Sunday Wrap

That's a wrap



Sunday Wrap

Monday August 15, 2011

Rant D’Jour Some of the names here have been changed to protect the guilty and the innocent…

Blog Post The road I live on in rural PA, while heavily traveled, is not overly populated. In fact for three miles…

Tuesday August 16, 2011

Rant D’Jour Road rage rules…

Blog Post Tuesday Review – Barbey’s Version

Wednesday August 17, 2011

Rant D’Jour Here’s something you can do in your spare time. Get your local TV or radio station in trouble and possibly cost it $325,000 or more…

Blog Post WEEKENDER Column- Judged Mark

Thursday August 18, 2011

Rant D’Jour I hate butts and I cannot lie…

Blog Post Radio DaZe: Meet the new boss – It’s ME!

Friday August 19, 2011

Rant D’Jour It’s raining inside our house…

Blog Post Picture This: Robotic Parking Garages…

Saturday August 20, 2011

Rant D’Jour I owe George Carlin big time.

Blog Post Aggregate Saturday: The LSW leaves town. I bitch about the pool. And I LOVE Coffee.

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Oxymorons


Oxymoron’s.
I love them. Sometimes they are meant to be serious and that’s what makes them all the more lovable. “Impotent rage” is a good one. Think about being that mad that you can’t…well you know what you can’t. Now that’s mad!

How about the sign I saw at a flea market the other day. “New antiques arriving daily.” I knew there was a factory someplace. Probably the same place that makes “Authentic Reproductions.” Or that “Priceless junk.” You can bring them all home in a “new used car.”

“Safe sex” gets me to laughing whenever I am in a bank. I know that I have been drunk but have I ever been “legally drunk?” I wonder at what point it becomes legal? Just before slurring your words? And how can you be a “devout atheist?” Who do you pray to? Is it permissible to say “Thank God I’m an atheist?”

Why is it when someone shares a sandwich with you they always take the “larger half?” How do they do that? Why don’t they just take the “whole piece?” And is it possible to have a “one hundred percent chance” of anything happening?

It’s probably some sort of character flaw on my part but whenever I see a traffic sign that says “watch children” I think about small watches. And I wonder what the pedophiles do when they see those signs?

Here’s one that needs no further explanation. A sheet in a long report that reads “This page intentionally left blank.” No it’s not. I read a blog the other day where the author was proud of his “unbiased opinion.” I guess if he was a movie reviewer he would call a film “unbelievably real.”

All this work is making me hungry. Do you know where I can get a “well done steak?” I mean one that isn’t overcooked of course. Never mind, I’ll just have some “grape nuts.” Wait.. there isn’t any of either in here. And how am I supposed to tell the difference between “half dressed” and “half naked?” And why do they need a “dressing room” in a strip club?

And although I am not a fan of any sport where the winner knocks his opponent out did they think really hard before that named it a “Boxing ring?” Maybe a few too many blows to the head there. The other day I got my car repaired and before they started they offered me an “exact estimate.” I thought it was too good to be true but I was “cautiously optimistic.”

But the best oxymoron is on my computer. To shut it down you click “start”.

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Aggregate Saturday

Aggregate Saturday:

This is written at 05:17 ET – long-suffering wife is off to Pompton Lakes NJ. Its like the punch line to a joke.
She says: “Kiss me where it smells.” So he takes her to New Jersey.

Her trek is with her sister to “The Gathering” 2011 version. It’s held at “Sunnybank.” As far as the eye can see there will be collies at the former home of Albert Payson Terhune. He wrote “Lad: a dog” and many other collie stories.

I have to work. I have also had my fill of “Sunnybank” having visited there more than I could wish for. I am not against dogs, collies. But I also not a a big fan.

Wow – coffee at 5am is really good. Yeah for coffee.

I will admit it feels a little odd, not preparing for class. I will miss some things about teaching. The inquiring young eager minds. The interaction with colleagues. The short shorts.

I have this stack of stuff just sitting in my office left over from the last school year. I really need to get rid of it. Maybe today is the day. I don’t know if it’s procrastination or just not wanting to let the school thing die.
Probably just lazy, I guess.

The pool is now in it’s pain in the ass mode. I won’t swim again. But it’s too soon to pull the cover over it. And now I have to run the filter becasue otherwise leaves that fall end up on the bottom. Pools are great…about one week a year here in the great Northeast.

