"I'd take requests on the telephone. I'm on a wavelength far from home." - Wall of Voodoo, "Mexican Radio."
I'm writing this piece almost two months later than I had planned. Part of it was because of a lack of time; part of it was a lack of what I perceived as meaningful experience. I'd initially wanted to write this about ten or eleven weeks after my move to LaSalle-Peru, similar to how I used to pen my "college blogs" after each trimester. To be honest, I probably could've written a long-winded manifesto on my first two days living by myself. But that sort of weepy, self-indulgent prose is of little interest to my notebook and my computer, let alone to all you loyal readers.
The past four months have been a transitional period to say the least. I'm happy to say the toughest days were frontloaded into what amounted to a lengthy, homesick July. I look back on the early half of the summer and realize how quickly everything moved. When I got the call from Studstill Media and subsequently accepted their job offer in the middle of May, I still had three and a half weeks of college left. I had graduation rehearsal, commencement, my dinner party, the end of my show, "Sleepless with Steve," my birthday, and the actual move all stacked on top of one another with one date in mind: July 1st, when I'd begin my professional career as an on-air radio personality.
The actual move was smooth once I found an apartment. I have my mother to thank for helping me scout potential pads while I was still in college. She found the place where I'm living now: a comfortable, two-room apartment, a little larger than a studio, that perfectly suits me and my copious DVDs, books, clothes, and other accommodations. I signed the lease on a Tuesday night in June, hours before my "Sleepless with Steve" show at midnight. The coordinating and moving all took place within weeks of graduation as well, finally concluding on the 30th of June.
The first two days were rough, as I'm sure they are for most who leave their parents' abode. I'd be lying if I said I had more thoughts of succeeding than not. I spent the better part of both days watching TV, eating very little, fighting back tears, and just wondering at the end of the day if I made the right decision to leave everything I ever knew behind. It was me, my rocking chair, my air mattress, my portable air conditioner, and two TV channels thanks to a wall antenna I bought. It was Bukowski-esque in its simplicity. Isolation is the only gift, after all.
But on with work. I'm proud to say I now host two radio shows, both on weekdays: a midday program on WGLC 100.1FM from 10am-3pm and then an afternoon show on WALS 102.1FM (WALLS 102). My days are filled with planning for my shows, doing hourly weather updates, producing commercials, and honing my creativity on many platforms. In many ways, this is the "dream job," not only for myself, but for other hungry broadcasters right out of college. Most grads are lucky to land a gig as a promotions assistant or an internship at a large station. The fact that someone like me, who made a splash in radio rather late in my academic career, graduated college with a gig this great and fruitful is as much a blessing and a small miracle as it is a testament to my hard work. I'm the rare 22-year-old who truly loves his job. Every college graduate should be so lucky.
In the past several years, I've gotten very much into football, largely from a quarterback perspective. I can probably name you nearly every quarterback on a given NFL team right now. With that being said, I think of radio, or really any job, as adapting to a new system. In football, you have a barrage of cutely named systems/schemes that work for certain organizations and also help curb any sameness (IE: few NFL teams look exactly the same when they get into formation). The "system" employed at my current stations is vastly different from that of the free-form WONC that served as my training ground, something not entirely unexpected. The key to success is adapting accordingly, and I pride myself on doing my best to do just that on a daily basis.
With that comes being cognizant of how young and inexperienced I am. I've heard the peak years for a broadcaster, so to speak, are between the age of 40 and 65, and that might as well be another century away in my eyes. As far as I know, this could be the end of the line for me for one reason or another, as jobs are increasingly harder to come by and competition intensifies. I've got a long way to go before I can even think about that. Like I said in my previous piece in lieu of graduation: with a great job, a tremendous amount of opportunity ahead of me, and two shows at the moment, I've never been more focused on the present than I have been now.
Lastly, it cannot be overstated just how many people in my life made this such a significant, special transitional period. From my parents to my grandparents, my loyal squad to my exceptional coworkers, to college friends who made the long, flat trek out to see me over the last few months. You made a challenging process that much more fun and bearable even on the worst days. You know who you are. I text and call you on a regular basis.
I don't claim this experience to be unique to my situation. Thousands of young people leave their homes every day, some even forced out. I reminded myself there was a way out, but I'd be damned if I didn't give it my all out here before I sought it. Four months later, there's only good nights.
KEY SONGS OF THE LAST FOUR MONTHS:
Comments
Post a Comment