My Year in Radio: Relax, Garrison K., The Threat Is Over

Just about one year ago, I was listening to the classical music station which I have set on both car radios and the living room radio. The DJ of then played the music of "Star Trek," the Alexander Courage theme from the TV show. (Shatner was always a butterball but he could still barely get away with wearing a close-fitting shirt and not looking utterly ridiculous. But I digress. Kirk out.)

I sent her an email saying I liked film music and that I would like to hear more. She replied, saying that the program director had expressed interest in programming more film music and that I ought to get in touch with him -- strike while the iron is hot.

I did and he invited me to the studio and we started talking about my being the DJ for a weekly one-hour show of music of the movies. He asked me to put some programs together and encouraged me in every way. He told people there that I was going to be doing a show and they were greeting me when I would visit the studio.

I did make up six or so shows, selecting themes and songs from many movies, burning them to CDs, and writing scripts for my commentary between numbers. I love movies and classical music and film music, so it looked like this was the career niche for me (at last). The plan was for him and me to record the programs in the studio and, by golly, I thought, air those suckers.

Well, it never happened. After much noodging on my part, we finally got part of one program in the computer. He told me he'd decided (this was all of a sudden) that he'd better run the show by a higher-up to make sure it was approved and that we would stop recording for now until he had done that.

Well, I tried to remind him occasionally that he'd said he'd meet with the VP, and a round of shuck and jive, of excuses and apologies ensued. In March of this year, after one last email, I gave up.

Day before yesterday I had an email from His Shiftiness. More shuck and jive and excuses and apologies about how he'd tried to convince the higher powers of the value of a film music show -- he didn't actually say he was trying to salvage my show: I guess he considers he might go to hell for outright lying.

But the bottom line came at last, after much milk of magnesia and several enemas and digging out of the impaction: "I'm sorry we can't use your show..." Then the real agenda became apparent in an attachment: it was a sample of what he himself plans to do on the new digital station which will be airing sometime in the near future. He then had the chutzpah to ask me to help, "if you want to," by suggesting film music selections.

(Did he suspect I might not want to after realizing what a number he has done on me? "Chutzpah," by the way, we know from lovers of Yiddish, is that quality of the man who murders his parents and then begs for mercy from the court because he is an orphan.)

I replied to the gentleman, Thanks but no thanks. Actually, I did not dignify with a reply the offer of a sop, a consolation prize, of being a "consultant." I just asked the gentleman to finish the program we'd started recording last year and send me a CD of it as a keepsake of my "days in radio." I asked him not to reply in words, just send the disc, because "People may doubt what you say, but they will always believe what you do."

So Gary K. (and Alan B.), my threat of being a radio personality is past. Relax your sphincters. Amen.