For three days a week that first semester in radio I plodded over to the station at a little before six in the morning to prepare some sort of newscast; on Wednesdays and Fridays I was allowed the sanctity of sleep and, in turn, had little knowledge of how those morning programs fared. I do recall hearing two girls doing a show Wednesday mornings, so maybe bored Bobbi Socks (or whatever her name was) on Tuesday set a precedent for some sort of female presence. “Jungle Jim” was one of the hosts on Fridays, who in turn filled in on a few Thursdays.
Thursdays were probably the best days for many reasons, among them that the week was nearing an end and Mike and James were on the air. These the two middle classmen weren't the flashiest or the funniest but did make the entire "radio thing" look as simplistic as possible. Unlike some of my previous encounters with morning show hosts, both were friendly and stopped by the newsroom to introduce themselves, ask if I had any questions, and sort of welcome me to the station. Which would have been nice had it been my first day.
One thing I noticed was how the two shared hosting duties of "The Mike and James show;" usually on other days the same person sat in the main studio behind the console and the other person was regulated to the secondary studio next door. While hardly trailblazers, Mike, the one who came off as more knowledgeable, often let James learn the ropes by taking the second-fiddle seat. Both also made efforts to include me occasionally in their dialogue, though I was often the inaudible "voice of reason, voice of news" that would come in later to "cease our fun at the top of the hour." There was one morning when the newsroom was locked, leaving me to prepare my newscast in the secondary studio, where I interacted with them a bit more than usual. All in all, it was a fun hour or so and part of me wished I could have stayed the entire three hours
Musically, Mike and James went for a sort of 80s alternative sound, music that wasn’t the topping the charts during the previous decade. There were songs from the 90s mixed in, of course, but usually songs by artists who had made a name for themselves during the 1980s – like the Pet Shop Boys. I’m not sure how the station ended up with the bright orange and weirdly textured CD case that housed their 1993 album, Very, but we did, albeit for a short time. I never saw it when I started working in the control room, but by then I know we had sold off some of our vaults at least once or twice. Mike and James made often use of the final track on the disc, a cover of the Village People’s Go West, as a sort of theme song, source of bed music, or even a joke – I don’t know.
I do know that the whole morning show concept had gone west, more so gone sour, by the end of the semester and Mike, Bandito, the Big Dog, and even me, had all moved on to other radio and television endeavors.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Go West
(H. Belolo/C. Lowe/J. Morali/N. Tennant/V. Willis)
Pet Shop Boys
From the album Very
1993
Come on, come on, come on, come on
(Together) We will go our way
(Together) We will leave someday
(Together) Your hand in my hands
(Together) We will make our plans
(Together) We will fly so high
(Together) Tell all our friends goodbye
(Together) We will start life new
(Together) This is what we'll do
(Go West) Life is peaceful there
(Go West) In the open air
(Go West) Where the skies are blue
(Go West) This is what we're gonna do
(Go West, this is what we're gonna do, Go West)
(Together) We will love the beach
(Together) We will learn and teach
(Together) Change our pace of life
(Together) We will work and strive
(I love you) I know you love me
(I want you) How could I disagree?
