FEATURE ARTICLE
FREAK
My Life Behind The Mic In The Windy City
by FREAK
One of the most
frequently asked questions I get is “How did you get into radio?”
to which my standard answer is simply “Luck.”
While it may be short
and sweet, it’s basically the honest to god truth. Leaving the bullshit
aside, this is pretty much how it happened… to the best of my
recollection.
In the winter of 1983
(yes, eighty-three) Triton Community College in River Grove held a
promotion called “Everybody Wants To Be A DJ Week”, where anybody
could call in and reserve an hour of airtime on their ten-watt radio
station (WRRG-88.9 FM) to play whatever they wanted.
Being raised on rock
radio stations like Super ‘CFL, WLS, WMET, and The LOOP, I
jumped at the chance to rock Chicago like Larry Lujack and
John Records Landecker did. So, along with my friends Eddie and
Paul, I secured my sixty minutes of airtime and prepared to kick some
radio ass.
Still in high school,
we ditched classes after lunch and showed up early with milk crates
filled with albums and Super Big-Gulps of Coke laced with Bacardi Silver
and settled down in the station’s record library.
I was introduced to a
student DJ named Wendy Snyder (ex-WLUP, ex-WKQX,
now WCKG with Steve Dahl), who would be doing all of the
technical work while I got to speak. It was three o’clock on December
14th when she queued up my first song, “In the Beginning” by a
band from Florida called Heaven, and we were on our way.
My on-air debut came
two songs later between “Lights Out” by UFO and
“Blackout” by the Scorpions and I was honestly crapping my
pants.
I stepped into the
booth across from Wendy and put on a monstrous pair of headphones,
praying that I wouldn’t screw it up. The song ended, she pointed at me,
and I spoke as the room spun and the sound of my voice boomed in those
headphones. I spit out what I’d been rehearsing for days, the call
letters, my name, what I just played, and wrapped it up with –
“Here’s the Scorpions doing the title-track from their latest release,
Blackout on FM 89 - WRRG!”
It was a harrowing
fifteen-second ordeal for me, punctuated with a prophetic event that
foretold how the vast majority of my radio career would go from there…
Wendy played the wrong song.
I walked into the
hallway to find my friends Eddie and Paul rolling on the floor
hysterically laughing and Wendy trying to refrain from joining them. I
just wanted to go home. To this day, I’m not sure if it was an honest
mistake on her part or they had her do it as a cruel joke.
The rest of the
afternoon went much better as the three of us did our respective hours
without incident and went home to finish getting drunk.
The following April,
Eddie and I did it again and for our third time in the fall we combined
our time doing a two-hour program together instead of single hours
alone. As we were leaving, we were approached by the program director
about doing weekly shows. All we had to do was take a continuing
education course, two hour classes every Tuesday and Thursday nights,
for eight weeks to learn the equipment and cut a demo tape and we’d go
from there.
Thinking it was going
to be expensive we balked, but when I learned it was only twenty-seven
bucks, I signed up on the spot.
That’s right kids, my
radio schooling consisted of sixteen two-hour night classes at a total
of twenty-seven bucks.
 By
April of 1985, I had my own show. A two-hour program from 4-6 every
Monday afternoon playing typical college music like REM, Ministry,
and Modern English.
I was really getting
into the whole thing, developing bits and characters while learning what
every single button and meter did in the studio. The assistant director
was Scott Dirks (ex-WLUP, ABC Radio) who patiently
answered all my stupid questions and reigned me in when I started
getting out of hand.
He encouraged me to
get an FCC license so I could handle transmitter duties. So I filled
out my application and sent a check for forty-five bucks to the
government and on December 21st 1985 it came in the mail. I was
officially a government sanctioned radio broadcaster.
It was January 1986
when I was moved up to the coveted 8-10 shift on Monday nights. I was
supposed to sign-off and shut down the transmitter at ten but I dubbed
myself the Monday Night Madman and took it upon myself to stay on
until Midnight, sometimes even until 2am, just screwing around and
playing rock ‘n’ roll. The honchos at the station knew what I was up to
but begrudgingly let me continue as long as I followed the rules.
This continued for
several years, as I slowly learned the music business inside and out,
forming a Metal Department for the station (which didn’t play metal) and
appointing myself the director.
A few phone calls to
the major labels and I was soon on every mailing list around, receiving
ten to twenty albums every week. I even subscribed to the College Music
Journal (CMJ) and began reporting the music I played giving my supposed
position a shade of legitimacy.