Why do they make bottles that won’t stand up in a refrigerator with open grates? We carefully choose h20 bottles that have flat bottoms for this reason. It’s a selling point for us. I just bought a 12 pack of Snapple with this issue. Every time we move something in the fridge, they all fall down. The LSW LOVES this. Very few things will cause her to swear. This will. They were packed so I could not see the bottoms. My story. I am sticking to it.

OK: I am a physical train-wreck. AND I have paying on an unused GYM membership, which is the worst part of all. Guilt-trip time. Back on Monday you lazy fool.

Did I mention how good coffee is at the time in the am? I mean it’s always good but now..it’s like a cold beer after mowing the lawn good.
_
I got the bottom half of the ranch acres cut, speaking of lawn mowing. Back forty is still sink into your calves wet. We have had a LOT of rain here. I did the in-laws (takes about an hour) then the did the bottom half with just the walk behind. True, it is self-propelled. But it still put me on the couch for the rest of the day. I am a physical train-wreck. I used to be able to do the whole deal then create mischief. Now mischief is a dim memory.

Well, not a dim memory. I remember mischief VERY well. But my mind writes checks that my body will not even consider cashing.

LSW is about to take flight. Her first solo trip with the new car and first time driving in NJ. I wish I was going just for this fact.

Google analytics says that all of you reading this have disappeared again. Overnight. I don’t believe it when it says that. I also don’t belive it when it says there lot of you. Quite possibly I should stop looking at it. I used to live and die by the Arbitron ratings in radio. Do I need this? Curse you, god of measurement.

In any case, thanks for reading. Both of you.

-30-

Rant D’Jour I owe George Carlin big time.
I love oxymorons.more

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Picture this: Robotic Parking Garages

I remember Popluar Mechanics doing an article about parking garages that stacked cars like this…or maybe it was MAD magazine. I read both avidly. And both fired my imagination equally as a kid.

Everything old...

..is new again.

Rant D’Jour Our roof leaks.
It has rained steady for the last 24 hours. Heavy pouring rain at times. It was falling so hard at one point last night it sounded like a freight train was rolling across the roof…more

-30-

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It’s Raining, It’s Pouring…


It has rained steady for the last 24 hours. Heavy pouring rain at times. It was falling so hard at one point last night it sounded like a freight train was rolling across the roof.

The Rising ranch was built sometime in the 1940’s. I am guessing it started as a one floor dwelling and at some point they added another story. The upstairs is equipped with a dormer and the roof above that is, unfortunately flat. Every year during the winter it builds up an ice dam on the edge, ends up with standing water and leaks into what is now my office.

Since I am home all day now, mostly, the second story flood watch falls to me. Yesterday I had a bunch of errands to run. Change the oil on my car, meet someone for lunch etc.

I didn’t make it back home till late. Shortly after I got home so did the long suffering wife.

I heated up the supper and she walked into the kitchen, slipped and damn near ended up on her behind. What? Water on the floor. Her first thought of course is that I spilled some, but further investigation turned up the real Uh Oh. My office was flooded! Mops and buckets and towels and pots and pans. Some fun.

Later on I was in my easy chair half dozing in front of a dumb movie when I heard my wife shriek and then a tremendous crash. I levitated off the chair and flew up the stairs. The long suffering wife had tried to closely examine the ceiling by standing on my office chair-the one with wheels. Fill in the blanks. She is fine. My heart rate is nearly back to normal.

The basement of the Rising ranch is prone to flooding as well. Because of this and at some expense we had two giant holes dug at the low end and installed two sump pumps. Another time I will recount the story of what happened before the sump pumps.

About three am last night I woke up and listened to the sump pumps run. They are supposed to shut off when the water level in the hole drops. They were running continuously. I went down to investigate and found Niagara Falls in my basement. The water was coming in too fast for the pumps to keep up!

This really sucks. We have water coming in top and bottom.

The garage is flooded as well. I haven’t checked the studio yet. It’s on top of the garage and got a new roof last year so it should be ok.

Any old time the weather would like to give us a break that would be fine.

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Radio DaZe: Meet the new boss

Radio DaZe: Meet the new boss:

The next few months went by very fast. I was learning more about my craft every day and I was happy being a new father. Happy other than the fact that my son must have cried every waking moment from birth. We did have some family issues mostly relevant to our living arrangements but those will come to a head in a bit.