(So that's why) I make no protest
(When you say) You will do the rest
(Go West) Life is peaceful there
(Go West) In the open air
(Go West) Baby you and me
(Go West) This is our destiny (Aah)
(Go West) Sun in wintertime
(Go West) We will do just fine
(Go West) Where the skies are blue
(Go West, this is what we're gonna do)
There where the air is free
We'll be (We'll be) what we want to be (Aah aah aah aah)
Now if we make a stand (Aah)
We'll find (We'll find) our promised land (Aah)
(I know that) There are many ways
(To live there) In the sun or shade
(Together) We will find a place
(To settle) Where there's so much space
(Without rush) And the pace back east
(The hustling) Rustling just to feed
(I know I'm) Ready to leave too
(So that's what) We are gonna do
(What we're gonna do is
Go West) Life is peaceful there
(Go West) There in the open air
(Go West) Where the skies are blue
(Go West) This is what we're gonna do
(Life is peaceful there)
Go West (In the open air)
Go West (Baby, you and me)
Go West (This is our destiny)
Come on, come on, come on, come on
(Go West) Sun in wintertime
(Go West) We will feel just fine
(Go West) Where the skies are blue
(Go West) This is what we're gonna do
(Come on, come on, come on)
(Go West)
(Go West)
(Go, ooh, go, yeah)
(Go West)
(Go, ooh, go, yeah)
(Go West)
(Go, ooh, go, yeah)
(Go West)
(Go, ooh, go, yeah)
(Gimme a feelin')
(Gimme a feelin')
(Go West)
(Gimme a feelin')
(Gimme a feelin')
(Go West)
(Gimme a feelin')
(Gimme a feelin')
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
This big dog bites, hah
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
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
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Straight ahead, less talk, more action with no distractions
Monday morning news during my freshman year (see Watching your river turn into an ocean) was during the Hodge-Podge and Bandito show, one of the better less-than-spectacular excuses for a “morning show” that the station experimented with for a semester. I think the argument was that as a "college" operated station that there should be something geared toward a "college” audience – hence, in short, rock music was played in the morning.
At some point prior to the start of this semester, Hodge-Podge (an upperclassman named John) and Bandito (a guy named, I think, Andy) had gotten together to 1) apparently decide on their captivating air names, and 2) become two men on a morning show mission, as they came across as the only ones who put any long-range planning into their broadcasts. I say this because I distinctly remember being surprised at the number of big name celebrities that had recorded "drops," or short vocal promotional spots for their "show." The only one I recall now is Carrot Top, that popular actor of oh-so-long-ago, who I think recorded two or three different versions. He identified himself ("Hey, it's Carrot Top..."), then spouted out some comedic one-liner or something (such as this Apocalyptic quote: "...and I love the smell of Napalm in the morning...."), and then reminded the few listeners we had at 6 a.m. they were in fact listening to the very station they had intentionally tuned into. I don't think our university was on the map as far as having big names stop by regularly, which therefore always led me to believe either Hodge-Podge or Bandito had recorded them over that previous summer when they knew they would be working together.
And they worked together fairly well. John seemed to be the senior of the two, seemingly "leading" the show; he turned up in a number of sports broadcasts both on the campus radio station as well as the television station in subsequent years. If anything, he might have been classified as the more "serious" one because Andy definitely came across as all party. Looking back, I would say his appearance was that of a subdued and younger Jack Black – one who liked to rock. Not an out of control personality but one who would have been better served by a radio station that didn’t revert to classical programming after the three hour rock-themed morning show.
And rock they did, most notably music I had never really heard before. This leads me to the following conclusions: 1) they were both guilty of bringing in outside music, which at this point in the station’s history was no big deal; and 2) the morning show concept was doomed because they were the only "show" (that I was associated with) to really play that album-oriented format. They were particularly partial to Van Halen's Diver Down, which they played tracks from the Monday morning it rained.
Van Halen had been getting used to their new reign, too – Sammy Hagar’s third album with the group was the risqué, For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, which when abbreviated, is not mentioned on the radio. The album would garner a Grammy for Best Hard Rock Performance.
And, for what it’s worth, Hodge-Podge and Bandito should have garnered something for their hard rockin’ performances on Mondays, too – especially when they were followed by the Tuesday duo....
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Man on a Mission
(Michael Anthony/Sammy Hagar/Eddie Van Halen/Alex Van Halen)
Van Halen
From the album For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
1991
I got a one track mind
My blinders up
Now all I gotta do is get up, go out, and get her
Got the first step down
Uh-know what I want
All seven senses tryin' to deliver
Now baby, let me fill you up inside (Up inside)
Spread your wings and (Open wide) open wide
So hot! So hot! So hot!
