get adviced
You better let this big dog
