Saturday, December 31, 2016

Farewell 2016...


There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
~C.S. Lewis

2016 id overwhelming to look back on. It was a mixed bag of life changing, fantastic moments and gut level lows. December has felt like a nonstop bitch slap to the face, one that I've learned from. Somewhere along the way sleep and self care was knocked down on my to-do list and boy have I paid. After a month of struggling to work and speak through bronchial pneumonia, I get it.

I will pace myself better in 2017. Good things will continue to come even if I take a day off and the tough stuff will feel easier to handle with extra rest.I hear ya 2016, loud and clear.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

George Michael's Death Feels Like Slamming the Door on My Childhood




I can still see my dad coming through the door with a big grin on his face. It was the summer of 1984 and he was carrying a record in his right hand. That sight was actually quite familiar because back then dad worked at a radio station and he made a habit of “borrowing” records overnight. He would tape them on a scrap tape and then add the song to the mixtape in his expansive musical library where he thought it sounded best. The next morning he would slip that record back into the pile at work and act as if he never had it in the first place. On this particular occasion it was a group called Wham! That had put the smile on his face. He was barely in the door when he began telling me about the song and how I had to hear it, right then and there.

I followed dad upstairs and curled up in his big green arm chair as he fiddled with his turntable before turning to put his headphones on my head. I had just turned thirteen and was already familiar with Wham! It was that pretty boy George and the other guy. They wore short shorts while dancing around in big “choose life” shirts. Bubble gum pop wasn't exactly dad's thing so I was a bit shocked by his excitement, until the music started. I sat listening, just melting into the saxophone and the smokey vocals of “Careless Whisper”. I looked at dad and he knew that I totally got it. I couldn't put my reaction into words any better than him, but I shared his excitement. Thirty-two years later nothing really compares to the feeling of finding a piece of music that, for whatever reason, resonates. It's private and it's personal, yet it's a feeling that millions of people understand without any explanation ever being needed.

Learning of George Michael's death was like a knife piercing through my thirteen year old heart. It's a feeling that 2016 has brought my way a few times too many.

Musicians like David Bowie, Glenn Frey and of course, Prince. Sitcom parents like Florence Henderson and Alan Thicke. Hell even fake villains like Stefano DiMera on “Days Of Our Lives” wasn't safe from the grim reaper that this year ultimately turned into. Online conversation echoes what has been said at work around the proverbial good old water cooler- and that's that 2016 needs to just stop already. Those of us that came of age in 1980-something need the sadness to stop and we need to roll into 2017 with at least some of our childhood icons untouched.

I mean, have you really thought about why the collective loss of so many celebs seems to be cutting so many of us to the core? I don't know about you but I feel that with every death I feel just a little bit older. The sometimes harsh reality is that those of us that were teenagers when Headbangers Ball was first a thing and when dressing in the perfect mix of neon, lace bows and rubber bracelets were a fashion “do”, aren't getting any younger. In fact, we are teetering around age fifty, give or take a few years.

Fifty. Remember when thirty sounded absolutely ancient? Now add two decades. I can still rap right along with the Beastie Boys, but I have a husband, kids, a house, grand babies, work stress and all sorts of daily multitasking to accomplish. I'm at an age where I'm fortunate to still have my parents but many of my friends have buried theirs. It's also a time in my life when so many around me have waged their own life and death health battles that I can't help but wonder when it'll be my turn. Sometimes the only thing during the day that takes me back in time to when finding the perfect shade of Princely nail polish was my only care in the world is spending four minutes in the car listening to “When Doves Cry” on blast.

Adulting is hard and we naturally hang on to every thing that takes us back to an easier time. Watching as 2016 has systematically picked off parts of my own pop culture history has felt like slowly shutting the door on my own childhood. Every generation has watched as their own icons have fallen, but never
like this. The internet, with its' developing stories, instantaneous tributes and social media platforms that allow us to grieve side-by-side with complete strangers has also made the death of Michael, Bowie and Prince that much more palpable. It hurts to think that there will be no more new music, interviews or live appearances and it's now okay to admit that hurt, because it has become a hugely shared experience. One that actually seems to somehow help.

Why is it that we appreciate people a little more after they draw their final breath? I've been listening to George Michael all morning long- wondering why I don't do it more often. How is it that people end up being placed on a glass pedestal after their death rather than being fully appreciated while they are here on earth?