I'm a man on a mission
Straight ahead, less talk, more action
With no distractions
I'm all conditioned, thoroughbred
Go for the action, with no distractions yeah
You give every inch
Flesh, blood and bone
And it's all wrapped up in a tight little bundle
Got an open mind, do anything
I been aware the ball might roll or tumble
So, right down to the bottom of the top (Ooo-ooh)
I'm gonna do it all in one big pot (Big pot)
Yeah! She got! She got! Me hot. Uh!
I'm a man on a mission
Straight ahead, less talk, more action
With no distraction (Ooooo)
I'm on a mission
I'm a thoroughbred Less talk, more action, with no distraction (Ooooo)
Ow, yeah! Uh!
I got no distractions
So get on, outta the way
Only thing that's on my mind
Ah, she sure got my attention
Once you taste the real kind
Ohhhh!
Uh! Ahh! Come on!
She got. She got. Ah
Man on a mission, straight ahead
No talk, no action. I got no distractions
I'm all conditioned, what I say
A man on a mission, up ahead
Ah yeah! Woo! My kinda action
Ow! Uh!
No distractions
I got no distractions
No distractions. Uh!
No distractions, I'm on a mission
Woo! Ow!
At some point prior to the start of this semester, Hodge-Podge (an upperclassman named John) and Bandito (a guy named, I think, Andy) had gotten together to 1) apparently decide on their captivating air names, and 2) become two men on a morning show mission, as they came across as the only ones who put any long-range planning into their broadcasts. I say this because I distinctly remember being surprised at the number of big name celebrities that had recorded "drops," or short vocal promotional spots for their "show." The only one I recall now is Carrot Top, that popular actor of oh-so-long-ago, who I think recorded two or three different versions. He identified himself ("Hey, it's Carrot Top..."), then spouted out some comedic one-liner or something (such as this Apocalyptic quote: "...and I love the smell of Napalm in the morning...."), and then reminded the few listeners we had at 6 a.m. they were in fact listening to the very station they had intentionally tuned into. I don't think our university was on the map as far as having big names stop by regularly, which therefore always led me to believe either Hodge-Podge or Bandito had recorded them over that previous summer when they knew they would be working together.
And they worked together fairly well. John seemed to be the senior of the two, seemingly "leading" the show; he turned up in a number of sports broadcasts both on the campus radio station as well as the television station in subsequent years. If anything, he might have been classified as the more "serious" one because Andy definitely came across as all party. Looking back, I would say his appearance was that of a subdued and younger Jack Black – one who liked to rock. Not an out of control personality but one who would have been better served by a radio station that didn’t revert to classical programming after the three hour rock-themed morning show.
And rock they did, most notably music I had never really heard before. This leads me to the following conclusions: 1) they were both guilty of bringing in outside music, which at this point in the station’s history was no big deal; and 2) the morning show concept was doomed because they were the only "show" (that I was associated with) to really play that album-oriented format. They were particularly partial to Van Halen's Diver Down, which they played tracks from the Monday morning it rained.
Van Halen had been getting used to their new reign, too – Sammy Hagar’s third album with the group was the risqué, For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, which when abbreviated, is not mentioned on the radio. The album would garner a Grammy for Best Hard Rock Performance.
And, for what it’s worth, Hodge-Podge and Bandito should have garnered something for their hard rockin’ performances on Mondays, too – especially when they were followed by the Tuesday duo....
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Man on a Mission
(Michael Anthony/Sammy Hagar/Eddie Van Halen/Alex Van Halen)
Van Halen
From the album For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
1991
I got a one track mind
My blinders up
Now all I gotta do is get up, go out, and get her
Got the first step down
Uh-know what I want
All seven senses tryin' to deliver
Now baby, let me fill you up inside (Up inside)
Spread your wings and (Open wide) open wide
So hot! So hot! So hot!