It was a wonderful
display of me vastly overstating my importance to the industry for free
swag and tickets, while the industry used me by overstating my
importance to other markets listing me as a Chicago station playing
their music.
It wasn’t long before
program directors of real radio stations across the country were calling
me to ask my opinion on new music and my quotes were being printed in
album press releases.
The stupidity was
maxing out in 1992. I was a contributing metal editor to three trade
publications, speaking on panels at conventions, a paid instructor at
the college [teaching production classes], and going to every show that
hit town, conducting interviews and making friends.
Ahhh yes... I was the
king of my own little empire and completely happy with the situation,
until a late night phone call presented the opportunity to crank up my
act a few notches.
The assistant music
director at the Mix (WTMX-101.9FM) heard me as he was
driving down I-294 and gave me a call saying he needed a weekend
part-timer.
Smelling the chance
to crack the radio big leagues, I worked through the night compiling a
demo-tape and had it at the station before he got there the next
morning. The following weekend, I made my debut at 12am Saturday
morning under my lifelong nickname “Cap”. The first song I
played was “Give It Up” from Wilson/Phillips, but I didn’t
care because they were paying me eight bucks an hour to do so.
Within a month, I was
doing Saturday and Sunday overnights and I had weaseled my way into an
assistant production spot doing all the public service and commercial
dubs. Being an hourly employee, I was just trying to make as much as
possible while learning as much as I could about the industry while I
had the chance.
As we slid into 1993,
a grouchy old guy named Paul Christie was brought in to do
mornings and I was yanked off the weekends to be his board-op/producer.
The experience was
miserable at best with the only saving grace being that he decided that
the 5:30-9 shift was too long for him and I was given the 5:30-6 slot to
do my own thing.
In hindsight, it
actually taught me a lot about dealing with the super-egos I would
encounter down the road as well as dealing with the rigors of a morning
drive show.
The highlight of my
WTMX days came when “King B” Ron Britain defected from
Magic 104 (WJMK) to the Mix. He quit live on the air,
went down to an awaiting limo, and came over to the Mix, all live
on our airwaves and I was running the board. Britain was talking to us
on one of those bag-phones while we played music, took phone calls, and
awaited his arrival. The whole episode is in the Radio Broadcasting
Museum downtown and I was a part of it, so I guess I have that going
for me.
One of the folks I
got to know at the Mix was Maura Miles who was married to
Jimmy Novac at The Blaze (WWBZ-103.5FM). She told me
one morning that they were looking for help at The Blaze and that
I should submit a tape.
That very afternoon,
I recorded Kevin Lewis’ program, since he was The Blaze’s
music director, and that night I duplicated it word for word between
song for song. I shoved the tape in a Fed-Ex envelope, drove it down to
the Prudential building and gave it to Novac who signed for it, to make
it look like it was actually shipped and slid it under Kevin’s door.
That Friday I was
training with Jimmy as “Tommy Hunter” (Hunter S. Thompson’s name
backwards) doing the 11pm hour as an audition. My first break was into
Aerosmith’s “Cryin’” and I can remember it to this day.
“The best of rock 103-5 the Blaze with fresh rock from Aerosmith….
It’s “Cryin’ on 103-5 the Blaze”.
As soon as I was done
the hotline rang and my heart sank as Jimmy answered it and handed me
the phone. It was Kevin but he wasn’t mad. “Settle down a bit and
you’ll be fine. I need you Midnight to six tomorrow and Sunday and
we’ll talk Monday.” I was hired.
I continued working
at both stations all summer long bouncing from the mild-mannered “Cap”
on the Mix in the morning all week, to the hyper, Jeff Spiccoli-sounding
“Tommy Hunter” on The Blaze on the weekends, while still running
my little empire at WRRG.
That Fall I met
“Major” Tom Johnson who did traffic for The Blaze as well as
WMAQ (AM-670) and we instantly became drinking buddies. I flew
with him in the chopper a few times and as the holidays approached, he
asked me if I wanted to fill in for him during his vacation as another
career opportunity reared its head.
I went in to the
offices of Metro Networks with a bottle of Crown Royal and some cokes to
meet with an urban cowboy named Jerry Dennis. A few hours later,
I left the Merchandise Mart with a new job as a traffic reporter.
Flying around the
city in that chopper is by far the greatest job I’ve ever had. Hovering
over plane crashes, train derailments, police chases, fires, and
accidents on a daily basis never got boring and it remains one of the
few things I’d do again if the opportunity arose.
