I Miss My Panic Button

It's been almost a year since I turned my microphone off and left open-line radio. And I've missed it, but mostly for reasons that may surprise you.

Yes, I miss the morning editorial and the public reaction to it. I miss the politicians though they were thoroughly briefed by their handlers and knew how to dissemble, obfuscate and run out the clock. I also miss the immediacy that comes with live political programming. I very much miss Shiral Tobin who was my producer and co-host during what I think were the best years. I get frustrated as hell not being able to get involved in today's causes, the way I did the Charlottetown Accord, Kemano II and the fish farm debate. Some of my frustration is eased by writing this column and a monthly one for Metro Valley; some is eased by work I do for CBC and for Omni Channel 10; some is softened by my daily comment on my own website, www.rafeonline.com.

On balance, though, I most of all miss doing programs on non-controversial matters.

Blurted confession

For a dozen years or so Peter Luongo and the Langley Ukelele Ensemble were my guests as a warm-up for their annual show. I saw many of these kids grow up and younger ones take their place. I watched James Hill from the time he was a little shaver until he is now the best in the world.

I miss Kathy Ruddick and her weekly fishing report. What was so great about this institution was that people constantly said to me "I don't fish but I wouldn't miss Kathy for the world." For those who don't know, the rest of Kathy is just as beautiful as her voice.

I miss Law Day when a teacher would bring a Grade 6 class into the studio and the kids, all appropriately dressed even though it was radio, would do a mock trial. One year it was Peter Rabbit, another it was Hansel and Gretel. I would act as the "impartial" judge and the audience would be the jury. It was great fun!

On a more sombre note, I miss our Depression Screening Day on which, in concert with the B.C. Branch of the Canadian Mental Health Association, we would invite people to phone, anonymously, to a care giver who would try to get them on the right track. At the same time I would do my radio show on depression and encourage people to phone me and a medical guest on air. I well recall one Depression Screening Day when my guest was Dr. Teresa Hogarth, whose practice was working mostly with mentally ill patients. In answer to a caller, I blurted out that I had been treated for depression for a decade. As I spoke, a voice inside of me was saying, "What the hell are you doing, you dumb bugger?" I'm glad I did. It might have helped someone.

Favourite minds

I miss interviewing experts in foreign affairs such as Andre Gerolymatos, who chairs Hellenic Studies at Simon Fraser University. He has a way of putting international strife in such a way that even I could understand. Andrew Mack at UBC was another wonderful interview on foreign affairs. For the Canadian scene, there was no one like Barbara Yaffe. For the Greater Vancouver goings-on, Charlie Smith, editor of the Georgia Strait, gave the inside stories with plenty of humour in the mix. For U.S. affairs, Ken Gormley, law professor at Duquesne University, gave great insight to the complications that always seem to...perhaps plague is the right word, America.

We did a weekly B.C. political segment and while it was, I think, good for several years, it was not until Erin Airton came on and semi-tamed the untamable David Schreck that the segment became balanced, thorough and often quite funny.

SFU Associate Professor of English Paul Budra was a gem of a regular contributor and in one series made Shakespeare seem to be in the studio with us. Like so many of you, I'm sure, I had had an occasional brush with Shakespeare, but little more. Paul, with wit and knowledge, made us feel like we were near experts on the subject. His knowledge and ability to quote the great Bard was extraordinary. He also did other subjects. I especially remember the series he did on horror writers from Stephen King back to Edgar Allan Poe.

Speaking of Shakespeare, I got to know Christopher Gaze, who brought Bard on the Beach to Vancouver, which has proved to be an enormous success. Christopher would end his interview with me with Henry V's speech prior to the Battle of Agincourt; I daresay it raised the hairs on the backs of all our collective necks. I was prepared to go to war, against anyone, by the time Christopher had finished!

Regular callers

I much enjoyed interviewing authors, and especially remember J.K. Rowling, with whom I met with security similar to that given U.S. presidents. Edward Rutherford, David McCullough and Dick Francis stick in my mind. Indeed, I loved doing the arts, period, with perhaps my favourite interview being Canada's own Oscar Peterson, and the one where I least understood what my guest was saying, Dizzy Gillespie.

But most of all I miss the "open line," whether it was a free-for-all, or calls in response to my editorial or to a guest. It's a bit eerie, but you could sense the mood of the calling audience without even taking a call. Call it voodoo or whatever, but in my case it was true.

Some of the regular callers -- one being the late Alet McLeod (called Hanoi Hanna by my right wingers) -- were very well read and briefed indeed. Mind you, for callers like Gary the Palestinians' friend, their preparation was dovetailed neatly into their own set of prejudices, but their stated views were no less interesting for that. A lot of those who started with me are, of course, gone. What impressed me when I left was the number of young students who were callers and, indeed, as email became all the rage, correspondents.

Bleepers

I'm often asked what was my most memorable moment, and though I recounted this in a book I wrote many years ago, judging by the sales, most of you aren't aware of it.

My console had a kill button that delayed things for six seconds. I was, as with all mechanical things, hopeless with this damned thing. In the moment of panic as the "f" word or something worse happened, I could never remember whether I was supposed to wait six seconds and hit the button or perhaps hit and hold it for six seconds and so on. When the button was required, I choked.

Early in my time at CKNW, I was doing the midnight to 2 a.m. shift and the audience and I were playing sexual trivia where callers would tell us about their most embarrassing sex-related moments. One story I recall was the young couple who, when the girl's parents went to the theatre, went up to their bedroom for a romp, which included blowing up condoms and bashing them around like balloons. It turned out that the parents had the wrong day for the movie...you can guess the rest.

I had told the audience that even though it was the wee hours of the morning, they should show some restraint, which they did, until one young man said "blowjob." This being pre-Bill Clinton I thought I'd best delete this one and, with wavering finger, moved in on the button. The next day the program director called up and congratulated me on a great show. He then asked, "What the hell did you bleep out""

"Why do you ask?" I asked.

"Because what came out was bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep BLOWJOB." (The emphasis his.)

Yes, I miss radio and I always will.

Rafe Mair writes a Monday column for The Tyee. His website is www.rafeonline.com.

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