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Date Posted: 21:16:50 12/07/09 Mon
Author: 
Page
Subject: Only one day late!
I'm just a glutton for punishment. I've begun working hard on Royal Orleans while editing Carey On. *G* But the editing is going much better than I'd expected, and I hope to have the book's second draft completed by the end of the year. We'll see how the holidays cooperate with that goal.
I'm really getting back into RO, and the story has changed a little from the first things I posted so long ago. For this week's check-in, I invite you into Sherry's workday.
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You turn me on, I'm a radio >>>> -- Page, 21:32:17 12/07/09 Mon
Sherry was two hours into her five-hour shift when June entered the control room with a cold can of Diet Pepsi and half a shrimp po’-boy sandwich.
“Here you are, sweetie. I can’t eat all this,” she said, placing the items on a clear section of the counter next to Sherry. “And your staff meeting is at one, by the way.”
“Dammit!” Sherry frowned. “Why does he always schedule these things during my shift? Let Chad run back and forth for once.”
June snorted. “Mr. Wonderful doesn’t run for anyone, you know that.”
June and Sherry shared a meaningful look about their conceited afternoon drive jock. He’d been particularly hard to live with since the latest ratings. Chad was still number one in his time slot, but had dropped a couple points from the previous Arbitron cycle. Refusing to believe that his exalted self had anything to do with it, he’d been stomping around for a week, blaming the rest of the on-air staff for his shrinking numbers.
“Prick,” Sherry muttered. When the numbers had come out, Chad had tried to place all the blame on Sherry since her shift was immediately before his, but had endured a stern lecture from Ralph who’d pointed out Sherry’s numbers had risen. Since then, Chad had made snarky comments about Sherry’s stealing his listeners, and she was tired of it all. If he said anything today, she intended to call him on it, staff meeting or no.
“Hey, thanks for the sandwich, June,” she said, dismissing Chad and his attitude. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t. But I know you like these and it’s always too much for one person.” June turned at the door. “Hey, will you play that song for me?”
Sherry waved a hand at the wall of records and arched a brow. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.”
“Oh, you know. It’s about a wolf, and some woman moans all through it at the end.”
A grimace creased Sherry’s face. “Not even for a woman who brings me a shrimp po-boy will I play Duran Duran. Sorry, June.”
June sighed. “It was worth a try.”
After June left, Sherry took a huge bite of the sandwich and sighed with delight. Chewing, she went to the record wall and began pulling albums that contained extra-long cuts. She’d need them if she was going to have to attend that stupid staff meeting.
The meeting was much as Sherry had expected. Dewayne began with a terse lecture on FCC anti-obscenity laws, the expectations of WROK’s clients for “good, clean programming,” and dire warnings for the next jock who let so much as a “damn” slip by. By the time he’d completed this well-rehearsed, often-heard soliloquy, Sherry was exhausted from running from the conference room where the meeting was being held, to the control room to start another extra-long song, and back again.
She could tell by Dewayne’s demeanor when he began shifting from ass-chewing mode to the sore subject of having a morning team consisting of Ralph and Sherry. It was at that point she called a halt to her presence in the conference room by saying she was afraid her listeners would think she’d had bad seafood for lunch since she’d played almost every bathroom-break song in the station’s library. “Layla,” “Starship Trooper,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and “Free Bird” had been spinning while Sherry ran from one room to the other, and it was getting old.
Soon after settling back into her regular routine, Dewayne entered the control room.
“Sorry ‘bout all the running around, Sherry,” he rumbled.
“What say we make Chad do it next time?” She refused to meet the station manager’s eyes, just knowing he was preparing to pitch that morning team concept to her again.
“Nah, his numbers are slipping. He can’t afford a half-hour of straight music.” Dewayne settled himself into the metal folding chair, crossing his legs. His tasseled loafers had, as always, a perfect shine, his dark blue dress pants were perfectly creased, and his white button-down shirt looked as if it had just come from the dry cleaner’s that moment.
Sherry watched in trepidation as he loosened the knot on his red and white striped tie. If the knot was loose, it meant he was going to be there a while.
“You didn’t play ‘Stairway to Heaven.’”
“Huh?” Sherry was caught off-guard.
“Well, you played every other bathroom song out there, but not ‘Stairway to Heaven.’ I just wondered.” Dewayne grinned at her discomfiture.
Regaining her composure, Sherry shrugged. “I played ‘Kashmir’ instead. It’s longer. Besides, I played ‘Stairway’ yesterday.”
“You know something, Sherry?” Dewayne ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I appreciate the way you keep track of things like that. Remembering what you played yesterday, and sticking to the format.”
