Serving Our Community, One Voice Track At A Time

All the snow we’ve been getting and our building’s power transformer blowing up the other night got me thinking again about how much commercial radio sucks these days. That might sound strange, but hear me out.

When something disruptive happens, something like…let’s say a snow storm or a power outage, what’s one of the first things people do? Do they run to their TV’s? Do they fire up the computer and do a search for “what the fuck just happened on my street?” Or do they bust out the little battery powered radio and tune in a local radio station looking for info and answers? I’m pretty confident that a lot of you are thinking radio, because radio is by far the best and quickest way to get a message to a lot of people as soon as they need to get it. Actually I should make that radio *was* the best way to get the word out, because radio, at least in its current form, is the drizzling shits at doing what was and will always be its job.

The reason for this is a simple one. Voice tracking. If you don’t know what that is, I’ll quickly explain it. Do you ever listen to a station and notice that things just don’t sound right? I’m talking about small things like the fact that nobody ever says the time or that the person reading the weather isn’t the same one doing the rest of the show. These things are clues that what you’re hearing isn’t actually live. Your radio station, on a never-ending quest to save a few bucks, has contracted somebody or gotten an existing employee to record an air shift in advance so that they don’t have to pay people to staff the station during what they consider off hours. Off hours can mean anything from evenings after about 6 or 7 PM to an entire weekend, meaning everything from Friday night until Monday morning.

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see the problem with this idea, but you do apparently need to be smarter than radio station management, who for the most part are somewhere between dog shit and a ham sandwich on the IQ scale. Emergencies don’t have off hours. They happen when they happen, and it’s the job of essential services like radio stations to provide as close to up to the second coverage as they can. It especially burns me up when I hear a station talking up its community involvement only to hear that same station leave the community in the lurch when it actually needs it for something more complicated than sending the Rockmobile to Wally’s Waterbed Wearhouse to broadcast live from the big Summer Blockbuster blowout Bonanza.

I don’t care how much it costs, there needs to be somebody live on the air at all times. It’s ridiculous that I could get no info Monday about what exactly happened to my power and when they planned to have it fixed, and it’s absolutely unacceptable that anybody who found themselves driving through Guelph today would have to get conditions from stations in another town or find
CFRU
and hope they’ve got live programming on. This morning they did, and it’s a good thing. It’s also pathetic in the sense that the one place that did the right thing was staffed by volunteers who could have easily stayed home for safety’s sake and been well within their rights to do so. The 2 corporate stations in town could learn a lot from this, but they won’t, and that’s a shame.

Turn Me On And I’ll Suck It

We haven’t had a good guy getting busted for having sex with something story in a while, so
here’s a Polish man who was fired from a building job at a children’s hospital after he was caught humping a vacuum cleaner.

Hopefully the justice system will work as it should, because if
our old buddy bicycle Bob has to be registered as a pervert
and this guy doesn’t, there’s something seriously wrong with the world.

If That’s Not A Security Breach, I don’t Know What Is

Wow. Gary Sinnott is a far more honest man than I. If I had a website that was similar to that of a naval base, and people were too stupid to verify where they were sending confidential emails, and the emails were getting to me, and I’d let the military know and they said “na, don’t worry about it,” I wouldn’t take the site down. I’d done my best to make sure they knew. Now I might get some interesting juice! But maybe I wouldn’t if it was actually happening. I just can’t believe the stupidity of the American military and the morons sending the emails.

That’s The End?

Yesterday, we had the radio on, and this song came on that left us scratching our heads. It was The Baby by Blake Shelton. It was the weirdest song. It was all about this kid having a pretty normal childhood, being a goof, but his mom loved him anyway, and then his mom died and he didn’t make it home in time, and boom! That’s it! The end was so abrupt that we were wondering if part of the song got amputated. We had to actually sit there and try and guess at what the message of the song was. Was it that he felt like he let her down because he didn’t make it home? That’s the only conclusion we could draw.

My explaining of how weird it was doesn’t do it justice. You have to hear it. Listen to the song and tell me if you get the same sense that it came to an abrupt, unexpected end. Maybe it’s because the song seemed to be a very meandering type of song and then it was just over. In any case, it was weird. Or maybe we’re the weirdos for thinking so much about a song.

Update: I don’t know if I’m feeling extra sappy, or whether I’ve grown to appreciate this song, but when I listened to it again, I actually cried a little bit. I’m getting older, I guess, and a few times in the last few years, there was a very real possibility that a parent might not make it. Thankfully, they’re still here, but it has made me think about what I would do if I got that call that said “get home as fast as you can because time is running short.” I can only get home as fast as transit can fly.

Who knew that a song that I thought was so pointless would make me think so much?