Introduction to Broadcasting was a 100-level course (COM 136) that was supposed to be the first class you took as a communication major in the communication building. I only point that out now because it didn't work out that way later for someone else. But that's another story.
It was an introduction of many things for me, notably the dual distinction of being my first class – first ever at college and first ever in the communication building. It was also my first of many classes to commence at eight o'clock in the morning. It was a three-hour lecture course offered at varying times that semester; I signed up for the session that met Tuesday and Thursday mornings from 8-9:30. Yes, I was a freshman and didn't know better (I like to think I had a scheduling conflict and had no other choice but who knows...).
The course (casually referred to either as "I2B" ["eye-two-bee"] or "'tro" [short for "intro"] by those people who thought it sounded hip but were, in fact, the tragically unhip) met in room 321, probably the largest classroom in the three-story building. For years I thought it was the only classroom in the building; while that may not be far from the truth, I think it just the one classroom dedicated to Communication classes (other rooms were designated for others uses - print journalism, photography, or whatever other programs the building housed).
What made the somewhat daunting coursework slightly more enjoyable was the instructor, the legendary Dr. Harvey Propel. His circle of influence probably didn't extend much past the Morra County line but that was okay – all communication majors knew who he was, what he represented, and why they should fear him. What he represented was the radio station - in addition to teaching he served as the faculty advisor for all us undergrads.
We shouldn't have feared him (I really don't think many did): he was a weedy, thin, little man, probably in his late-thirties, more known for his personality ticks than anything else. One thing that stood out was his lack of color – black slacks, a white-toned shirt (never solid but with faint stripes or patterns), and a black tie; to match was his fussy tuff of near-white hair, perhaps bleach-blond, cropped short atop his head that was as round as a balloon slowing loosing air. The corners of his mouth were usually turned up, giving him this perpetual jovial expression, but I think his face froze that way - he could become somewhat sardonic.
However, this being radio, appearances really didn't matter too much. This, then, brought up another memorable trait – his voice. Propel had a fairly easy-going voice (and mentality to match) that fluctuated to suit his audience: in class there was a sing-song tone that came off a bit nasally, especially when he got wound up on some topic. Behind the mic, he sounded smooth and resonant and confident, yet you could still his cockiness.
In addition, there was one of the accompanying 100-level lab sessions that you had to take along with Propel’s class, essentially the hands-on practicum that went along with whatever we were discussing in class that week. Propel was in charge of those, too, and just as loony as he could be in the classroom.
All in all, it wasn't a memorable class for the material – it was, after all, just an introduction to some rather basic information that we would get force fed many more times before we graduated – but memorable for the instructor.
And I feel a quiz coming on.
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Broadcast
(Strawpeople)
Strawpeople
From the album Broadcast
1994