A few weeks later I
was called into the Mix offices for my first official sit-down. Sitting
across from general manager Drew Horowitz and program director
Barry Stern, I felt like I was back in grammar school waiting for
the principal to chew me out.
I’m not sure if
they’d learned of my extracurricular activities or not, working at more
than one station is generally frowned upon in the industry, but I was
told some changes were being made and that my position was being
eliminated. I’d never been fired before so I wasn’t happy but at least
my days of playing Michael Bolton were over.
Now that my weekdays
were open, Metro Networks gave me more studio shifts on WMAQ
and started me on WGN (AM-720) and WBBM (AM-780).
Since The Blaze
had moved me up to the 2-7 slot on the weekends and Metro needed me
Monday through Friday, I had to move my “Monday Night Madman”
program as well as a local music showcase I had started on WRRG to
Saturdays.
I renamed the show
“Moldy Porridge” and on a lark, mailed the changes in the form of a
press release to the Chicago Sun-Times and the
Chicago Tribune.
On October 18th,
Robert Feder printed them in his media column in the Sun-Times
giving me my first mention in Chicago print. Photocopies of that
article accompanied a press release on the changes to the record
companies to give the illusion that they were somehow newsworthy in
Chicago when Feder was actually just filling up some space.
The Spring of 1994
saw the sale of The Blaze and as everybody scurried around
putting together demo tapes and resumes, I volunteered to do every shift
I could to make as much money as possible before the axe came swinging
my way.
We moved from the
Prudential building into the Hancock where we were given a closet down
the hall from the almighty LOOP (97.9-FM) and WMVP
(AM-1000). I suddenly found myself walking the hallways with the likes
of Jonathon Brandmier, Kevin Matthews, Steve Dahl, Gary Meir, and
Danny Bonaduce. Although I was treated like a red-headed
stepchild by all of them, I was still standing amongst them.
Eventually The
Blaze was completely gone. There were no DJs and we played
everything from Garth Brooks and Bing Crosby to Disco and
Guns & Roses. The only thing you heard other than music was a
monotone, robot-like voice that repeated the phrase “Re-evaluate
everything” between every song.
I was working six
days a week from Noon-8pm at the un-named station pushing buttons and
recording the barrage of angry phone calls for production use. From
there I’d leave the Hancock, grab something to eat and get to The
Merchandise Mart where I would do traffic for WMAQ and WGN
from 10p-6am. Go home, nap, shower, and be back at the Hancock at noon
the next day to start the cycle again.
Slowly some new faces
started appearing at what would become Rock 103-5 (WRCX).
First there was Lou Brutus, who I helped train to use the
equipment to do afternoon drive. Then came Jo Robinson, and the
rest. The last to come aboard was Mancow and the lineup was
complete.
The new program
director, Dave Richards, called a meeting of all the part-timers
that had kept the voiceless station afloat and it looked like the end
was at hand. One by one we were called into his office and one by one
we were fired.
I strolled in last
and sat staring out the window as he began talking about how much my
work had been appreciated and stuff, but a left-hook was approaching and
it landed without me ever seeing it. He offered to keep me aboard to do
weekends and fill-ins at an increase to twelve dollars an hour. Somehow
I survived again.
I continued the
WMAQ/WGN weekday, WRCX weekend thing for a year, doing odds
and ends whenever I could. It was during this time that I joined Tom
Thayer and Keith VanHorne’s program on the LOOP as a
character called “City Rat”. It was also during this time that I
committed the biggest radio mistake of my career.
My night shift at
WMAQ/WGN was a no-brainer. All I had to do was spit out the facts,
read the sponsor, and go away. Steve & Johnny on WGN would occasionally
ask me a question, but they were always harmless and the news anchors at
WMAQ never spoke to me at all. The only time I had to be alert was
during the “Sports Huddle” or after a Bulls or Sox game.
The Bulls were
winning another championship and the after-game stuff was run super
tight. When the game ended, a producer would call and tell me exactly
how long the traffic should be and there was hell to pay if I went even
a second too long. One night I was on the phone getting my instructions
when, for whatever reason, they hit the traffic sounder. I threw the
phone down, grabbed my headphones, flipped on the mic and chirped
“From the WGN traffic studios……” Yikes! I had identified the wrong
station.