I'll be just as glad as everyone else to slam the door shut on 2016 and I'm going to cross my fingers and hope really hard that January will be the start of a gentler year. But the lessons of this ones haven't been lost on me. Nothing and no one is permanent. I'll appreciate people and their talent while it's unfolding in front of me. Assuming that they'll always be there when I have more time or feel like paying attention is just foolish. Oh and that bucket list? Well, maybe it's time to buy the damn tickets rather than waiting until the next tour... next year... or eventually. I added George Michael to my concert bucket list after Prince died and well, I should have seen him when I had a chance ten years ago. I regret not doing it now.

Next year I will buy the tickets, spin the vinyl lining shelves in my office and be grateful to have experienced the likes of Prince, Madonna and George Michael in their heyday.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

If You Insist on Knowing My Bliss...


The other day we took a ride to do some shopping at a mall about 25 miles away. There are outlets about five minutes away but ironically enough (especially for a house full of book nerds) the nearest big bookstore is at that mall, so off we went. We moved to this area well over a year ago and there are a few constants in "the salt life": there is humidity even during boots weather, deer, raccoon's & ducks do coexist in our backyard and last but certainly not least, Hall & Oates is always on the radio.

Always.

We noticed this pattern after a few months. Every time we get in the car there's a Hall & Oates song. Eventually the kids were sold on this duo and when I started to rebuild by record collection we "had to" get Hall & Oates. Not that it took a lot of convincing.


I was raised on Daryl and John. I think my dad had all of their early stuff and by the time they were making slick videos in the 80's I was totally sold. I mean, does any 80's child NOT remember Hall & Oates "Private Eyes" video, complete with trench coats and claps on the beat? I didn't think so. I remember my mom's best friend running a day care out of her home back in the early 80's and I went to help her for a day. I loved Rita and would use any excuse to get to hang with her so sure, I had no problems reading stories and making sandwiches. 

On this particular day though, Rita had the new Hall & Oates album (the one with "Maneater") on, all...day...long. It eventually was my job to keep flipping it over after the final song on each side. Hall & Oates were big back then, way big and not just in music. They also had their names attached to a lot of different products and you can find them in nearly every magazine pitching something.


Apparently it's not just our family that still loves Hall & Oates either. There's a reason that they are constantly on the radio here, I found that out last summer when they were scheduled to play a local festival. Tickets sold out in under ten minutes. Who didn't get any? This girl. It was also one of the few times that my media request fell on deaf ears too! Next time around you better believe that I'll be on a mission.

So anyway, back to yesterday. We spent 20 minutes in the car, stopped so that, as usual Starbucks could bungle my name


So incredibly close, but no. I now understand that "Cate with a C" now makes me instantly a Jenner. Finally, the inevitable did happen, "Kiss On My List" started to play about 2 minutes before we hit the mall and the whole family took an audible sigh, in unison. Funny how people you may never meet become such a regular part of daily life, isn't it? "Kiss On My List" has always been my very favorite Hall & Oates song. Why, I'm not exactly sure. I think it's a 4 minute example of how my childhood can collide with my kids.

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Anyone Else Feel Like a Shot of Bleach is in Order?


So, I'm gonna go here even though I originally promised myself not to do it. Do not comment on the election. Don't get into a long-winded, heated debate over something that can't be changed. Don't add to the aura of negativity that has permeated everything over the last several months. But here's the thing, I'm a writer by nature. It's not just what I do but it's who I am. I space out, words appear and if it's good then I usually have no idea what I even wrote. That's a true writers brain for you. 

But you guys. This is the first time that any election has left me genuinely concerned. I'm admittedly neither a Trump supporter nor a Trump fan and in years' past if the wrong (for me) candidate won, well it didn't feel like that big of a deal. This one does. My issue is that he treats people in ways that I don't want my kids to ever in a million years imitate. We thrive on kindness, grace and tolerance here, but that's just us. That aside, I've come to realize that my issue isn't even with Trump. He is just a man with bad hair and a family that basically functions only as a business (sorry y'all have you really looked at their body language?). He is flesh and blood with numbered days, just like the rest of us.

I guess it's the rest of us that my issue is with. I totally get the desire for change and the need to shake up the things that have failed us for far too long. But do we need to go about it in such a vile and hateful way? How do you flip a switch and choose to unite a nation that has been methodically broken down for months on end. How do we teach our sons to respect women when our leader clearly does not (unless they are willingly subservient to him)? How do we encourage our daughters, sisters and friends to speak up about sexual harassment in the workplace when our president believes that if there is enough money in your pocket it entitles you  to whomever you want, whenever you want?

How do we find ways to unite as a people for the greater good when if you look over your shoulder you'll see people purposely left in the dust because their skin is the wrong shade? I agree with the concept of no free rides but do we have to dehumanize our own based on the shade of their skin or who they choose to curl up with at night once darkness falls and time seems to stand still? 

