It was refreshing to hear a DJ extend professional courtesy this afternoon to the host of the next show. Before starting his final music sweep, the DJ said, "Just one more set (from me), and then, there'll be a nice jazz show."
That shows impressive team player spirit--and a commendable lack of an ego.
When I worked at WEW 770 AM, someone had made prints of a Newsweek cover from December 7, 1992. Under the headline, "The New Middle Age," an animated man is saying, "Oh, God...I'm really turning 50!" Someone at the station added a second word balloon reading, "...and I love 77 WEW!"
I have a copy of that print on my refrigerator. Those who know that radio station know that the added punchline doesn't work as well today because the station has an international format instead of the big band/music-of-your-life format it used to have.
That's appropriate, however; the radio business is ever-changing, and so are the times. One part of that punchline still rings true, though; the AM radio audience skews older...
...and, as I turn 50 today, I'm one of those older listeners.
Last night, between calls at work, I checked the weather app our company uses. I started reading about the overnight frost advisory, getting as far as, "Frost could kill s," before having to take a call. While I was on the phone, I thought, "Surely, the advisory doesn't read, 'Frost could kill someone,' does it? Frost doesn't do that, and that would be an awfully blunt advisory. After I hung up, I read the advisory in full. It said, "Frost could kill sensitive outdoor vegetation if left uncovered."
Whew. Although I don't wish for the ruination of anyone's carrot crop, it's good to know that, despite what Michael Murphey's song, "Wildfire," would have you believe, there is no such thing as a killing frost.
I was always curious to see which Mr. D. would show up on the first day of college orchestra class. Would his optimistic side win out, leading him to tell the orchestra, "Look at this sea of cellos. Look at this sea of basses?" Would it be the informational Mr. D., reminding us that he has office hours and that we're all welcome to stop by? Or, would he set the tone for the school year more sternly?
When a conductor has multiple personality facets, it's interesting to see which one shows up.
Heard on an AM radio garden show today: "I always say, 'Don't prune broadleaf evergreens heading into Wintertime.'"
I know nothing about gardening, but I still trust that it's sound advice. When you can make a statement like that matter-of-factly, you're most likely an expert in your field.
The day after a high school jazz band concert, one of my teachers complimented my playing--with one caveat.
"You could have used more solos," he said.
"Thank you," I replied, "but the bass isn't usually a solo instrument. I don't mind solos when I'm allowed to play them, but I'm not asked to play them all that often."
Then again, improvisation is a hallmark of jazz. Besides, this was the ensemble that, during a rehearsal of "C Jam Blues," gave a trumpet player a chance to meander through the tune as if playing the instrument for the first time, a saxophone player space to start scatting stream-of-consciousness lyrics, such as "She was walkin' down the hall...Baby, you look so good...You looked so fine...walkin' down the hall," and the director time to stop conducting in order to ponder the score.
Maybe it wouldn't have been out of line for me to ask for a few more bass solos.
How do you calm down a perpetually hungry cat who insists on biting your feet, even when you've given her cat food multiple times in a day? I tried singing some alternate lyrics I'd made up for the first verse of "California" by The Lagoons: "Tried to reason with a cat who bites my feet...She just wants to eat. She'll just have to wait for her food."
Somehow, I thought the mellowness of the song or the reality of those lyrics would sink in with my cat, Collette. Alas, they didn't. Back to the drawing board...