Day 161. I’ve been up nearly two hours. I didn’t intend arise at 6:10 am but was awakened by the yowling of Roger the cat. He can be quite loud and insistent. Apparently, we’re on his schedule. I knew there was no falling back asleep so I joined Sweet T. for breakfast. When she left the house at 7 am for work I made another pot of coffee and began formulating a piece of writing from the title - “Truckers For(get) Trump” - down. The work transformed and is less about the reasons truck drivers are gaga for MAGA and more about how I ended up in trucking radio for a dozen years.
Before I wrote a single word I spent time on Facebook. Then I sent messages and texts back-and-forth. Then I delved into Medium, investigating how to get my writing in front of a wider audience. I miss having my voice heard. My outlets now are social media and my podcast, Job Story - which is still finding an audience. Admittedly, I’m not doing all I can to promote it but it could never capture as many ears as our SiriusXM talk show, Freewheelin’. With a potential audience of three million truck drivers in the US alone (the satellite signal also reaches Canada and parts of Mexico) we averaged thousands of listeners daily.
As I reach the end of my journey with SiriusXM (my last day on their “books” is Thursday, Oct. 11) I’m going back to the beginning to offer the origin story of how I ended up talking with truckers for a living. Some of this you likely know. The rest you don’t.
My radio career began July 4, 1986. I’d recently met Kaz, a cartoonist who was doing a show on WFMU, and he invited me and two friends to the station in East Orange for an impromptu parking lot barbecue and Statue of Liberty rededication celebration. We ran long microphone cables down the hall from the tiny main studio in the Froeburg Hall basement out to where we set up the grille, in an attempt to get the “sizzle” on the air. I have an aircheck from that appearance and what comes through is the sense of fun and freedom I felt on mic. I’d grown up with a recorder in one hand and a transistor radio in the other. I’d been primed for this. I did some acting in high school with the drama club and the musical theater peeps. I’d also been in a few bands, so I had no trepidation about being in front of an audience and performing.
That summer Kaz asked if I’d want to come co-host a new show with him and we created The Nightmare Lounge together. For three hours once a week we played records, did interviews, hosted live bands and kibitzed on the air as ourselves or in character. We also invited 3/4th of Adrenalin OD (and guests) to the studio for an on-air poker game:
When Kaz decided to move on after a few years I stayed, first as an overnight DJ, then a fill-in and finally as talk show host. Aerial View - the phone-in talk show I launched in 1989 - came about as a fluke. I was working in the WFMU office as all-around assistant to the General Manager and Music Director when someone failed to show for their Noon slot. I volunteered to jump in, remembering my favorite parts of The Nightmare Lounge - taking phone calls from listeners. That’s what I did for an hour. It might have also been expedient: there was no time to go into the record library and pull discs to play. I don’t recall if I only did an hour because the scheduled DJ eventually showed or if I did the whole three hours as some combo of talk and music. It might’ve been a one-hour slot but I don’t remember if FMU had those in 1989.
My experiment succeeded and I petitioned to get Aerial View on the roster. It became the first regularly-scheduled talk show in the station’s history. I found my “thing”. Speaking extemporaneously, being opinionated and provocative, debating with callers, taking long flights into the absurd, using music and sound effects and field recordings to build a compelling whole - I was damn good at it. The bulk of Aerial View - me interacting with callers - was something I’d been unknowingly training for during years as a telemarketing rep. Aerial View soon found its stride and I rode that pony until 2016, with a break of a few years around the time I was hired by Sirius Satellite Radio. More accurately, the second time I was hired by Sirius.
The first time was in the Spring of 2002. A fellow WFMU staff member called and asked if I was interested in freelance work hosting a music show on the Blues Channel. I’d never heard of satellite radio but needed another gig, as my NPR job was still freelance, so I visited him on 49th Street, just west of Sixth Ave:
I’d get a hundred bucks a shift to host a four-hour music show. But I wouldn’t have to be there four hours. Through the miracle of “Voice-tracking” I’d record just the mic breaks - three to four brief interludes every hour between batches of songs - and get out in forty-five minutes. One hundred bucks for less than an hour’s work? Sign me up.
When I got good at it I could complete a four hour show in thirty minutes. It was, of course, a form of corner-cutting emblematic of how things had been going in America. This was truly a radio factory and completely at odds with the hand-built aesthetic of WFMU. But WFMU wasn’t paying my rent and I felt no qualms about transgressing unwritten DJ purity laws. I could sense a few of my fellow WFMU staffers looking down their noses but I was sure I was already considered “lesser-than” because I hosted a talk show. You know, that stupid shit Howard Stern does.