To an average person
this may sound like a harmless gaffe, but in the radio world it’s an
extremely serious offense. I would have been better off saying –
“Here’s a look at the F*cking roads……” than utter the wrong call
letters, especially after a Bulls championship game when they had their
largest listening audience.
I didn’t get fired
immediately like I thought I would, but I was moved aside a few weeks
later, once they found a suitable replacement.
I was left with the
Tom & Keith show at the LOOP and my weekend gig at WRCX
for employment, which lasted until the famous Mancow/VanHorne encounter
that ended up with lawsuits flying and Tom and Keith pulled off the
air.
An interesting little
altercation that, for the record, I remember absolutely nothing about.
It was now the fall
of 1985 and I’d started working at a liquor store during the week to pay
the bills.
Mancow and his crew
came to Rolling Stone Records in my neighborhood on the promotional tour
for his first CD. It was around Thanksgiving and I was there to check
things out.
I ran into his
technical producer DJ Luv Cheeze out front and learned they’d
just fired their traffic rapper De LaRay for doing some side work for
Steve Dahl. I told him I could do the traffic until they found a
permanent replacement since I was doing overnights there anyway and he
hooked me up with an audition.
That Monday I went up
to the traffic deck at the top of the Hancock where I shared a small
studio with sportscaster “Psycho” Steve Grad. The phone rang a few
minutes before the show was to begin and Steve answered, looked at me,
said “whatever” and hung up. He turned to me and said, “Your name will
be Freak.” That’s how it all started.
For the next nine
years, I would be a part of “Mancow’s Morning Madhouse”,
traveling the country, meeting just about everybody, and getting away
with whatever I could. It was a great time and I have no regrets over
any of it, but in December of 2004 it was time to move on.
There are a lot of
theories floating around as to why I actually left the show. I was
fired, I wanted to be the next Mancow, my back hurt, I wanted more
money, or (my favorite) I was fired for ripping on William Shatner.
The truth of the
matter is I just needed a change. After nine years and four days of the
insanity, I just wanted to play some rock ‘n’ roll in a new set of
surroundings. So when The Zone (WZZN-94.7FM) started
playing heavier music, I defected.
Was it a so-called
vertical career move ?
No, I went from an
established syndicated morning show to a local rock station that was
just getting going.
Was it a bigger
payday?
No, I actually took a
pay cut and did less promotional work.
Did I feel better?
Absolutely. My
twenty-two months at The Zone were chaotic to say the least,
going through at least five morning show line-up changes before getting
shifted to afternoon drive, but I was mentally much happier.
The party ended at
11:30am on Monday September 26th.
I was on the Metra
train into work when my phone rang and it went down just like in the
movies.
A secretary told me
to hold for Jim Pastor (General Manager for ABC radio
Chicago) and since guys like him don’t call guys like me just to shoot
bull, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“As of Noon today,
The Zone will be known as Chicago’s True Oldies 94-7 and as a result,
your services will no longer be needed.”
I was fired. Seeing as I was almost downtown anyway I went in, grabbed
my headphones, my coffee cup, and a 15-pound barbell I used to toss
around while I was on the air and left. I may have also taken an
autographed Ozzy Osbourne lithograph off the wall but, for the
record, I don’t remember anything about that either.
All in all, not a bad
run for an accidental career I guess.
Spanning some twenty
years on a dozen stations with some of the biggest names in Chicago, I
did every aspect of radio broadcasting there is, including calling a
baseball game alongside a color commentator named Craig Lynch who was
completely blind.
Hell, I even got a
few awards along the way, though I’m not quite sure how.
Looking ahead I think
my wave may have finally hit the beach and it’s time to go away. I’ll
keep doing the motorcycle talk show “Open Road Radio”
every Sunday night (WCKG-105.9FM), as long as its fun.
I also keep doing my
new racing talk show “Lugnutz” on Monday evenings (WJOL-1340AM)
but that’s about it for radio.
I’m realizing my
version of the American dream by opening a roadhouse this summer, which
will feature all the junk I’ve amassed over the years and that’ll be
where I retire.
I’ll keep doing my
column in Midwest BEAT Magazine as long as I have
something say, call the demo-derbys every month out at Rt. 66 until they
run out of cars, and maybe even write a book some day. But that’s all
down the road. For now I think I’m just gonna relax.
Well, you won’t
believe this but the Southland’s Classic Rock station (WRXQ-100.7FM)
out here in Joliet just called...
Hmmmm...Maybe this
story ain’t over just yet.
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