I'm not going to sit here and pretend to have any answers at all, because I don't. Hell it has taken me all day to be able to even formulate questions. What I do know is that one man cannot actually break a country. We're already fractured into pieces and it's up to the people that live here to actively choose to be different. The leader of the free world doesn't determine your capacity for love, kindness and empathy. We don't need to mold ourselves after someone just because they hold a position that comes with instantaneous and often undeserved respect. To some last night's election was cause for a victory lap while others woke with fear of the unknown. Hopefully by tomorrow the majority of us will find a way to wake with a resolve to continue trying to leave this world a little better than we found it. After all that's something that is in our own hands, right>

Thursday, November 3, 2016

And Our Hearts They Beat As One...


I love when a song ends up feeling timeless. One of those songs for me is "Caribbean Queen" by Billy Ocean. I was shocked when I saw it popping up all over social media today and why was it? Because it began a two week stint at number one on Billboard's chart of this day all...the...way...back...in 1984. That makes it 32 freakin years old.

Oh and I remember the day that I bought it at a record store too. I walked out with Billy Ocean, Corey Hart's "Sunglasses at Night" and Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop". It was made even more memorable because it was the last time that I actually bought singles to play on my record player. I was moving on up to the world of cassette tapes and ca-singles! At least until thirty years later when I'd begin replacing all of the vinyl that I once had. 

Check out Billy Ocean. Isn't this song timeless?

Monday, October 31, 2016

If I Tend to Look Dazed I've Read It Some Place I've Got Cause to Be


You must understand
Though the touch of your hand
Makes my pulse react
That it's only the thrill
Of boy meeting girl
Opposites attract

I was in the car the other day doing the school drop off thing when I heard Tina Turner's "What's Love Got To Do With It" and boy did it take me back. As my soon-to-be high school freshman got out of the car to get on her bus it clicked that I was exactly her age when this song was popular.

In fact, way back in 1984 Tina topped Billboard's charts and boy was she in great company. The rest of the top ten was rounded out by the likes of Prince, Huey Lewis & the NewsJohn Waite and Corey Hart. Back in 1984 we used to do the math to figure out when our favorite videos would be on. Admit it, you did it too. New videos were at the top of every hour and they repeated every four hours. If you watched in the morning before school then you likely knew that they same exact videos would be on the next day, just 12 minutes later because the schedule barely changed at all.

Do you remember the summer of Tina strutting in those fishnets with her bitty jean jacket and pretty epic wig? Of course you do because it was the year of the Jackson's Victory tour which we all fantasized about going to see. My friends and I all took turns leaving for the Jersey Shore and mailing each other post cards from Wildwood, as if we'd not actually see each other again in a matter of days. Then there were those white clunky shell necklaces and bracelets. I think I wore three at a time because they were so cool and seemed to somehow prove that I had a life outside of Smalltown, USA. Ghostbusters was an absolute phenomenon and Beverly Hills Cop was a huge deal. Oh and my hair reeked of Salon Selectives. The smell is like a mash up of strawberry, cherry and god knows what else and if you're REALLY lucky you can find it to this day!


My dad was thrilled the year that Tina reinvented herself and came back. He had been a DJ for years and had an in-home studio that I would kill for now and he knew what a power house she actually was. While my local DJ's focused on how great she sounded after mentioning her great legs on the 45 of "What's Love Got to Do With It", dad always had a way of making me connect with the stripped down music, lyrics and the voice presenting it all to me. I'm also pretty sure that he appreciated Tina's fishnets too.

31 years ago, as Tina walked those legs right to the top of Billboard's Hot 100, where she stayed for three weeks, I was walking my little legs into 9th grade classes just like my daughter now. It makes me wonder, when she is my age and looks back on 9th grade, what will stand out in her mind?

Friday, October 28, 2016

The Last Song of the Night....



...is often disco or funk. Especially on a Friday.

Lifesaver Lollipops, MTV and Pat Benatar

1981 was a pretty big year for me. It was the year that I finally turned ten, or "double digits" which, for whatever reason made me think I was a total big shot. It was also the year that I got a sparkling new bike that looked exactly like this one, but it was in pink.


 I spent so many hours zooming up and down the alley behind my house with a neighborhood filled with kids. It was always girls against the boys in whatever game we played and let me tell you, the girls were way out-numbered. We talked a good game until the boys started throwing rocks and then out came the water works and running home to tell our parents. Needless to say, the boys were always in trouble.

I also remember that some of the stupidest things ever classified as toys. Do you guys remember Ka Bangers???? The only point in banging them together was to do it without hurting yourself or anyone else.

