35 posts tagged “radio”

I had the pleasure of interviewing Hal twice on my radio program and developed a true fondness for him from those brief conversations. I was truly saddened to hear of his passing. Dr. Amarena, a protege of Hal's, contacted me to inform me of the news and to ask for working links to the interviews I conducted. as many of you know, I had to password protect my original Tie-dyed Brain Rays blog on Typepad due to a stalking and threatening incident earlier in the year.

As I began to explore my options for getting the posts about Hal over to my VOX blog, or removing the password from my Typepad blog and tucking away some older, more sensitive assets for safe keeping, I stumbled across a post from April of '06 when the radio stations had just changed hands, my salary had been cut in half by the outgoing regime and we had no idea what to expect from the new owners. It was a tense, depressing time, but one event buoyed my spirits-- the event described in a post from April 5, 2006 titled, "Songs And Darkness."

The radio stations have been sold and new owners take possession on the 11th. It is a subject I've been silent on out of an intense desire for self-preservation, although I could tell some stories that would make you shake your head in disbelief (and have the audio tapes to prove them.)

The transition has been painful to say the least, although I have been assured that I will keep my job. "The Drive" will most likely go away with the arrival of the new owners and a new format. It has been suggested that I may become a producer for one of the talk radio shows, or perhaps some other form of low-level management minion with hit points of 0 and charisma of -1.

Each day as I pull into the parking lot my chest seizes with the uncomfortable tightness that comes from not knowing what office drama will be unfolding when I hit the door. Yet, I persevere. Today I was able to duck and cover so as to not get any of it on me, although there was plenty to go around.

But when I got to the studio I was informed that even though the transmitter was down I should do my show as usual because it might come back up. So for over an hour I played music and yakked into the microphone as if I were on the air... As if anyone was listening... As if it mattered. The rest of my night consisted of cutting the overnight weather, checking the fax machine a couple of times and pretty much watching the walls until time to go home. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to show up.

When at last the time came, I put the radio stations to bed, gathered my things and headed toward the door. Just then the phone rang. Who calls a radio station at straight-up Midnight? I figured it was one of the out-going regime making sure I hadn't left 30 seconds early. That really put a wrinkle in my jockeys. I was anxious to get home and put the finishing touches on my tribute to Star Trek fan films and didn't have time to play these silly games.

"Hey, I just wanted you to know that I think you guys are the greatest," said the unsteady voice on the other end of the phone. The impediment sounded natural, with perhaps only the slightest help from something medicinal.

Great, one of those.

I put on my perky voice. "What can I do for you?" I asked, hoping I could rush him off the phone after a quick request.

"I can't remember the name of the song or who it's by," He said.

I sighed to myself. These guys always take forever. The sad part is that even if he remembered the title and artist, I couldn't play it anyway since what we were broadcasting at the moment was a satellite feed from God only knows where.  But the dutiful DJ response is, "I'll see if I can find it," or "I'll pass your request along to the air-staff."

Then he said, "My name is Frank and I work at Wal-Mart. I listen to you all the time and I think you guys are wonderful." He went on, "I'm fifty-five years old and I lost my son about four years ago when he was fourteen. You play some wonderful music that helps me feel better. Sometimes I come out to the lake at night and listen to you on my little headset and watch the water. I'm sitting here looking at the lake right now." I could hear the station playing softly in the background.

I tried to offer a kind word, but I was a little choked up. I could hear the loneliness in his voice. I could hear the gratitude he felt toward us for being there-- a friendly voice in the darkness, playing songs from better days. It seems odd that someone could feel such a personal connection to people who hadn't a clue he even existed, but perhaps that voice in the darkness was the closest thing he had to a friend. I wonder how many Franks there are, alone in the night, tuning in to the voice like a beacon of human contact. Perhaps it is not an exaggeration to imagine for some it is the only thing connecting them with the rest of humanity.

Maybe in a way the music that we play is somehow a shared experience, as if they feel we are choosing each song just for them; saying to them, "Hey Frank, remember when you brought your kid to the lake and he caught his first fish? This song was on the radio then too." I wished that he could remember the title of the song he had wanted to hear. I wished that I could play it for him. I stumbled through the perfunctory promise to look for it in the music library. I thanked him for his call and wished him well. He expressed his thanks again and we hung up. I came home to write this. Frank returned to the voice, the darkness, the waves, and songs from better days.

