LEAP OF FAITH RADIO PRODUCTION with Bobby Ocean
The One Time I Physically Leaped
Perhaps this Zen production style I enjoy — Leap Of Faith Production — was foretold one time, when, as a baby jock, I pulled off an actual dramatic physical Leap, as only the young (and movie stunt men) can do.
It was the mid-60s, I was maybe 18, it was Halloween night and my imagination was heated: “I get to be on the radio!”
A bit dropped from somewhere. Next thing, I was on the mic, telling listeners what a shame it was that I could not be out there trick-or-treating, if they cared about their local DJ at all, they would drive by the radio station (on Monterey, California’s historic Cannery Row) and toss candy up to the second floor balcony for me.
It was going great, lots of colorful Halloween imagery about werewolves, vampires and how they are attracted to radio transmission towers, while candy started piling up out on the balcony, and I was well on my way to unimaginable stardom. Right about when I was mentally morphing into Clint Eastwood, events changed, as often happens on Misty All Hallows Eve.
On a routine candy check, the door blew shut behind me. Of course it was locked. Solid. I had no key, nothing in my pockets, suddenly confined outside, hopelessly! Over the air, Brenda Lee continued making her way through the last song I started, “I’m Sorry;” and I was now equally despondent. What could I do!?
I tried the windows. Locked. In desperation, just like TV, I punched the lower corner of a pane, shattering it with the intention of unlocking it from inside. Didn’t work, couldn’t find the lock, now I was bleeding from the shattered glass.
Brenda’s apology was well past the halfway mark. Next came what must have been one true Halloween shocker.
To the innocent tourists ambling the sidewalks below among the Cannery’s gift shoppes and eateries, came the stunning visage of a wild man, leaping from above, suddenly landing among them, blood freshly dripping from his paws, a truly desperate look in his eyes!
Racing through the panicking people, and up the staircase to the second floor of the infamous Bear Flag Building where KMBY was housed, the front door was found to be locked tight!
There was nothing else to do. I yanked the door right out of its frame. Adrenaline, I guess, haven’t been able to duplicate the feat since. Racing down the hall and in the studio, Brenda was singing the final phrases of her hit as I managed to reach the hand-made console and start the next record with no noticeable interruption in the flow.
Close call, happy ending.
That is, until I realized I was now preoccupied with rehearsing what I would tell the Program Director the next day. Sleep wouldn’t penetrate the multitude of reasons I had repeatedly gone over that night, to explain how the broken but hastily taped up door and window got that way.
I was rehearsing my next biggest performance. The one that would let me keep my job!
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RFLMA – what a great story, Bobby. I know so many guys who found themselves in a similar predicament, but none who went through such acrobatic feats (or pain) that you endured to rectify the situation. I remember one of them getting fired though. So your story the following morning must have been a good one.
Osh, I’ve been out of radio for 17 years, but I still have a “locked-out-of-the-control-room-record-running-out” recurring nightmare. For me, just a bad dream. For you…stone cold bloody truth. Thanks for sharing!.
The only thing close to being comparable was being in the john in the midst of business that could be interrupted only in an indelicate way as the record spun inexorably toward its end. A “sinking” feeling I still can’t flush from my memory.
HAHAHA…. KICKS 101.5 IN ATLANTA…Im the night guy, and we had to use this magnetic slider thing to get in the door. It was in my wallet, which was on the counter in the studio after paying for the pizza I had just ordered.
Pizza guy calls, he’s downstairs…I run down to get it…elevator down…7 stories? don’t remember….it’s 9:30, I’m locked out downstairs and I have to wait for the security guy on the golf cart to make his rounds, and we go off the air.
In Atlanta. Rated Daypart. Station is Dark.
This was 98…we didn’t all have cellphones then either…thank God my Neil McGinley was an understanding dude….
Yes, having business to take care of while a record plays is definitely fodder for nightmares. (My story is rather bland) I had just started a tune that ran 2:37 and the receptionist came down the hall and said “Thought you would like to know it’s starting to rain.” My convertible top was down! Oops…out the door, pull off the boot, pull up the top and snap it, run back and…the song is still playing! Not for long though. Got in the room just in time.
Not life or death but having a top down in the rain is a lot worse than leaving window down. (Of course today, the wealthy can have a rain sensor start the top mechanism…but what radio guy could afford that?)
Thanks for sharing!
To Bill Hatch:
I interned at Detroits WWWW when it still rocked. One of the morning DJ’s (who went on to TV fame in Chicago and beyond) was in the can during a newscast which ran unexpectedly short that hour.
I was typing in an open office across the hall from the studio when I hear footsteps pounding down the hall and I must have had a confused/horrified look on my face because when he saw me as he ran by morning DJ shouted “never take a (explitive) during a newscast kid!”
A thought struck me like a bullet between the eyes… that was my first piece of advise from a real radio professional! And I’m proud to say I have not forgotten it to this day.