I Used To Work In Radio, Maybe Now I Can Move On

July 6^th

I’ve thought a lot about writing what is on my mind on July 6^th. Just an ordinary day to most people but to me, it’s the day my world crumbled.  I know that sounds kind of dramatic, but to me, it was something that changed who I was and made me open my eyes to a picture that isn’t very pretty.

I used to work in radio.

I used to work in radio.

Those words still are difficult to say. It’s kind of like trying to swallow a pill without water.

It was a dream come true for me. I knew from the time I was 6 years old -  I just knew - radio was for me. I went to school, knowing what I wanted but- at that time, although a degree was a plus, what I needed was a license. I got my radio license. That was so long ago. 

Now you don’t need a radio license.

It took a while to get THE job.

Times were different, I knew what I wanted and I didn’t want to settle. I listened to one station, KEZ 99.9 and that is where I wanted to work. It was a pretty popular station and the hosts of the morning show were the brand of station. It was a fun time. I got to meet so many celebs, I got travel some, and endorse products, to say it was so much fun would be an understatement. You hear people say find a job doing something you love and you’ll never have to work. THAT was this job to me.

I put in my application and I called the program director all the time. I think I probably called him every week. He was a nice guy and after an extended period of time , I got the call. I was so happy. Although it was part time, it was my foot in the door. YES!! I will never forget Dave Windsor,  as he was the one that gave me a chance. I got to work the morning show, initially as a call screener then I worked myself up to producer. Working at this “little nickel and dime” radio show – as Bill Austin, co host of the morning show used to say has taught me much.  I got to work with the best in the business. Best program directors, general managers, sales peeps, marketing peeps and some of the best production and programming people around. For that I am thankful. I got to work with Ron Gerson, Marty Manning, Perry Damone, Nancy Sherwood, Arlene Terry. Big names, huge talent, and nice, nice people. The people in production were awesome too.

I miss that. I miss who I was, or who I thought I was. 

I miss radio.

I know it’s the nature of the biz, but it still hurts. People in radio actually joke about how many times they’ve lost their job. They move to another state, a different market and start over.

It was about a year after Bill passed away.  He used to say he was my buffer.

He was. I loved him and I miss him. He would tease me and embarrass me because he’d remember things I would tell him when he could get away with being a smart ass.  He excelled at that - It was part of his charm. I miss him so much.

I have never, ever been let go from a job, until this day. After nearly 20 years working at the best station in town - - -

July 6, 2011, I lost the best job. 

The official reason was the elimination of my position, but didn’t appear to be the case. And because I signed legal papers, I can’t elaborate.

I will say, it still is a soft spot for me. Nine years later.

I can’t go too deep into what happened, as it serves no purpose, I will say that there are two sides to every story. And for what happened to me, and for what some believe to be the truth are two separate things.  I am still hurt by this, 9 years later. People you think are your friends, aren’t. They hear rumors

then  show different colors. That hurts when people you thought were friends turn out not to really care at all.

So, July 6^th – not a favorite day for me.

My problem is I feel too deeply.

I don’t work in the media, but I am okay.

It’s taken me nine years to get this off my chest. 

Maybe now I can move on.

In What Kind Of Messed Up World Do We Live?

My heart hurts.

Every story.

Every newscast.

Everyday.

Hearing about yet another one of our brothers killed by the hands (or knee) of someone who believes he is more important. In what kind of messed up world do we live?

I read an article about a mother having to have that talk with her black son. Not the birds and bees talk. No, this talk is more difficult. And you probably should start at a younger age.

I can’t remember where I saw and who wrote it, but no parent should have to tell their son that they will be treated differently because he is black.

How can you explain so a young child understands that no matter how kind he is, there will be someone that does not like him because of the color of his skin? How do you prepare your child for that? How do you tell your child that even when he has done nothing wrong, there are some people that will accuse him, and there are some police, even though sworn to protect, that will do him harm?

This is hard to write this because it brings emotions that are not pleasant, and quite frankly hard to process.

That article had one sentence that that really touched my heart and although I cannot remember exactly, it was along the lines of:

When did my black baby boy stop being cute and turn into a threat to you?

My heart!

I have a friend that is raising twin teenage sons. She has an older son and daughter as well, but I worry about her teenage sons.
I cannot imagine the fear and pain going through her mind. Raising teenagers is hard enough, throw into that a world where there are some, usually the loudest most ignorant of the ignorami, that want to see your son dead. 

It is sad.

It is sick.

It is disgusting.

We were all teenagers once. We thought we knew it all. How do you tell your teenager to be careful, not to be a smart ass to people that can take things too far? How do you tell them they can’t really be who they are because someone might take their comments out of context. How do you tell your teenager not to say or do anything that might get them killed?

HOW? 

I cannot imagine having that talk. I do not want to think about having to have that talk. To my friend, I say, I am so sorry we live in a world where there is so much hate. I am so sorry that she must have that conversation. As parents, we always worry about our children’s safety. This is going beyond the -don’t stick your finger in the light socket- or – do not shove the raisin up your nose. This is -be careful my baby boy because there are sick people that will lie and hurt you.

 I hope there is a time someday soon when we will not have to worry so much about their safety. Someday, hopefully, someday.

This really is not meant to be a political post. But I would be remiss if I did not point out that the current administration makes it easy for the haters to be hateful. For the violent to be violent. This administration makes it possible for some people to spew their hate.

There has always been hate towards people that are different, I do not understand why they just cannot get along and love one another.

I want to say that the majority of people are good, kind, and loving. I want to say that it doesn't seem that way because the haters are loud. We have to change that. We need to be the change.

All babies are adorable. Why is it, if you are a black baby boy, you are introduced at a really young age that people will want you dead because you are black.

I cannot comprehend.