Holding up a finger, Sherry slipped the headphones on her head and switched on the mic, muting the music coming from the overhead speakers. She potted down the song playing and reached behind her for the back turntable switch.
“WROK, with the new one from Toto. That one’s called ‘Rosanna.’ It’s one-forty-two on your Friday afternoon, and a beautiful, sunny seventy-eight degrees. I’m Sherry with you until three, and then the multi-talented Chad Ryker will drive you home. Here’s Van Halen on WROK, New Orleans’ premiere rock radio.”
Sherry simultaneously turned on the turntable, potted down the mic and switched it off before pulling her headphones down around her neck.
“Sorry, Dewayne. You were saying?”
“Look, Sherry. It’s no secret we want to make some changes around here, and the last ratings have given us more reason than ever.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “No, let me finish. You’ve made it quite clear you don’t want to do mornings, and we respect that. What we’re thinking is to switch you and Chad, have you do afternoons and put Chad on middays. What do you think about that idea?”
Sherry blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that at all, and she was intrigued. She turned away to cue up a record and shove carts half-way into the machine for the next commercial break, her mind whirling from what Dewayne had said.
As far as she was aware, there were no other women on afternoon drive in the New Orleans radio market. She’d be the first, and it would be a huge boost to her career. Her name recognition would hit an all-time high, and it might even bring her talents to the attention of the networks. But would WROK make it worth her while?
Swiveling the chair back around to face Dewayne, she steeled herself. “What’s the deal with that?”
“Same as you have now,” he said, his dark blue eyes hopeful. “No weekends, no remotes. You stop by so many of the remotes anyway, even if you’re not being paid to do them. Sure does bring out the guys when you do. I just want you to know it’s been noticed, and appreciated.”
Sherry nodded, stunned. Praise for anything besides ratings was rare in radio, and she was pleased at the station manager’s comment. “Thank you, Dewayne. So, no weekends, no remotes, and three-to-seven afternoon drive?”
“A four-hour shift instead of the five you do now, and it’s more money.” Dewayne leaned forward in anticipation.
Sherry bit her lip. It seemed like a good offer, but coming out of the blue the way it had…
“Shit! Dead air!” She quickly pushed a green button and started the canned jingle already in place in the cart machine. As it ended, she started the next record and pushed the rest of the carts all the way in the machine. “Sorry, Dewayne, I had my head up my ass.”
“No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. Besides, you caught it almost before I noticed. Nobody hears silence better than a radio jock. So, back to our original subject. What do you say?”
“Can I think about it this weekend and let you know on Monday?”
Dewayne nodded. “No problem. That’s one of the reasons I laid it on you now, so you’d have a couple days to mull it over.” He rose to his feet, pushing the knot of his tie back up. “Just let me know on Monday. If we’re gonna do this, we’ll need to start when the next ratings cycle begins. We’ll have to change billboards, jingles, all that.”
“I’ll tell you on Monday.” Sherry smiled as he left the control room. They'd also have to deal with the melt-down she was sure Chad would have upon hearing the news, and that itself would be worth coming in early on Monday.
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Love the glimpse into Sherry's routine -- Debi, 22:12:10 12/07/09 Mon
>Sherry was two hours into her five-hour shift when
>June entered the control room with a cold can of Diet
>Pepsi and half a shrimp po’-boy sandwich.
mmmm.... shrimp po' boy....
>
>“Hey, thanks for the sandwich, June,” she said,
>dismissing Chad and his attitude. “You didn’t have to
>do that.”
>
>“I know I didn’t. But I know you like these and it’s
>always too much for one person.” June turned at the
>door. “Hey, will you play that song for me?”
>
>Sherry waved a hand at the wall of records and arched
>a brow. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.”
>
>“Oh, you know. It’s about a wolf, and some woman
>moans all through it at the end.”
>
>A grimace creased Sherry’s face. “Not even for a
>woman who brings me a shrimp po-boy will I play Duran
>Duran. Sorry, June.”
LOL! Do you and Sherry share the same tastes? I have to admit, when I was 17, I liked Duran Duran. Of course, I like the nostalgia their music brings. But My musical states have expanded so much sine then... I don't think I could listen to more than a couple of songs before I'd have to put on some hard-core blues or something else equally old-school. With very few exceptions, the 80's were pretty bereft of mauch real talent, IMNSHO...;-)
>
>June sighed. “It was worth a try.”
>
>After June left, Sherry took a huge bite of the
>sandwich and sighed with delight. Chewing, she went
>to the record wall and began pulling albums that
>contained extra-long cuts. She’d need them if she was
>going to have to attend that stupid staff meeting.
