We had a couple of LEAVE IT TO BEAVER Friday Questions this week. So I thought I'd keep the topic alive. Barbara
Billingsley played June Cleaver on that classic 50s sitcom. As a kid I
marveled at how she cooked and cleaned and always wore a party dress and
pearls. My mom never did. But for years it was an honor to be
mistaken for Barbara's TV son.
I guess that requires an explanation, huh?
Okay, that means a look back at my checkered radio career...
After being fired from KMEN San Bernardino in late ‘73 I sat out of work
for six months. Apparently no one wanted a wise-ass disc jockey with a
light voice. I couldn’t even land a gig doing all-nights in Fresno.
Ironically, when I
did get an offer it was to do evenings at WDRQ, Detroit. So I wasn’t good enough for market #100 but I was fine for market #4.
More on my actual adventures in Detroit in future posts but today I want
to concentrate on my name. No rock station would let me use my actual
name (Levine sounded too… uh, “
Red Sea Pedestrian”). And in
general disc jockeys had very generic names. Johnny Mitchell. Steve
Clark. Bob Shannon. Take any two simple first names and slam them
together.
Needless to say, to audiences these disc jockeys were interchangeable.
In some cases stations changed personnel but just kept the name. So
Bill Bailey could be the afternoon man but over the course of three
years that could be four different guys.
In Bakersfield and San Bernardino I was Ken Stevens. When I got the job
in Detroit I decided to make a change. I took the moniker Beaver
Cleaver.
Why?
I wanted something distinctive. I wanted something memorable. The
first time the listener heard, “Hi, this is Beaver Cleaver” I wanted him
to say "What the fuck?!" Any major program director will tell you --
if you can get the audience to say "What the fuck?!" you've won.
It was a name everybody knew from the TV show. I figured a lot of
people would wonder if I was Jerry Mathers (who played the Beav). This
might even prompt some discussion in various Detroit high schools. How
often did
you discuss disc jockeys in your high school?
I also liked that the name was easy to say. As opposed to Illya
Kuryakin, my second choice (although it would have been fun to hear
jingle singers trying to sing Illya Kuryakin).
I’d
like to take credit for being the first disc jockey to do something
like this, but the truth is I wasn’t. Art Ferguson debuted on KHJ in
1967 as Charlie Tuna. At the time Charlie the Tuna was the cartoon
mascot of the Starkist Tuna ad campaign. Whether it was Art’s idea or a
program director I thought it was genius.
One other side benefit to “Beaver Cleaver” was that I could use it for
double entendres. Remember this was for a teenage audience. I came
on the first night and said, “This is the grand opening of the Beaver.”
Yes, it was juvenile but my goal was to make noise. I'm sure I got
some more "What the fucks?!" with that one.
Anyway, it worked. People did take notice and remember. A few years
ago I was having lunch with Tom Hanks. He was saying he grew up in the
Bay Area and I mentioned I was a disc jockey in San Francisco at that
time. “Who were you?” he asked. When I told him his eyes lit up and
immediately he said, “Beaver Cleaver! KYA! Boss of the Bay!” I don’t
think he would have remembered the name I used in Bakersfield. (I bet
you can't either and you just read it fifteen seconds ago.)
So I used that handle at WDRQ and future stops as a DJ. Later that
year I was hired by K100 in Los Angeles. (A year before I couldn’t get
arrested in Fresno.) The station was owned by Bill Drake & Gene
Chenault, the architects of the KHJ
Boss Radio format that was
the rage of the 60s. I was brought in to do evenings, following the
Real Don Steele. It was a dream job except I hated the program
director. When I say he was clueless, here’s
how clueless:
The day I was slated to debut the station had all of the other jocks
hyping my arrival. The PD stopped in the booth and midday guy, Eric
Chase jokingly asked if I was going to have Wally and Lumpy join me my
first night. The PD said, “What are you talking about?” Eric said,
“Wally and Lumpy – the Beav's brother and his dufus friend.” The PD was
completely confused. Eric said, “Y’know, from the TV show. From
LEAVE IT TO BEAVER.” The PD’s eyes widened in horror. “There’s a TV
show?!”
How the fuck could this moron not have heard of LEAVE IT TO BEAVER?
So he calls me into his office panicked. There were already promos on
the air. What if we got sued? I tried to calm him down. “If we get
sued,” I said, “it’s the best thing that could ever happen to us.” Now
he was really perplexed. I reasoned that in the
highly unlikely
event we were sued this would become a big story. The local TV stations
would probably cover it. K100 would get more free publicity than it
could ever imagine. I would stop using Beaver Cleaver and the station
could invite listeners to come up with my new name. Fortunately, owner
Bill Drake thought that was brilliant and I was allowed to keep calling
myself
Mrs. Cleaver’s Beaver.
For the record, I was never sued. And continued to use the name until
1980. By the way, Frank Bank, who played “Lumpy”, is now Jerry
Mathers’s investment adviser.