Call it coincidence, fate or the mysterious hand of God, but I needed to hear Frank's voice tonight as much as he needed to hear mine. I hope that by some quirk of luck the satellite DJ will play the song Frank was hoping to hear. I hope he feels that he made the connection he reached out to make. I know I won't soon forget him. I know why I'm going to work tomorrow.

When I read this over again tonight it kind of reached out and grabbed me by the throat. It has not a thing in the world to do with Hal Graham, other than perhaps to remind us that even in the briefest encounters with our fellow humans we make an impression. We never know when or how a simple off hand remark might build up-- or tear down-- another individual. Hal, with his good nature, gentle humor and mad ukulele skills impressed me as a man to look up to and emulate. I know he was a friend and mentor to many in the rocketbelt field. I know Dr. Amarena would agree.
A little later I will sort out all this blogging nonsense so that Dr. Amarena can put together his memorial. I'm honored that he would like to use my interviews. I'm proud to be a small part of the tribute to Harold "Hal" Graham, Rocketbelt Pilot, ukulele player and all around mensch.

Thank you all for your indulgence in my little digression into Songs and Darkness. I don't know why, but I just felt a need to share it again.

I interviewed Greg Grunberg from NBC's "Heroes" today.*  Usually when TV stars do radio interviews they have to crank them out like sausages. You're lucky if you get eight or ten minutes, tops. Greg was gracious enough to talk to me for twenty minutes.

He's been hitting his pal J.J. up to play Harry Mudd in the Star Trek prequel-sequel. I think he'd be great in the part. I've heard rumors that Jack Black wants the role (if it exists). Not that he wouldn't make a great Harry Mudd himself, but let's hope J.J. Abrams decides to keep it in the "family."

Yowza is the big non-acting project in Greg's life right now. Yowza is an iPhone app that zaps coupons straight to your mobile phone. You can check it out here.

The cause near and dear to his heart is epilepsy awareness. Please visit talkaboutit.org to find out more.

*Recorded on 10-29-09. Broadcast 11-02-09.

J.R. and I discuss Little Sprouts trick-or-treating adventure then digress into a discussion of the movies.


You can watch a slide show of photos from the build and trick-or-treating while you listen.

You can check out my Flickr set of the robot build and Halloween here.

This is one of the first books to inspire my love of robots and a
desire to build them. It is the story of a kid who builds robots out of
old Cambell's Soup cans and junk parts to help him with chores around the farm. I remember one robot had hooks for hands so he could carry buckets down to the river to fetch water. ...Boy, that Andy sure was
clever.

After I read that book in the second grade my dad and I built a "robot"
out of a cardboard box with a Folgers Coffee can for a head. Dad rigged
up a couple of flashlight bulbs for eyes wired to batteries and a
toggle switch in the back. I took it to show-and-tell. You should have heard the "Ahhhhs" when I lit up those eyes. I guess kids were prettily easily impressed in the early 70's....

When I was a little kid and my brother was a young teen, he picked up extra money working for a guy down the street. I'm not sure how this neighborhood tycoon fit into the publishing industry, but whatever he did involved ripping off covers of magazines that didn't sell and sending them back to the publishers.... The guts of the magazines, comic books and paperbacks were mere waste by-products and Bro was free to bring home whatever he wanted. A few found their way home with covers intact, like this beauty. See a resemblance between the T-450 and Rex here?

I can still remember a part in the story where Rex damages his "Refractor Bulb" and has to replace it with an obsolete black and white model. Rex was much on my mind as I created the T-450 suit, refractor bulb included.

 

Here's a little banter from the show regarding the robot costume I'm making for my six year old grandson for Halloween. I'm also posting a few pics from the build. Little Sprout is excited, although he can't quite picture in his mind how it will all fit together. I'm enjoying the project, but dying from sleep deprivation. I can't wait to get it finished.

Sometime around 2 am I evidently decided that what the T-450 really needed was a pair of detachable hand grenades in his left armpit.