>
I once listened to the entire back side of the Beatles Abbey Road. Only when it came to the end, and a few extra seconds of quiet, did the announcer come on and say that great b-sdes were a godsend to disc jockeys at certain times. It was implied that maybe she'd had some bad clams or something...;-)
>
>
>
It was at that point she called a halt to her presence
>in the conference room by saying she was afraid her
>listeners would think she’d had bad seafood for lunch
>since she’d played almost every bathroom-break song in
>the station’s library. “Layla,” “Starship Trooper,”
>“Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and “Free Bird” had been
>spinning while Sherry ran from one room to the other,
>and it was getting old.
Ooohhh!! Dark Side of the Moon is a good one too! Too early for your time frame?
>
>Regaining her composure, Sherry shrugged. “I played
>‘Kashmir’ instead. It’s longer. Besides, I played
>‘Stairway’ yesterday.”
>
I wonder if it's easier these days, what with everything all digitized. I mean, I can bring up my iTunes and sort by time... Karn Evil 9 is pretty damn long too, I discover, just by doing that. It it different in radio? I'm just curious. I've always thought radio would be fun in a lot of ways.
Cool! She gets the nice afternoon spot and jerkoff Chad gets to get to work earlier...
I'm really enjoying watching this story unfold. Keep it coming!
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The inside scoop >>>> -- Page, 22:40:37 12/07/09 Mon
Oh, I MISS po'boys! Subs aren't the same thing, no matter what anyone says. Po'boys are subs with attitude.
The Duran Duran thing really happened. Our station secretary, whose name was Ann, actually asked me to that song in the exact same way June asked Sherry. My response was the same. *G* Most 80s music makes me cringe. I never listened to it, even when I had to play it, but I danced my butt off to it. *G* I used to go to this club in Mobile with my friend Jackie, and when we walked in, the DJ would immediately start playing "Turning Japanese" so we'd get out there and dance. LOL!
Back in the day, the radio announcer had to time out the hour. We'd tot up how many minutes of commercials we'd have, and then pick the music. There were always current songs we'd have to play, and we'd fill in with requests (if we liked them! *G*), and anything else we wanted. If there was a live newscast, we'd have to time it out to the exact minute. I was rubbish at it, too, I might add, and usually just talked up to the news. Rare was the occurence when a song would end right when the news began!
Nowadays, a computer does it all. The music director puts all the songs onto the hard drive, the traffic director enters the commercials, and the program director determines when the commercial breaks will occur. The computer then schedules the whole day. If there are too many songs for the hour, it just skips them, and starts the new hour. And network newscasts are never live. They record automatically, and then play back at the scheduled time. Nine times out of ten, the DJ isn't live, either. Before I got out of radio, I could go into the production room and record an entire four-hour show in fifteen minutes. I'd be writing copy, or recording commercials in another room while I was "on the air." It's why I quit. Everything is so regimented now, and there's no room for deviation. Next time you listen to the radio, see if the commercial breaks don't occur at 10 minutes after the top of the hour, 20 after, 40 after, and 50 after. And the weather at 20 and 50. And if there are only three breaks, I'd lay odds they skip the one at 10. *G*
Royal Orleans is my chance to relive the good old days. LOL!
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Cool! Learn something new every day. -- Debi, 06:35:55 12/08/09 Tue
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Okay, you are using southernisms on me again!! -- Fel, 15:25:03 12/09/09 Wed
I trust you will forgive an ignorant Yankee for not quite understanding the difference between a po'boy and a sub???
Ok, so I see this is from your other story Royal Orleans , yes?
Sherry seems like a good strong female character. I am guessing that Chad is the arch-nemesis turned lover? Or am I all wrong??? This is the first excerpt I have read from this story of yours.
I enjoyed reading this, Page. Keep up the good work!!
Fel
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Ah, po'boys! >>>>> -- Page, 18:23:56 12/09/09 Wed
A po'boy is a lot like a sub in the way it looks from the outside, but it's ever so much better! *G* First of all, a real po'boy has to be served on Louisiana french bread, which is not regular french bread. It's crustier for one thing, and the inside is divine. Most real po'boys are made with seafood. Doesn't matter if it's shrimp, oysters, crab or crawfish. And it's always served hot. You can also get a roast beef po'boy, smothered in gravy. If you want lettuce, tomato and mayo, you have to ask for it to be "dressed," otherwise that stuff's left off. Non-seafood po'boys have Creole mustard, unless you specify regular yellow American mustard. A real po'boy from the Gulf Coast is beyond divine, and I sure do miss them.
Yep, Royal Orleans is the working title of this one. I'm glad you like Sherry! Chad, though, won't be her lover; he's that guy everyone has to work with at one time or another -- a total jerk, and so full of himself he squeaks. *G* No, Sherry's lover will be Geoff. Eventually!
Hugs,
Page
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