By: Jay Trachman

If you ever run into me in the street, or at a workshop or conference, here are some things not to say…

Don’t tell me you’d like to prep your show, but you don’t have the time, because you’re also the PD. Since when is radio just a twelve-hour-a-day job? In what other industry are managers permitted to slight the customers, because they’re also administrators? In what other branch of entertainment are the directors expected to set a bad example for the other talent?

Don’t say you believe in local content, but you don’t use much, because so little happens in your town — and then tell me you carry neither a pocket pad nor a micro sound recorder with you.

If you’re a winning jock in a big market, don’t tell me you don’t believe in show-prep because it ruins your spontaneity, and then casually mention ten minutes later that you read three newspapers front-to-back, every day. (Yes, I’ve actually heard it!)

Don’t tell me, “The trouble with our industry is that it’s now being run by bean counters,” and then mention that you got fired over “philosophical differences” with the management. (Bean counters don’t have philosophies.) As long as radio is a business, its primary purpose is to make a profit for its owners; it’s always been that way, and it always will. If you want to be creative on the air, you’ll have to convince the boss that they can make more money that way, than by stuffing liner cards down your throat. If that doesn’t work, find another boss. If three bosses all show the same attitude, it’s time to seriously consider whether you might belong in a different career.

Don’t say the word “format” to me when all you’re really referring to is the kind of music you’re playing. That’s the kind of thinking that’s brought us to this over-researched, under-human state of affairs. When’s the last time a radio station audience-tested its liner cards? Or (here’s a scary one!) air personalities?

Don’t tell me “Every station sounds alike,” and then say you’re now playing 15 in a row. The thing that’s doing it is that continuous music is continuous music and people hear it that way, regardless of what flavor of music you’re playing.

If you’re a manager, don’t say to me, “The problem is, there’s no new talent coming up through the ranks…” And then tell me that your station is now satellite-fed 21-hours-a-day. We probably spend less on talent development than any other branch of the entertainment industry. Doubly sad, because with the proper training and guidance, those young kids can be more profitable for the station than syndication.

And don’t say, “The trouble with training young jocks is that when they get good, they just leave,” unless you feel the same way about young salesmen.

If you’re a jock, don’t tell me “Nobody ever critiques me, unless there’s something wrong…” And then admit you don’t record your show, or listen to your own airchecks. If you want to improve, you’re the one responsible for making it happen, not the people you work for.

Don’t tell me, “Radio isn’t fun anymore,” and then say they won’t let you use your library of comedy drops. Creating “fun” yourself is hard work, requiring lots of thought, a personal viewpoint, and a healthy dose of self-criticism and editing. But that’s what fun is — a sense of the unexpected, the original, the unique.

Don’t ask me where all the great radio stars have gone — the Larry Lujacks and Charlie Tunas and Robert W. Morgans — and then tell me your overnight jocks are earning minimum wage. Tomorrow’s potential stars are working in today’s small markets right now. The question is whether most people with talent and drive will put up with the BS radio throws at them, long enough to become stars.

If you’re unemployed, don’t tell me you’re looking hard, but there are no jobs out there, and then hand me a copy of a copy of a résumé with typos in it, and a demo CD-ROM with a hand-written label on it.

If you’re a record promoter, don’t tell me about the “symbiotic relationship” between radio and records, and then admit you won’t service a small market station that’s not reporting to a major trade journal.

Don’t tell me “the listeners are too stupid to know the difference” about whether you’re live or taped, human or plastic, carefully programmed or slap-dash — and then wonder why nobody’s listening to your station.

As Pogo once said, “We have met the enemy, and he is us!”  Now that you know my “hot buttons,” maybe you’d like to Share a few of yours…

Jay Trachman is publisher of “One to One,” a weekly information and humor service for broadcasters. Jay can be reached at: phone (559) 448 0700, fax (559) 448 0761, e-mail at 121@att.net, or www.121online.net. Reprinted with permission.