Unbeknownst to me and I imagine most of the staff of WCFR the Zezza’s were selling the station. I was too awestruck with the fun and excitement of actually being on the air at an honest to goodness top-40 station to notice and frankly too dumb to see the signs.

The news broke and I was still too naïve to perceive this as a threat. I was just too green to know that usually a new ownership brought in all their own people. So when they broke it to the staff I was not nervous or even concerned in the least. This probably worked in my favor.

I don’t really recall how it happened so I have pieced together this story. Dylan McDermit, the current PD quit in a snit immediately upon hearing the news.

“I’m not working for those assholes,” he said.

I’m not too sure Dylan knew those “assholes” and I suspect that Dylan considered most everybody but Dylan an asshole. Oddly enough in a forty year career in the management of radio stations I NEVER heard his name again.

The new management lined all the remaining announcers and news people up in a row.

“Anyone who wants to be the program director take a step forward,” the new owners said.

I stood still and all the rest took a step back. I was PD.

(I know, it’s an old joke. I will be honest; I really do NOT recall how I was appointed PD. I also don’t recall getting a raise.)

Wow. I had gone from unemployed and suicidal to being a new dad, a PD in charge of a real Top-40 radio station and all in less than 6 months. It was pretty heady stuff for a guy who was not yet old enough to legally drink. (I would turn 21 in a few months.)

Radio formats revolve around “Hot Clocks”- graphic representations of the hour in a round shape. I was a terrible artist so I am sure mine were crude compared to this.

Oddly enough the size of a 45 rpm record was just right to fit on an 8 ½ x 11 sheet of paper. You drew around the outside edge of the record and then used a ruler to make the divisions.

Up until I took over WCFR was rather loosely formatted. Dylan had a laissez-faire attitude towards it, more lazy than fair. Actually, in retrospect I think Dylan saw the change in ownership coming and just didn’t give a fuck.
There were “Hot Clocks” but only in a very generic sense. The order of the top-40 songs was generated by the rack with the 40 songs in it. You played the # 1 song in the rack, then # 2 on down until you hit #40 then you started again. In between you played an “Oldie” that you picked from all the old records at random and then an “Album” cut from the stack of LP’s. Lather, rinse and repeat.

There was no real control over how often or what was played other than the 40 Top-40 songs repeated in the same order all week long until the new Billboard charts came out. It was not very scientific but it was a small town with little competition so I suppose it worked well enough.

Rick Kelly and I changed all that. To be fair I knew less about formats than Rick did. He had the advantage of having grown up close to New York City, close enough to hear WABC and more important he had the smarts to dissect what they were doing. Me, I just wanted to talk on the radio and play rock and roll records.

Together we brought WCFR into the modern era of radio formats.

The Top-40 songs were broken up into categories, “A”s were the top five most popular, “B”s were the 11 or so under the “A”s and “C”s were the 15 or so remaining. “D”s were a floating number of newer songs. These were all called “Currents.”

The Hotclocks would call for three “A”s an hour. This meant that the top five songs were repeated every 2 ½ hours. 2 “B”s an hour saw those played 5 ½ hours and so on.

In addition we created a category for songs that fell out of the current rotations called “recurrents” the idea being that songs that were popular did not just go into oldies rotations but were still being given significant airplay.
As long as the counts remained consistent the rotations worked like clockwork, but with this important difference. The songs repeated a lot but not in the same position or hour from day to day. It gave the illusion of playing more music than we really were. Of course you had to trust that the announcers would follow the rotations.

The “Oldies” got the same sort of treatment. The most popular ones were called “Power Oldies” and got played more than secondary or tertiary songs. As long as the clock “calls” and the numbers of songs in the category were carefully maintained the system worked. The rotation of oldies depended on a certain amount of trust of the announcers. Oddly enough the boxes of paper used to feed the UPI/AP teletype printers were just the right size for 45’s. The idea was you pulled the first song, played it and replaced it in the back of the box insuring rotation.

The paper came in a long, narrow box, in folds.

Later on there would be ways of making sure announcers complied with rotations and hotclocks. For now it was part of the PD’s job (as I saw it) to be a format “cop” and I was good at it, so good that some announcers were convinced I was peering over their shoulders. I became adept at catching DJ’s “breaking format” and was a stern taskmaster to those that dared.

Home life became somewhat tense with my promotion. First off we had taken an apartment (it was cheap, I am guessing) ABOVE the landlords. Bad idea. We were a young married couple, we had a newborn who CRIED ALLTHE TIME and…
I was in the process of learning radio management skills. I had to learn while doing so much of my time even when I was home was spent glued to tape recorders, listening to records and talking with radio addicts like me.
And I wasn’t home much.

