O’DAY’S TRAVEL WOES #30: Dan Visits The Red Light District

November, 1994: The last two months of the year usually are relatively quiet for me. This time November & December had me criss-crossing the globe. My first trip of the month was to Dubois, Pennsylvania, to conduct my Air Personality Plus+ seminar for the Pennsylvania Association of Broadcasters.

(If you ever visit that part of the state, make sure you don’t pronounce it “Doo-Bwah;” the locals pronounce it “Doo-Boys.”)

The PAB’s Rich Wyckoff had me do the same seminar in another part of the state the previous month, so he had everything running like clockwork in Dubois. Between the two seminars, 300 PAB members attended.

Several days later I journeyed to The Netherlands, where the NAB presented a two-day European radio conference in Amsterdam. Changing planes in Washington, D.C., I found myself flying across the ocean with The Benchmark Company’s Rob Balon, who would speak about research at the same event. (I was there to talk about developing air talent.)

The Krasnapolsky Grand Hotel, where we stayed, has an interesting location. Directly in front of it is the Royal Palace; directly behind it is Amsterdam’s infamous Red Light District.

My hotel room came equipped with something I’d never had in a hotel: a doorbell. Kind of a nice touch. I’ve seen it a few times since, but this was the first.

The plane arrived at Schipol Airport at 6:00AM…a very awkward time. I went to the hotel, unpacked, and took a nap. In the afternoon, Doris and Mike McVay took me on an informal walking tour of the area; they had arrived a couple of days earlier. (Mike was speaking at the conference, too.) It was a nice opportunity to get some fresh air, share industry gossip…and to get some ice cream. (Mike & Doris even paid for the ice cream!)

On my first evening there, I wandered into the Red Light District in search of… something to eat. I ended up with the worst Chinese food I’ve ever had. Not that it tasted bad; it simply had no flavor at all.

On my second night, some friends took me to a little Dutch restaurant I never would have found on my own, and the food was excellent.

But, wait! What about the Red Light District? Surely I have more to report on than bad Chinese food!

Okay. First I’ll describe the district a little, then I’ll relate my wild adventures there.

Prostitution is legal in The Netherlands. In the Red Light District, scantily clad women display themselves in windows that face the sidewalks. When a customer sees a woman he fancies, he goes inside and engages her services.

I don’t know if they negotiate fees or if there are standard prices among the practitioners. (I don’t believe I actually saw anyone enter one of those buildings.)

Is walking up and down those streets, along the canal, an erotic experience? No.

It all seemed very sad, even depressing. I can’t imagine anyone waking up in the morning and thinking, “Gosh, I can’t wait to go to work, where I’ll put my body on display like a hunk of meat.”

Are the women attractive? Not especially.

On the afternoon of the day I arrived, George Hyde of the RAB and I walked around the district. We speculated on the gap between the innocence of our stroll and the lascivious speculations of our friends back home regarding our activities.

The closest thing to an interesting encounter came when someone — I think — might have offered to sell me cocaine. Some guy muttered something to me as I passed. Probably if you’re there looking to buy drugs, you would be alert for such a sales pitch. And I probably look like the kind of person who would be a customer: a bearded American, casually dressed.

The other thing the Red Light District is known for is its Marijuana Bars, where drug use is legal. I didn’t enter any of those, but I did hear some great old Everly Brothers tunes coming out of one.

On my final night, Rob Balon and I ventured back into the District, looking for food. (Remember, that’s the neighborhood of the hotel; I don’t think the Palace had anything waiting for us in the royal refrigerator.) We settled on a tiny (4 tables) Indian restaurant and had an excellent meal.

Afterward, I returned to the hotel, packed, and went to bed. Rob and I had arranged to meet the next morning to share a ride to the airport…after he went shopping for — what else? — wooden shoes to bring home.

It turns out that after I retired that evening, Rob went out again and tried his luck at a local casino. He put a few guilders into a video poker machine…and immediately drew a royal flush, winning $3,000.

Final Amsterdam memory: I learned that one of Holland’s most popular radio personalities at the time was named Fritz Spitz.

Next Week: An exciting journey back across the Atlantic…with my Macintosh Powerbook.