SLO LIFE Magazine Feb/Mar 2019

supposed to debut on January 6, 1992, but we had an ice storm the night
before and it knocked down the broadcast antenna. I tried not to take it as
a bad omen. It was the next day, January 7th—27 years ago now—that I
did my first show. Rick Martel, the KSBY anchor that I had impersonated
for the comedy routine I talked about earlier, was my first guest. It was
actually a pretty decent show. I was so nervous, but did okay. The very next
day, I came back in and just stunk it up. The second show was awful. I had
a woman on who was a clown, followed by some people who talked about
the estuary. It was so bad. But, it was a good lesson because to this day, my
show is as good as anything in the country or it’s so bad that even I’m not
listening to it. Those early experiences allowed me to find my voice, learn
where we can shift gears, and carry the program when necessary.
And, the most memorable day in the broadcast booth? That would be
the day that Alex Madonna died, probably 13 or 14 years ago now. It was
a Thursday. I canceled everything. So, I called this woman up who I had
scheduled to have on as a guest, and I said, “I’m sorry, but I need to cancel
you today because the guy that built the Madonna Inn, Alex Madonna,
just passed away, and we’re going to talk about that instead.” And she
says, “Well, that’s not going to take up the whole four hours, is it?” I said,
“You know what, I think it is.” Sure enough, I spent about 20 minutes
talking about him and what he meant to me, and then I just sat there for
four hours, and I took phone calls. And at 4:19 or 4:20, Phyllis Madonna,
Alex’s wife, calls in. It was probably my best moment of radio, because
what I did was absolutely nothing. I just kind of sat back and I let her talk,
and she was grieving, and she was anguished, and it was raw, and she was
crying, but she was listening to all the tributes that people were giving.
It was incredibly moving. I kept her on until the hard news break at the
bottom of the hour, and I thanked her, and left it at that. That’s the moment.
What have you learned about yourself along the way? I’ve learned that
I’m doing the job I was meant to do. This is the job I was meant to do. I
was meant to be a radio host. I think I’m never going to win the Peabody
Award or be an NPR correspondent, but I think for local radio, which is
the mission of, to me, radio, to be local, that’s why the FCC set up radio
stations, we’re supposed to serve the community. It’s a real honor for me
to do this and to keep local radio alive. And, at the same time, I think I do
okay with it, and that’s a gift. Not many people get to do the job they were
meant to do.
How would you describe what you do on air? I’m not the community
cheerleader. I won’t go out and do a remote [broadcast] from the blood
bank. I don’t like doing those. That’s not me. I like being in my studio
with my microphone. I’m the watchdog. The show is what matters. My
job is to kind of help keep an eye on things and to give a voice to people.
H.L. Mencken said, “The role of the media is to afflict the comfortable >>
46 | SLO LIFE MAGAZINE | FEB/MAR 2019