I’ve never been much of a radio listener. At least, not since 1994. That was the year that Z100 called to offer me $1000 if I said “Z100-means-today’s-best-music-now-give-me-my-money” when I answered the phone, but I was at volleyball practice, so they left me a message on my answering machine telling me I didn’t win. If only I’d had a cell! Of course, it would’ve had to have been one of those Zack Morris phones:
Funny to think of that kind of promo now. Ah, the world pre-Twitter. At one point I had actually said the phrase on my answering machine. Point is, it was a distressing moment in my life. I’d listened to the Z100 Morning year after year. The Z Morning Zoo boomed from my Dream Machine clock radio each dawn, and then I was lulled to sleep by the sex doctor’s words of wisdom each night (only thing I recall from that education has to do with blow jobs and Halls cough drops). And here they called in the middle of the day! Didn’t they know my schedule?
I love writing like this. It always makes me want to write about my own thoughts and memories of things like radio, but I know I’ll never do it justice. But maybe I’ll give it a go all the same…
I love this.