OKAY, OKAY, I WROTE THE BOOK
You can feel it when you hear it
Body, mind and spirit
Radio’s what living’s all about.
That certainly was true for me,
especially at KFWB. Radio was me; body, mind and spirit, morning noon and night.
And I couldn’t have loved it more. But the one thing that bugged me, I mean
really pissed me off, was the damn copy-cat mentality of what, I swear,
sometimes seemed like every other PD in the country.
But this was the definitive champion of the shameful apery that was going on.
The promotions we had on the air continually gave the station a real sizzle and
added a different ‘Color’ from one week to the next. Still, I didn’t like the
idea that people might be listening only because they could win a thousand
dollars or maybe even a “Candy Apple Red Impala.” I wanted to see what the
ratings would be, based on the entertainment value of the station itself with no
contests. About three weeks into this no contestness, the PD of a station in
Philadelphia called to tell me he was about to be fired. His GM was really upset
because there were no contests on his station, and now that PD was shouting at
me, “For Chrissake, when are you gonna do something, man! I’m about to lose my
job!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I’ve been getting these tapes of
your station every week and lately there’s nothing on them but shit!” I hung up
the phone.
By the way, we did slip a little in the ratings ... from our average share 40
share we slipped down to a 36. So we put the promotions back on.
On of the reasons for the accelerated success of Color Radio was the record
promotion people, at least, the group that was smart enough to get us the
hottest records first. Many times exclusively. To my mind, the best of them, was
a man by the name of Bob Stern. Bob really loved his work. Energetic,
enthusiastic and funny ... no, wait a minute, make that “punny.” On his business
card was the credo “Leave no tone unSterned!” and that was pretty typical.
Nonetheless, I really liked everything about the guy, especially his honesty
when he said, “I gotta talk to you. About a new form of payola.” Well, that got
my attention.
Bob came into my office with a strange hesitancy that was not like him at all.
“I don’t know how you’re gonna feel about this” he said. He always wore dark
glasses. Inside, outside, wherever and whenever, they were a part of his ‘look.’
I realized I had never seen him without the glasses when he took them off as he
sat down. He looked like a totally different guy with these big white circles
around his eyes which at that moment seemed to be trying to stare a hole into my
soul.
“I can get records played on damn near any station in the country. All I gotta
do is tell them what you are doing and tape it for them.” I guess that didn’t
surprise me too much. I had just learned there were two major recording studios
in Hollywood which were booked twenty four hours a day doing nothing but taping
KFWB for a couple of hundred radio stations across the county. The next thing he
said was kind of mind blowing though. “I can even get my records played by
telling stations what your Pick Hit is gonna be.”
“You’re kidding me. ” I really thought he was.
“You guys pick it at the deejay meeting on Thursday, right?” I nodded. “But it
doesn’t go on the air till Saturday after the new Fab Forty Count-Down. So on
Friday, I can get damn near any of my records played on at least ten stations by
telling what your Pick is gonna be.” I could not imagine any PD, I don’t care
what size the market, putting a record on the air in return for that kind of
valueless information. Then Bob continued, “But here’s the part that hurts me to
tell you. You hand out the memo with instructions to the jox about what you’re
gonna be doing the next week at that meeting too.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So, I’ve been stealing them.”
“What?”
Bob was making himself very uncomfortable. Me too as a matter of fact. “I’m
really sorry.” he said, “But, the jox either leave them on their desks or throw
them in a trash can. And, I’ve been picking them up.”
“And doing what with them?”
“Well, nothing yet. I figured I could get a lot of records played in return for
a couple of these.” He put a handful of old memos on my desk, “But then I
started thinking what you would do to me if you found out about it, and I
chickened out. Sorry. And if you want to bar me from the station or whatever, I
guess I got it coming.” I honestly don’t remember how we resolved that
situation, but I do know that Bob Stern was one of the few promo people I ever
had a real friendship with. He was a good guy.
I had been offered everything
from unrestricted use of a forty foot yacht (with crew) to a new Waring blender
to put some dog records on the air. But, the very idea of accepting some kind of
payoff for putting records on the air scared the crap out of me.
Not so much because it might have been against the law, I’m not even certain
that there were any really stringent rules against “accepting favors” at that
time. My problem was, I didn’t want anything on my air, no matter how
inconsequential it might seem to be, that wasn’t put there because of it’s
proven audience attraction capabilities. That may sound a little “Holier than
thou” but it was true, I was a real “Nut case” about the audience value of stuff
that went on our air.
The closest thing I ever came to accepting payola was when Warner Brothers
offered me a part in 77 Sunset Strip, a huge TV show at the time starring Efram
Zimbalist Jr. and Ed “Kookie” Byrnes. All I had to do was put “Kookie, Kookie,
Lend me your comb.” on the playlist and I could be on TV. Well, I can’t honestly
say I liked the record that much, but the deejays did vote it on and it did
become a hit and I did get the part. It was a great opportunity to show off my
acting talents. Here’s my big scene: I’m sitting in a booth in a restaurant with
a very pretty young lady when we hear gun shots ... not actually, the shots
would be added later. The director shouted out, “Bang! Bang! And Kookie came
running into the restaurant. He stopped for a second and looked around. He saw
me seated there and shouted, “Hey Chuck! How are things at KFWB?”
“Things are great.” I cleverly shouted back.
“Bang! Bang!” Shouted the director.
“See ya, man.” Shouted Kookie and he ran out the back way.
Two weeks later as I watched the show to see my Hollywood film debut, I was very
pleasantly surprised when I saw a scene which took place in Kookie’s apartment
in which Kookie turned on his radio and out came KFWB. I think Elliot Field was
on the air in the scene and I want to say he was introducing ‘Kookie, Kookie,
Lend me your comb” but I may be just romancing the memory. When I heard our
station being played on TV I ran to the telephone to call Bob Purcell, GM of
KFWB, to ask if he was watching. He said, “Yeah. I thought you were pretty
good.”
“What? I haven’t been on yet.”
“Yes, you were.” Said Mr Purcell, “That’s why I didn’t answer the phone right
away. I was watching your big scene.”
“Nuts. I missed it.”
(...to be continued)