This little guy is Ragnar, one of the gentle souls who passed too quickly through my life.

I've heard it said of a man who's been beaten, "He just needs to focus on a cause greater than himself." But for a man who has been broken the weight of a great cause can be overwhelming. Sometimes, to draw his attention away from his inner demons, a man needs something to care for smaller and more helpless than himself. Perhaps God sometimes sends angels in the form of animals to heal and to console. And perhaps because of their special service to the creator and their special bond with Man our animal companions may have secured a place in Heaven. Will the fur people who brought us joy on Earth be waiting to share our paradise in the hereafter?

I recently interviewed William Cuccia about how he overcame a lifetime of rage and depression by nurturing an abandoned nestling hummingbird. In their relationship Cuccia saw a reflection of his relationship with God and began to heal. He documented his experiences in a book called, "Hope:Lessons From A Hummingbird."



I also talked to Susi Pittman, a practicing Catholic who wanted to know what yhe Bible said about animals in Heaven. She found scriptural precedent that allows for animals in Heaven. She also explores the notion that animals have souls. She collected her research in a volume entitled, "Animals In Heaven? Catholics Want To Know!"

After weeks of planning and gathering materials I've started building my grandson's Halloween costume. He will be terrorizing the neighborhood as the T-450 Lil' Devil Battle Droid. I'll blog the build in more detail as it progresses, but I wanted to get a few pictures posted of the work so far.

I've gathered strobing LED light sticks for antenae and ordered assorted flashing LEDs off the Internet for buttons and indicator lights. I picked up an inexpensive voice changer and found sound activated LED pendants to create a Lost In Space robot style light up voice plate. A three LED stick-up light makes a great cyclopian robot eye. Bonus-- it blinks red when you turn it off.

I'm constructing the body out of foam core. No cheap-o corrugated cardboard for my Grandson!  The arms and legs will be made from dryer vent hose. For the rest of his suit I'll attach layers of silver-painted foam core detail to a pair of black sweats.

I started last weekend with the arms because they are the most complex components. I've got one arm completed and ready to attach to the torso, which I built (and rebuilt) tonight. I found some great toy robot arms at Big Lots, but they were too long. They would need to be cut down and modified or the Little Sprout would be dragging his claws on the ground while trying to trick-or-treat.

The unmodified arm is at the bottom, the cut-down version in the middle and the finished arm up top.


The retaining ring and cuff are made of foam core and poster-board, painted with acrylic craft paints. For adhesives I'm using plain old Elmer's white glue and, much to the detriment of my fingers, hot glue.

I also got some work done on his power-pack last night. He'll be an unstoppable trick-or-treating machine powered by his "Mr. Fusion" Cold Fusion Reactor (and five pounds of sugar.)

The reactor chamber is a groovy piece of packing Styrofoam-- I think it was from an Areo Garden my wife ordered. The transformer looking thingies on the sides are what's left of a couple of cheap solar powered sidewalk lights. They are lit with flashing body jewelry LEDs glued into a hole in the end. The base of the LED is glued into the end-cap, which was actually the reflector insert for the lighting unit. To turn the blinking LEDs on just turn the end-cap like a knob until the light comes on. To change batteries just unscrew the end-cap. The reactor chamber will be attached to the back of the torso and the non-blinky bits will be painted silver to match the rest of the suit.

That's what I've gotten done so far. I'll post more as I go along, including video. Stay tuned!

Look at the intense concentration! I actually did pretty well-- much better than I expected. I scored a couple of eagles and a couple of birdies and hovered around par for most of the course. I hit a little snag on the 5th hole. It was a par 5, but it was near a bunch of cliffs with an ocean breeze perturbing my ball. I could not get it on the green to save my life. It kept going over the cliffs into the ocean. After 11 strokes the game made me move on.
 

I am the first person in history to kill a virtual sea lion in Tiger Woods PGA Tour '09.

In the end I did pretty well. I scored a 43 despite my 11 stroke crisis. J.R. Scored a 54 so he couldn't rib me too much about my golf game. We made a little money for some local boys and girls and a virtual donation was made to the Virtual Sea Lion Federation in honor of Sammy the Sea Lion, may he rest in peace.