I can still hear my mother complaining about the idea of spending $3 on something so useless, yet my father did decide to take a 15 minute ride to find a set for me when every store near the house had sold out. The summer of 1981 was pretty memorable for me and not just because Lifesavers finally did the unimaginable and created blueberry lollipops,


 it was also a musical turning point for me. Up until then I had been a total disco queen. My dad would listen to albums every night and I'd always get to choose the last song. For the longest time I completely tortured him with Abba.


"The Winner Takes It All", "Dancing Queen", etc. I was pretty obsessed. Then something happened and that something was MTV. It premiered in August of 1981 and at first it wasn't available everywhere.


 Not all cable companies back then were sure that they should take a risk on an all-music network. Chain record stores did have MTV and believe me they installed televisions just to have it playing in the store. I remember going to the mall with my dad and basically camping out in the Gallery of Sound, watching music videos. At first there was only a handful and Pat Benatar's "You Better Run", being the second video ever shown, seemed to play hourly.

This Pat chick, she was really cool and super tough. I loved the fact that she seemed to hold her own with the guys despite being so tiny. Maybe it was the striped shirt and the leather, or it could have been just the song itself but either way I was hooked. My dad, who was working at a rock station at the time was beyond thrilled to help steer me away from disco and towards the kind of music that he loved, rock. Crimes of Passion became my very first album and I think that I played it into the ground. 


It's kind of ironic to me that it took me 36 years to finally see Pat play live. I'm not sure exactly why that is, but this year I spent my birthday at one of her shows and it was just amazing. While I loved her way back then I totally respect the example that she has set for other your women trying to find their own way in the music biz. Plus she seems pretty normal and has always put her family ahead of being onstage. In fact, she and her husband didn't start touring full throttle again until after their two daughters were grown. 


It's funny because if you see her in concert, Pat always mentions "You Better Run" as being a real turning point in her illustrious career because they really had no idea what, if anything would ever come of the whole music video concept. I have to think that she probably lit a real fire under more people that she could ever imagine just by taking a chance with a camera and that song!

Thursday, October 27, 2016

Seven Minutes and Fifty-Seven Seconds of Perfection




You would think that working for a rock station would mean that all of the standard rock classics would be already in our system, but nope. There is a lot missing. "Stairway To Heaven" has been one of those MIA tunes, until this week. Last night as I was digging through our retro folder it magically appeared. Okay not so magically, our PD obviously added it but it absolutely made my night.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Why a Blog?



Well honestly, why not? I'm an entertainment writer by day which means that I read & write an awful lot. It also means that most of what I crank out is to help other sites to advance their brand, be it Fox, Music Times or wherever. Those topics are generally what's hot right now or whatever is breaking in the world of celeb news. Somewhere along the way, while stringing paychecks together I've missed just writing for the sake of doing it. Diary Of A Radio Girl is mine. Sure it goes hand in hand with my old school pop culture site, The Daily Boom, but this baby is mine.

Long before I realized that I was a writer I was sitting inside the studio of a radio station with my dad. Radio is his first true love and to this day nothing excites him quite like radio does. I can remember visiting his good friend at a different station during the evenings. The studio was dark except for the lights directly above the soundboard and being so young it reminded me of sitting in a spaceship or something else equally otherworldly. All that I really understood was that the music was coming from that spot and it sounded better than ever. Sure dad was talking to his friend in between airchecks but it was a cool experience that he was also sharing with me.

Music was everything in my house growing up. Dad had his own room devoted to albums, stereo equipment and eventually a card catalog system that allowed him to find absolutely any song in under twenty seconds (he had me time him). My friends all had People magazine on their coffee tables but if you came to my house you would instead find a copy of Billboard in its place.

Music has carried me through decades on this earth and every pivotal moment of my life inevitably has a song attached to it. I'm that person with a story to go with nearly every 80's song that happens to come on the radio while you're running to Walmart for a gallon  of milk and school supplies. I drive my kids absolutely crazy with my stories and "bad" musical choices but then I secretly catch them bopping along to whatever I'm actually playing.

A few months ago I was offered an opportunity to (FINALLY) host my own radio show and I dove on it. I've spent years working as a celeb reporter for various stations across the country, Canada & Mexico but honestly all I've really wanted was to be in-studio regularly. I feel like doing nights on live radio in that dark studio is like a homecoming of sorts. It's where I'm supposed to be it just took me a really long time to realize it and find my way.

I truly have stepped into a modern-day WKRP In Cincinnati  and this is at least part of that crazy journey.