Speaking of Howard: he hadn’t arrived at Sirius yet. There was no entire wing of the thirty-sixth floor devoted to his studios and offices. He was still at K-ROCK and immensely popular. Sirius was competing with XM, another satellite radio company, to stay afloat and both companies decided to lure Howard away from terrestrial radio as a key to long-term survival. Only one had Mel Karmazin: Sirius. But this is my story, not Howard Stern’s.
In the Fall of 2005 another WFMU-adjacent friend (whom I knew via his wife, who hosted a popular Saturday afternoon show) called and asked if I wanted to co-host a new talk show on the trucking channel. He’d been handed the reins due to his long years as sole proprietor of a record label and his love for all things trucking. I never knew trucking radio existed but he was an Aerial View fan and wanted to team me up with yet-another WFMUer,. She’d been doing on-air work during a Sirius trucking channel morning show. I’d known her many years and we were friendly, so it seemed a good fit. I was taken to meet the decision-maker, bringing him some recently-minted Aerial View potholders as an offering.
In March of 2006, just after the Mid-America Trucking Show in Louisville, KY, the trucking channel was relaunched and rebranded as Road Dog Trucking Radio. Our show Freewheelin’ (a name I came up with, based on a conversation with a truck driver friend) went on the air in the 11 am - 2 pm slot. From the start we emphasized a freeform approach, as if the show somehow slid off WFMU’s schedule and onto Sirius. We were irreverent. We were funny. We were absurd. I used my entire library of soundbytes and sound effects, engineering the show myself. My history of topic creation on Aerial View served me well. We needed a new topic every day. Most were trucking-related - “Tell us about the last time your truck broke down.” - some were tangential - “What are the best one-handed foods?” - and others - “What’s your power anthem?” - had nothing trucking-specific about them.
Against a backdrop of traditional trucking radio, our show soon stood out and gained traction. Trucking is a solitary profession and truck drivers (unless they drive team) are starved for human interaction behind the wheel. Many of them were hooked into our show by hearing a female voice - there hadn’t been many in trucking radio, unless you count spouses who acted as intermittent sidekicks. For the first few years of Freewheelin’ we embodied what our boss told us about being “Relevant, informative and entertaining” but put our own stamp on a previously-moribund genre. Talking with truck drivers was a revelation. Though I come from a blue-collar background (my father was a mechanic) I’d spent years preaching to the hipper-than-thou choir that largely comprised the WFMU audience. Sometimes you’d get a prank call from obnoxious kids or hear from a confused person who “fell down the rabbit-hole” and couldn’t comprehend a station like WFMU. But it was mostly hipsters likely dressed head-to-toe in black, not a custom Nudie-style trucking suit:
Freewheelin’ callers were a whole ‘nother ball of wax. When they weren’t ignoring me and hitting on my co-host (“Are there any pictures of you online, darlin’?”), they were complaining about these things:
Hours of Service. The FMCSA (Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration) had recently changed the hours drivers could run, mandating certain breaks in an attempt to mitigate crashes due to lack of sleep. Drivers felt they weren’t being trusted enough to know their own bodies. They wanted to run when they could and sleep when necessary.
Lack of respect from “Four-wheelers”. “Four wheelers” describes anyone not in a truck (motorcyclists didn’t come in for the same contempt because many truckers are also bikers). Not only were four-wheelers responsible for bone-headed moves on the highway that led to crashes, they didn’t give a good goddamn about the sacrifices drivers made to deliver the shit you buy online and at the store, the raw materials needed to build America and all that fuel that kept it humming.
It ain’t like it used to be. A constant refrain was “Trucking anymore is not like it was in my day. We used to take care of each other. Now everyone’s in it for themselves.” Not only did independent drivers have to compete against each other for loads, often engaging in a race to the bottom ny undercutting each other’s bids, they had to contend with all the newbies driving for mega-carriers. Kids who couldn’t operate a split-stick transmission or do a blind alley dock were considered nothing more than “Steering wheel holders”.
The complaints of these old-timers were “An early clue to a new direction” about growing inequality, the diversification of America and the perceived “loss of status” about same. Squeezed on one side by huge trucking fleets and on the other by drivers from non-traditional backgrounds (Women, Blacks, Latinos, LGBTQ, Sikhs, etc) the traditional straight, white male Christian truck driver was feeling besieged. Trucking - one of the last industries where someone with (or without) a high school diploma can earn a good income, start their own business and enter the middle class - was undergoing a cultural shift and Freewheelin’ was along for the ride. Our show cultivated what I dubbed “Freekwheelers” - those non-traditional types mentioned above - while also welcoming all who kept an open mind and had a sense of humor. Though we’d never driven truck and were perceived by some as “Those two libtards from the Northeast…”, we kept our politics largely to ourselves and were embraced as family.