The big problem was that I had to pretty much staff the radio station from top to bottom. Most of the old guard from the Zezza days had fled the operation like rats from a sinking ship. So I had a seemingly golden opportunity to bring in all my old radio buddies and college friends. I hired a lot of them and they all ended up sleeping on our couch while they found apartments. Plus we had more than our share of rowdy get-togethers. Drunken ones.

To be fair it must have been hell on the landlords underneath us. The Dubaneviches evicted us after a few months. It was not a happy time. Added to all this I was carrying a scary secret around with me.

I had always had “panic attacks” but now they came more often than ever, more than once daily. The rooms would become larger until I couldn’t reach door knobs. The effect was like being on acid, without having any warning of when it was to occur. The stress of being a new PD, a new boss to all these people and a new father was getting to me. I never told anyone. It was the beginning of a pattern of keeping personal problems to myself.


NEXT:
We move across the river. The diet doctor. And the radio empire expands.

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Butt Out!


I hate it when people throw cigarette butts out of the car window.

In general I think littering should be a bigger crime than it is. It’s rude vile and disgusting. But in case of the butts it’s dangerous too. Why is it ok to flick a lit cigarette out of a car window? What are the ashtrays for, anyway? Oh I know what you are going to say. Modern cars don;t have ashtrays. Gee, I wonder why that is?

I can’t tell you how many times I have ridden behind someone in my little roller skate MG with the top down and prayed that the tossed butt wouldn’t land in my car. I haven’t smoked for a long long time. So long that I can’t really tell you if I used to chuck the tail ends of my smoke out the window. I do know most of what I was smoking when I was smoking wouldn’t ever have been thrown away. Heh.

I now chew gum and my wife gets livid with me when I spit it out the window. I fail to see where that’s as bad as the butts. The gum won’t catch anything on fire. It will disintegrate with time unlike the filters on the butts which will probably be around for a millennium or two. And the worst that might happen is you might get my wad on your shoe.

Why does it piss me off so much when someone tosses a butt out? Why do I want to grab a lit cigarette and toss it in their window? I think I need therapy.

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WEEKENDER Column


WEEKENDER Column:

I hate to add to the tsunami of ink about the Judged Mark Ciavarella. Other, better scribes than myself have done it more justice. But I do have a few things that I think need to be underlined. Forgive me if I seem a little angry here.

“I hate to gloat about the sentence..,” my brother in-law said to me the day the sentence was passed.

“It’s not nice to gloat,” he added.

I don’t think that this frothy, effervescent, delicious feeling can really be called gloating. Christian courtesy tells us not to be happy about another’s misfortune. I guess once and for all I cannot be called as a Christian if I am not allowed to feel good about “scooch” (rhymes with pooch) spending whatever portion of his 28 year sentence he actually serves in discomfort.

The main reason for my hopes for an unpleasant jail term for Judged Mark? Other than the fact that he caused so many others suffering in order to line his pockets? His unbelievable arrogance on the stand in reading the 2702 word statement prior to his sentencing Thursday.

I won’t dignify the Judged’s words by reprinting them in any significant portion here. You can find the entire nauseating text easily enough. I do suggest reading them on an empty stomach, because you will not find them pleasant. They are like the squeals of a little boy, caught, but too childish to own up to his crimes.

Early on in his repugnant denial, that he uttered on the stand in a court of law, the same type of court he made a mockery of, Judged Mark Ciavarella said:
“Please do not accept what I am about to say as being ignorant, cocky, arrogant, or unrealistic.”

The quotation “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” comes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act III, scene II. The phrase has come to mean that one can “insist so passionately about something not being true that people suspect the opposite of what one is saying.”

Judged Mark Ciavaella will have a long time, hopefully, to think about the true meanings of the words, ignorant, cocky and arrogant.

As for unrealistic, I think there will be quite a lot of realism in the grey bar hotel that he will find himself in. I hope so.

-30-

Rant D’Jour Is about swearing on Radio and TV.

Here’s something you can do in your spare time. Get your local TV or radio station in trouble and possibly cost it $325,000 or more.

-30-

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%&@!

Here’s something you can do in your spare time. Get your local TV or radio station in trouble and possibly cost it $325,000 or more.

