May, 1994: My first visit to Wisconsin, and my first visit to Minnesota when it wasn’t winter!
First stop was Madison, Wisconsin, where PD Greg Schnirring arranged for me to conduct an air talent seminar for the staff of Wisconsin Public Radio. (Yes, believe it or not, public radio stations occasionally allow a philistine such as I to work directly with their on-air performers.)
Now, I’ve been in more than my share of college towns, but I was surprised at how beautiful Madison was. I found myself fantasizing about renting a cabin by the lake during the summer…and this was just during the ride in from the airport.
Joy Cardin acted as my chauffeur and also handled the numerous details of the seminar itself. We all ate lunch outside the Student Union building, overlooking the lake…Just gorgeous. I wish I could have stayed longer to explore the area.
As soon as the seminar ended, I was whisked back to the airport for a flight to St. Paul, where on the following day I conducted an air talent seminar for Minnesota Public Radio, thanks to Arthur Cohen and Loren Omoto. (If you work in commercial radio, you might not know that Minnesota and Wisconsin have the two of the most successful public radio operations in the country.)
Our seminar was held in a very impressive museum building (the name of which I failed to make note). Our luncheon was held in the building’s cafeteria, where I had the most obvious dish to order when in Minnesota: Chicken Gumbo. (I can’t wait for my next visit to New Orleans, where I’ll be sure to order Minnesota Wild Rice Soup.)
MPR housed me at the Saint Paul Hotel, which is a pretty fancy place with a very good restaurant called “The Grill.” (I dined there that evening with Arthur and his wife, and the food was very good.)
I made a quick trip the following week to Atlanta, where I conducted an air talent seminar for WNNX. GM Mark Renier and PD Brian Phillips had a very successful, high-charged operation there.
I changed planes in Chicago, where I had a disconcerting experience that reminded me of the old Twilight Zone episode about the woman who drove cross-country and kept seeing a strange hitch-hiker (who turned out to be Death).
The restrooms at O’Hare Airport have sinks without faucet handles. They are equipped somehow to sense when you put your hands near the faucet, and the water automatically turns on. At least, that’s how it worked for everyone else. But no matter how hard I tried, how quickly or slowly I moved my hands over the sink basin, the water would not come.
I tried another sink; no luck. I tried EVERY other sink; nothing. But everyone else seemed to have no trouble getting water with which to wash their hands.
My taxi ride back to the airport in Atlanta introduced me to a cab driver who had a speech pattern that I simply could not understand. This, however, did not stop him from talking to me for the entire ride. He would speak a couple of paragraphs and then say, “Y’know what I mean?” (That was the only phrase I could make out entirely.)
Whenever he’d say, “Y’know what I mean,” I would reply, “Yes.” Then he would say — nodding emphatically — “Uh-huh.” And then he’d speak for a few more paragraphs.
We had a wonderful 20-minute conversation….I guess. I have no idea what we talked about, but he seemed pleased that I agreed with him.