I'm a man on a mission
Straight ahead, less talk, more action
With no distractions
I'm all conditioned, thoroughbred
Go for the action, with no distractions yeah
You give every inch
Flesh, blood and bone
And it's all wrapped up in a tight little bundle
Got an open mind, do anything
I been aware the ball might roll or tumble
So, right down to the bottom of the top (Ooo-ooh)
I'm gonna do it all in one big pot (Big pot)
Yeah! She got! She got! Me hot. Uh!
I'm a man on a mission
Straight ahead, less talk, more action
With no distraction (Ooooo)
I'm on a mission
I'm a thoroughbred Less talk, more action, with no distraction (Ooooo)
Ow, yeah! Uh!
I got no distractions
So get on, outta the way
Only thing that's on my mind
Ah, she sure got my attention
Once you taste the real kind
Ohhhh!
Uh! Ahh! Come on!
She got. She got. Ah
Man on a mission, straight ahead
No talk, no action. I got no distractions
I'm all conditioned, what I say
A man on a mission, up ahead
Ah yeah! Woo! My kinda action
Ow! Uh!
No distractions
I got no distractions
No distractions. Uh!
No distractions, I'm on a mission
Woo! Ow!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Watching your river turn into an ocean
As I mentioned a year ago (and my, how time flies: see Chic-chic-ky-boom) my initial plummet into radio started as a newsreader during what would have been the fall semester of 1994, evidently a rainy season where we were (more on that in a moment). The news broadcasts would eventually go through many changes during my four years as an undergraduate, something I knew would (or should) happen. Gee – even as a freshman, and even when I had no authority on such things, I evidently was looking to improve some aspect of the station. Troublemaker, wasn't I?
Well, not that "big" of changes. I mean, you would think there would be some sort of programming element – a zinging sound effect or a transitional music bed – to signify that the station is taking a break from loud music to educate the community on current events. Nope. Essentially, once the music was over and those recorded spots had played, the "morning show" DJ (and I use the term "morning show" very loosely) pointed through the glass into the "newsroom" (and I use that term loosely, too) and both people on either side of the glass hoped they were ready. If you weren't paying attention to the time, and if the DJ didn't remind you, you might have a matter of seconds to get behind the mic – and then forget about a practice read. If you missed the cue and looked up a split second later chances were there was dead air. Finally a voice would crack in and, for three days a week, it was me.
As you’d expect those first few weeks of my one three-minute news report every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning did not readily feature a confident newsreader. The only way to get more confidence was to get more experience and perhaps it was wise of me that I did sign-up for three shifts. After a few weeks I got into the routine, understanding my place in the station and how to compose a decent script (even if it was four brief stories of no local merit).
Anyway: on to the rain. There had been showers over the weekend and talk was of more on the way. Lots more. When I left for the communication building Monday morning it was already coming down nicely, and I made it the lead "local story" during the 7 a.m. news update. It was during that hour that my day changed. All that water from the previous days had collected in the low-lying areas; now, as more rain fell, all this water had nowhere to go. Flooding was eminent. First the station got reports of flooded low-water crossings and then high-water crossings and then calls came in about school closures. Then the big news: the university would be closed for the day, maybe some of the next, too. I dutifully forwarded each note to Hodge-Podge and Bandito and asked if it was okay to stick around for an 8 o'clock update. Sure. Whatever. I stayed there all morning in fact, giving my last update at 10 a.m. before deciding I had done enough. When all was said and done the county had over fourteen inches of water and I had logged more hours that day than usual. Those that noticed thanked me for sticking around, which probably led to my inability to leave in the impending years.
At home, the news that day showed all the flooding and its results: people stranded on rooftops, cars washed away, and creek beds that had been bone dry a week ago were now in full rage. Also, fish were shown floating in places where fish shouldn't be, which is what reminded me of this album cover, one I recalled seeing in the music library some years later. It may have been one of those albums used for the Pit show (see Kill the Crow), but I don’t know. In fact, aside from the fact that the Inspiral Carpets were from England, I don't know much the band at all (except that they're named for a clothing shop in their native Manchester).
