As a long time radio guy I’ve pretty much done it all. I’ve been a disc
jockey on numerous formats (Top 40, classic rock, rock of the ‘90s,
oldies, chicken rock, country-western, standards, beautiful music,
Broadway), talk show host, sportstalk show host, movie critic, newsman,
field reporter, play-by-play, disaster coverage anchor, charity
radiothon anchor, host of swap meets, and even co-host of a car talk
show (despite the fact that I know nothing about cars).
And then, a few years ago, I did traffic reports.
At this point, let me pause and say part of the fun of radio is pulling
pranks – either on other jocks, other stations, or the listeners. But
for the most part these are done in small markets. There is too much
money involved and too much scrutiny to be pulling shit on major
stations in Los Angeles, New York, and Boca. If you get fired in
Modesto you can probably find a comparable job. If you get canned in
Chicago that’s a different story. Of course, I never adhered by that
rule. Gee, and you wonder why I got fired from so many stations. Okay, back to this weekend's post, but this paragraph will tie in.
From 2008-2010 you might remember I co-hosted Dodger Talk with Josh
Suchon on KABC, Los Angeles. It was a fun gig and I only left to do
play-by-play for the Mariners. In 2009, one of the salesmen at KABC
sold a nightly traffic report to be done during each Dodger pre-game
show. Traffic reports are big deals in LA where everyone commutes by
car (despite the subway system that no one knows about and rarely goes
anywhere anyone would want to go). Stations in LA boast “
Traffic on the 2’s”, “Traffic on the 4’s”, “Traffic on the 8’s.” Some stations have helicopters. Smarter ones have helicopter sound effects.
So KABC sells a traffic report in the Dodger pre-game show, but who’s
going to do it? The Dodgers announcers sure aren’t. I’d like to see
the salesman who asks Vin Scully if he wouldn’t mind reporting on fender
benders. Since I hosted Dodger Talk after the game they thought, why
not dump it on Ken? I graciously declined. They said they’d pay me
double my salary. I graciously accepted.
How do you do traffic reports? There are websites you log onto that
have the latest traffic info for every major city. I’d log on, enter
my password, click “Los Angeles” and cut and paste the most pressing
traffic slowdowns. I asked the salesman how long the report should be
and he said, “I don’t care. A minute. Forty-five seconds. Whatever.
All I give a shit about is that you read the Sprint commercial at the
end of it.”
So that’s what I did. It took maybe five minutes to prepare and a
minute to deliver. I was usually reporting from the “Massive high-tech
space age KABC traffic center sequestered in a secret location.”
Doing this was no problem during home games because I was at the
stadium, but when the team was on the road and I wasn’t traveling, I’d
have to go to the station to do them. I wanted to record a week’s
worth at once and just air them over the course of seven days but that
idea didn’t go over very well.
But I always wondered – was anybody actually listening to these traffic
reports? One evening, late in the season, the Dodgers were in San
Francisco and I was at the station preparing for my big minute. I was
hanging out with Howard Hoffman, the production director, and I
suggested a way to see if listeners paid any attention. He laughed and
said, “you wouldn’t dare.” (This is where that paragraph on pranks
pays off.) I gave him a sly smile and headed for my booth.
I opened the report by saying, “If you’re going to the Dodger game
tonight, there’s a fifteen minute delay on the Golden Gate Bridge, the
880-Nimitz in the east bay reports slow and go from Concord…”
I just gave the San Francisco traffic report. Super straight, as if
this were a San Francisco station. And I tagged it with the Sprint
commercial.
Howard came into the booth hysterical. Now we waited to see how many
phone calls we got. This was 6:45 in the evening, during the peak
afternoon commute.
So how many did we get? I bet you’re ahead of me. That’s right.
None. Not a single one. Zero. The big goose egg. No one from the
station ever called me. No one from the Dodgers. Nothing.
The following year there was no traffic. I hope Sprint took that money and used it to buy another repeater tower.