There were two telephone machines in the main studio of the radio station. One sat to the left of the audio board and was the main line of communication in and out of the station – requests came in, calls went out seeking a current temperature (and wind speed, if so desired...). On the right side of the audio board, pushed back behind everything else in the world, was the other phone, a dingy, dusty thing that saw little daily use.
It was, in effect, the back-up phone. Say, for example, we're on the road broadcasting university basketball games. We can't take the portable transmitter unit over great distances, so for some out of town (practically out of state) games the play-by-play team would broadcast via a phone drop. Using the second phone meant the main phone lines could be kept open for their intended use, like requesting music by groups such as the Hunger. This Houston, Texas based group’s best known song was probably Vanishing Cream, a song I always thought somehow fused reggae with metal. It got some decent spins on our station, as well as countless others, during the mid-1990s.
Anyway, that’s where the story of the secondary phone should end - the story of an underused appliance and the people who scantily used it. But it doesn't. The main phone line was connected to a small light box sitting atop of the audio board. We knew we had an incoming call when the light flashed, thus preventing any awkward ringing noises from going out over the air. The secondary phone line didn't have a light box and therefore did make noise – regardless of whether or not the microphone was open or not.
Dubbed the "magic phone," the number was shared amongst student management and faculty as a way to get the attention of the DJ on duty. I think the original concept was that if a shift was going badly, someone could call the secondary phone for prompt service. Actually hearing a phone ring would grab the DJ's attention, who would answer it and either be read the riot act or asked what just what the heck was going on in there. You knew if you got a call on that phone that it just was more than just a regular listener.
But somewhere along the way the concept blew a bit out of proportion. I don't remember what combination it was of on-air DJ and dissatisfied student director, but the student yammering away on the air was suddenly taken back by the sound of a phone ringing in the background. You could hear it plainly on the air and it was actually a bit funny, the DJ fumbling for both an excuse to its sudden sound as well as a way to pick it up without walking away from the microphone (it always sat just out of arm's reach).
Heh-heh...well, now, this was a way to test those pompous jocks who thought they were the bee's knees at the station. What better way to deflate their ego than having a phone suddenly ringing? And what would be the best way to infuriate them just a bit more? Hanging up the phone as they ended their break, of course. Unfortunately the "magic phone" trick got to be too popular and soon DJs were starting their three-hour shifts by unplugging the phone. While it was a nice way to get back at the people calling, it didn't help that the DJs were forgetting to plug the phone back in.
Oh, well.
For those expecting a call about the Hunger, don’t count on it. They’re still going at it with their most recent album being 2005’s Finding Who We Are.
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Vanishing Cream
( The Hunger)
The Hunger
From the album Devil Thumbs a Ride
1996
Who fills the sky
Who answers when I cry
I feel alone, I feel abused
I feel there's nothing I can do
It's getting late
There's no one home
No messages on the telephone
I feel so good today
It's hard to stay away
A hunter and his prey
Today will be the day
Is this real, is it you
Are you what I see
Is it him, am I good
Or just vanishing cream
Is there truth, how many lies
Am I a fool to believe
Who's in my bed
I feel misled
It's just vanishing cream