Freewheelin’ punched above its weight and - pound-for-pound - could go up against any talk show on our channel or others. In addition to the aforementioned elements we had a constant parade of actors, athletes, authors, celebrities and musicians through our studio:
When I peruse the list of people we interviewed I can’t help but be impressed. We always got compliments afterwards from the subjects or their "people" on conducting insightful interviews that left me wondering who’d ever hear them, hidden away as they were behind a paywall and in the safe harbor of trucking radio.
I tried to weigh anchor from that safe harbor many times but there was a tendency to place people in a lane and keep them there. I put my all into my job and - despite some monumental challenges and deep frustrations - I couldn’t wait to be on the air each day doing live radio. We went a dozen years before the wheels finally came off. I blame Trump. That’s not a joke. I had a job until he became President and if you and I ever meet in person I’ll draw you a Venn diagram that illustrates how my job and his ascendancy intersected and led to my unemployment.
As my end date approaches It saddens me most to think our airchecks may be locked away in a cabinet somewhere, never to be heard again… not even the copious interviews. I can’t say if I’ll ever be back on the air doing live radio, the thing I love. I have a podcast - but so does everyone. The fierce urgency of now represented by live radio is the thrill I seek. TUNE IN. IT’S HAPPENING.
Sometimes I think about going back to where it all began, WFMU. Then I recall my deep shame over how its gatekeeper stood in judgement of me, withdrawing his support and greasing the skids for my departure when my voice was no longer appreciated. It was (and is) a patented move, so he can't be accused of removing people. He simply makes it impossible for them to stay. When you’re dead to WFMU, you stay dead. On the fingers of one hand I can count the number of fellow DJs and hosts that showed the slightest bit of interest in why I was no longer around. It’s an open secret that the concentration of power in one person’s hands is problematic. But everyone’s willing to live under a benevolent dictatorship if the benevolence flows to them.
As for my other radio outlet: on the cusp of my departure date I wanted to tell the whole story of what went on there, until Sweet T. said, “Don’t burn bridges. You never know.”
I think I know.
Did I mention I have a podcast?
Job Story #22: (Don't) Keep On Truckin'
Job Story #22is the audio version of the piece in this newsletter. Sometimes you achieve synchronicity.
Youcan call and record a Job Story of any length at WAY-4-JOB-POD (929-456-2763) or a Job Story of 90 seconds or less right here.
Please share Job Story with your friends and family and be sure to review Job Story on iTunes and elsewhere. Until next time, this is Chris T., working hard... and hardly working.
Mad Daddy Anniversary Special - Oct. 13
I'm heading to Cleveland to be part of the super-cool Norton Records Mad Daddy Anniversary Special. If you're in the area Sat., Oct. 13th, drop in and hang out. Or is it the other way around?
Miriam Linna of Norton Records will also join Rex (WFMU) 1-3 PM Eastern time on Fool's Paradisehis Saturday! Tune in as Miriam and Rex gab about legendary disc jockey "Mad Daddy" Pete Myers on this dark anniversary marking the 50th year of his passing. Norton will issue a very limited commemorative purple wax souvenir Mad Daddy memorial single which will be available at the big Franklin Castle event in Cleveland on October 13. It will of course debut on this special broadcast, as will the new Norton seven incher on Ohio kings the Choir. Rumor has it that guitar god Wally Bryson will be checking in to be sure both sides get action at the station! New Norton vinyl sides from the Real Kids and the New York Dolls will get a sampling, and we'll get a rundown on what's going on at Norton lately!
Casino Night @ Guttenberg Arts - Oct. 20
Guttenberg Arts is once again throwing a fabulous party... with gambling! The 2nd Annual Casino Night fundraiser happens Sat., Oct. 20, 7 to 11 pm. There's an open bar, hor d’oeuvres and Black Jack, 3-Card Poker and Roulette Wheel games where you can earn chips to win prizes like one of a kind pieces of art by artists Dahlia Elsayed and Michael Covello Odalla, limited-edition prints by artists Jessica Rohrer and Mamadou Sow, theatre and sporting event tickets, gif certificates and more!
Tickets begin at $50.00 (and will include 100 playing chips and one raffle ticket) but like Atlantic City, there’s no limit to your support for the arts. Guttenberg Arts has a goal of doubling the amount of funds raised at last year’s Casino Night event so they can continue their mission of providing public programming that promotes creative thinking and fosters interest in the arts.
Guttenberg Arts is at 6903 Jackson St. Guttenberg NJ, and feature a new exhibition of work by founding member Bruce Waldman. All proceeds are tax-deductible and go towards Guttenberg Arts 2018/2019 programming budget benefiting both practicing artists and the public.
