My life as a DJ commenced with my first KLON broadcast on Sept. 6, 1981. As there was doubtless complete confidence in my abilities, KLON Program Director Ken Borgers was on hand in case I blanked out, threw up or wigged out on-air as could happen.
Newly moved in at the CSULB campus, KLON was tucked away in a 1950s building next to the public restrooms to the north, but we also had our own potty, very handy when on-air for three hours a day.
For my first broadcast, I played a longer version of my demo tape and I guess the reaction was pretty much to the good… meaning the phones began ringing off the hook – that’s when phones had hooks and were connected to walls, a quaint arrangement that was outlawed for being a a mobility hazard by a communications act several years ago… just kidding about that part.
Borgers handled calls. I had replaced a polka music show, a real centerpiece of the old KLON, which drew from polka listeners for a lot of their support, complete with polka events at the Queen Mary. Ski Demski must’ve been listening and must’ve dropped his kishka (later on, we became friends and he gave me miles of that delicious sausage) when he heard actual R&B, blues and vocal group harmony – Frankie Lymon instead of Frankie Yankovic and Little Walter instead of Lil Wally. Demski was so moved by this music, Borgers told me after the end of my first shift, that Ski called in several bomb threats. Oh that wacky Ski.
For those readers who don’t know the Legend Of Ski, he was probably Long Beach’s best-known eccentric until his death in 2002, a role that hasn’t been properly filled since. Thomas “Ski” Demski was a thoroughly tattooed, colorful local character and perpetual candidate for mayor.
Ski was best know for “Superflag” and his super 120 ft. flag pole at his Fourth and Lime home that caused a major flap at city hall when neighbors complained about the noise it made… the very same flag pole in which his ashes reportedly rest. Superflag was recorded in the 1997 Guinness Book of Records as the “Largest Flag in the World.”
I had no idea of the blowback from KSUL either. In order for KLON to be licensed to the campus (actually to the CSULB Foundation, which holds the license to this day), KSUL had to die. Seems that KSUL was a low power on-campus non-com at 90.1 FM that was a training ground for student broadcasters and produced several of the few greats and near greats still on the air in this era of severe talent cutbacks in commercial and even non-com radio. Safe to say, those who’d worked at KSUL hated KLON and its arrival. For more on KSUL, its history and graduates, go to KSUL.org.
To my knowledge, only Dave Burchette – he now works weekends at KRTH as Dave Randall – came over from the greatly lamented KSUL, which played the music college students dug at the time – metal, more metal and Duran Duran, gotta figure.
In fact, the campus’s student-run Union ran a headline that I can’t quote in its entirety in this story, but looked something like: “F*CK KLON.” I still have that paper.
But back to day #1, the reaction was most positive, because the kind of R&B I was playing hadn’t bee heard on-air in L.A. for decades. Later came a variety of shows with the same kind of programming, Johnny Otis on KPFK and my old friend, Bill Gardner whom I’d lobbied KPCC to put on-air… he’s still doing his thing on KPFK (90.7), now moved to Friday nights… but he abhors the obscure, preferring to play the hits of his youth… he just reached 107 years-of-age (just kidding part 2… at least there’s a 7 in his age) and except for KRTH, he’s now the only game in town and, except for a few months, KRTH was never truly in the game.
At that time, KRLA (1110) and KRTH were playing run-of-the-mill oldies, but KRTH DJ Brian Beirne was allowed to play rare R&B oldies on his Friday night show. He’s retired and so are the rare R&B oldies, replaced by about 300 songs – about the number found in a well-stocked juke – played endlessly at 101.1 and because of that, is the third most popular station in L.A.
Then some of L.A’s R&B stalwarts got in touch… they’d heard about what I’d been doing; that I was talking about them… and they wanted to meet me and do something about it.