All you have to do is get one of the “seven deadly words” on the air.

The Federal Communications commission has now declared that the occasional fleeting expletive, like Bono saying the “f word” when he got the Golden Globe award is grounds for a fine. And the fine is $325,000 for each occasion. It doesn’t matter if the swear is said by an actor, an anchor or a bystander on the street near a remote broadcast. If it gets on the air then the station can be fined.

Here’s some inside information from a former radio guy. All stations are supposed to be on a delay when there is chance of someone swearing. That’s why on a talk radio show you will occasionally hear awkward silences or abrupt ends to phone calls. The technician running the show has “dumped” the swearword. But the fact is once the techie has dumped a call then the delay takes some time to reset. So if you ever hear that happen, call right away and swear your head off. They will be able to cut you off but not before you get some colorful language out. I suggest shouting “F… communism.” Who can argue with that?

The truth of the matter is many stations don’t bother with a delay. Show them the error of their ways!

Another prime time to cost your local TV or Radio station some big bucks is to pester them at live broadcasts. If you see a bored looking DJ at a car dealership doing a “Live action Broadcast” chances are the event is not on delay. Wait till he or she starts to speak then let the f-bombs rip. Same deal with a live shot from a TV station. Be one of those jerks who jump up and down in view of the camera trying to get on the TV. Then when the red light goes on cut loose. Bring a megaphone to help get your point across.

Of course you will quite possibly get arrested or maybe a punch or two in the face. But then you could have the fun and excitement of a free speech trial.

By the way make sure to have a tape recorder running or your TIVO set. You will need to send a record of the event to the folks at the F.C.C. Anonymous is fine. They just need to have an actual record to act.

Obviously I am NOT advocating any of the above. I am just trying to make a point. If swear words get on the air, I can agree that’s a bad thing. And radio stations and TV stations do work hard to make sure it doesn’t happen. But sometimes it does. It’s almost always by accident. And most people won’t notice if the news reporter drops something and says “Shit!” And if you are going to make a federal case out of something like that then I suggest a course of therapy and a strong psychoactive drug might help.

Maybe the F.C.C. can pay for it when they start collecting those fines.

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Tuesday Review: Barney’s Version

Tuesday Review:

Barney’s Version
2010 R 134 minutes

I dislike films that live in multiple flashbacks. It is a personal thing, having to do with a short attention span and a faulty memory. I get confused early on when the movie’s action keeps coming unstuck in time and I have trouble enough following the action in a regular linear plot line.

Having said that, I really liked this film, and it was because of the time shifts and not in spite of it.

Barney’s Version
is a small film, tiny really, but it has a big heart. It’s a real love story with a twisted ending that is beautifully directed, artfully played and just very well done.

The author of the book the film was adapted from, Mordecai Richler, was a Canadian Jewish author, screenwriter and essayist who passed away before seeing the film project come to fruition. That’s too bad as I think he would have been pleased. The film is by turns, funny, caustic, melancholy, unendurably sad and ultimately honestly uplifting.

The casting of Paul Giamatti as the title role, Barney Panofsky seems unlikely at first but as the film progresses it’s an inspired choice. Giamatti brings just the right amount of goofy sincerity to the role and in the end is just perfect.

Dustin Hoffman as Izzy Panofsky, Barney’s ner’do well father in a largely uncredited role (he’s listed last in the trailer credits) is charming and may the best thing he’s done in years.

Rosamund Pike as Barney’s third wife is note perfect and apparently this film blew up her career bigtime as we will shortly see her in The Sea (pre-production) as Connie Grace 2012, Clash of the Titans 2 (post-production) as Andromeda 2011 and The Big Year (post-production).

But the real star of the show and somewhat of a mystery is how director Richard J. Lewis, whose sole previous film credit is Whale Music (1994) (didn’t see it? It grossed $39k) made the leap from TV (Family Law, The Defenders and a raft of CSI episodes) to this real film, full of heart and nuances not seen in the small screen venue he is used to. You done good, boychik.

Oh yeah, Minnie Driver as the 2nd Mrs. P. is also in the film…

SPOLIER ALERT:
Barney gets Alzheimer’s. It is here in one of the most honest and realistic portrayals of this disease I have ever seen, Giamatti really pulls out all the stops by underplaying with scary accuracy the descent into “the long goodbye” that becomes more common every day. You also, done good, boychik.

There is also this bizarre sub-plot about a murder. Or is it?

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