All in all, certainly a flood of experience for me one October morning.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Here Comes the Flood
(Inspiral Carpets)
Inspiral Carpets
From the album Revenge of the Goldfish
1992
The sky is red, and the sea is blue
God made the distance between me and you
Always walking the tightrope, always walking the line
Placing your head in the lion's jaws
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD, FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
Watching your river turn into an ocean
Sailing your ship off the edge of the world
Watching the sail as it carries you on
The wind twists like lovers in each other's arms
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
This is my future and this is my past
And they meet in the middle of nowhere
Won't you lend me a hand, stuck out in nowhereland
Waiting for someone to hear me
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
Oh, here comes the flood, here comes the flood
Here comes the flood (7x)
Well, not that "big" of changes. I mean, you would think there would be some sort of programming element – a zinging sound effect or a transitional music bed – to signify that the station is taking a break from loud music to educate the community on current events. Nope. Essentially, once the music was over and those recorded spots had played, the "morning show" DJ (and I use the term "morning show" very loosely) pointed through the glass into the "newsroom" (and I use that term loosely, too) and both people on either side of the glass hoped they were ready. If you weren't paying attention to the time, and if the DJ didn't remind you, you might have a matter of seconds to get behind the mic – and then forget about a practice read. If you missed the cue and looked up a split second later chances were there was dead air. Finally a voice would crack in and, for three days a week, it was me.
As you’d expect those first few weeks of my one three-minute news report every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning did not readily feature a confident newsreader. The only way to get more confidence was to get more experience and perhaps it was wise of me that I did sign-up for three shifts. After a few weeks I got into the routine, understanding my place in the station and how to compose a decent script (even if it was four brief stories of no local merit).
Anyway: on to the rain. There had been showers over the weekend and talk was of more on the way. Lots more. When I left for the communication building Monday morning it was already coming down nicely, and I made it the lead "local story" during the 7 a.m. news update. It was during that hour that my day changed. All that water from the previous days had collected in the low-lying areas; now, as more rain fell, all this water had nowhere to go. Flooding was eminent. First the station got reports of flooded low-water crossings and then high-water crossings and then calls came in about school closures. Then the big news: the university would be closed for the day, maybe some of the next, too. I dutifully forwarded each note to Hodge-Podge and Bandito and asked if it was okay to stick around for an 8 o'clock update. Sure. Whatever. I stayed there all morning in fact, giving my last update at 10 a.m. before deciding I had done enough. When all was said and done the county had over fourteen inches of water and I had logged more hours that day than usual. Those that noticed thanked me for sticking around, which probably led to my inability to leave in the impending years.
At home, the news that day showed all the flooding and its results: people stranded on rooftops, cars washed away, and creek beds that had been bone dry a week ago were now in full rage. Also, fish were shown floating in places where fish shouldn't be, which is what reminded me of this album cover, one I recalled seeing in the music library some years later. It may have been one of those albums used for the Pit show (see Kill the Crow), but I don’t know. In fact, aside from the fact that the Inspiral Carpets were from England, I don't know much the band at all (except that they're named for a clothing shop in their native Manchester).
All in all, certainly a flood of experience for me one October morning.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Here Comes the Flood
(Inspiral Carpets)
Inspiral Carpets
From the album Revenge of the Goldfish
1992
The sky is red, and the sea is blue
God made the distance between me and you
Always walking the tightrope, always walking the line
Placing your head in the lion's jaws
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD, FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
Watching your river turn into an ocean
Sailing your ship off the edge of the world
Watching the sail as it carries you on
The wind twists like lovers in each other's arms
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
This is my future and this is my past
And they meet in the middle of nowhere
Won't you lend me a hand, stuck out in nowhereland
Waiting for someone to hear me
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
HERE COMES THE FLOOD, IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD (IT'S JUST WASHING YOU DOWN)
FLOOD, HERE COMES THE FLOOD
Oh, here comes the flood, here comes the flood
Here comes the flood (7x)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)