Putting The Weatherman To Sleep....But Not Jim Ed Brown!

In my last blog post, I spoke of my relationship with Monica Reyes, a woman who is just like a sister to me. Another friendship that I have enjoyed with someone of the fairer sex is someone I have known even longer – Marcia Campbell. We rode the same school bus together a few years back, and she went onto to become a key part of the Melvin Sloan Dancers, the square dance troupe that has been a part of The Grand Ole Opry for years. It was my friendship with Marcia that led to a year of my life which I will never forget, one that I will be forever indebted to her for the opportunity she afforded me.

Before that, there was the summer of 1995. I had just earned the title of PD at WDKN, and was looking for a way to put my mark on the station. Out of the blue, Marcia calls me one day. It seems that she and Keith Bilbrey were having a conversation about the possibility of her doing a radio show. Keith knew that I was on the air at Dickson, and suggested she give me a call. She was interested in putting together a weekly bluegrass show. I knew that management of the station wasn’t going to pay someone to do it, but she offered her services for free – just for the exposure. So, sometime around July of 1995, “The Mule Skinner Bluegrass Show” went on the air on Thursday afternoons from 1-3pm. Marcia didn’t do anything small – then or now. One of her first guests on the air was “The Father of Bluegrass Music,” Bill Monroe. I still remember putting the phone call through. Marcia honed her skills -which she came by honest – very quickly. Before too much longer, her talents were recognized by the Interstate Radio Network, and she began working at nights on the syndicated truckers’ channel – broadcast locally by WSM-AM. She continued to do the show in Dickson until the summer of 1998. I continued it for a while – as part of the daily programming, running all-Bluegrass on Monday mornings under the guise “Blue Monday.” WSM had – and has – always been the gold standard for me, as far as radio went. She and I had so many conversations about the Opry and WSM. I began sending airchecks and resumes to the station not too long after high school, but Kyle Cantrell, the PD, never called. (Quite honestly, nobody ever showed me correct protocol on putting together an aircheck – or how to playlist an airshift. So, it would be fair to say that while nobody could have had more passion for WSM Radio than I, I was as green as my daddy’s GMC pickup!)

However, Marcia never forgot.

Fast forward to November 1998. I was coming back from broadcasting a basketball game. I remember the exact place I was – at the curve of Highway 70 by the Bowl-O-Rena. I had the stations’ old cell phone with me and called her to say hello. Marcia said that she had been meaning to call because there was a job opening working weekend nights at the Interstate, and was I interested?

I couldn’t have been more interested than if she asked me if I wanted a date with Faith Hill or Reba McEntire. I literally began training the next week, and my first night on the air was the night that Tennessee won the National Championship. I say that not out of love for the Vols, but WLAC – in the same building as the Interstate was broadcasting the game. Needless to say, there was a lot of excitement in that Clear Channel building.

For the next twelve months, I was honored to be a part of the Interstate Radio Network, “on such great stations around the United States as WWVA in Wheeling, KTNN in Gallup, and WSM in Nashville.” Yeah, the last one was particularly a big deal. Whatever I do in my career, I was on overnights on WSM. Nobody can take that away from me. There were nights where various performers would call in to say hello, truckers from the road, and even a few lonely women. The nighttime tends to heighten the emotion that one feels, and I heard from a lot of people – and I even put one to sleep.

Twice an hour we would feature weather updates from the “IRN Weather Center,” which was….wherever the meteorologist happened to be on a given night. He would do the first couple hours live, and then I would record the last four hours. It was 2:30am, the last segment of the night to be broadcast live. He calls in a couple of minutes early. I put him on hold and proceed to do my newscast. Then,…”And, now in our IRN Weather Center, here’s the weatherman.” Dead silence. Well, not exactly. He had fallen asleep, and you could hear the TV playing in the background. He called in later, and said ‘I don’t know what happened.” LOL. I did. And, I’ve used that same sentence many times over twenty-six years of radio to mask operator error!

I also got to host the weekly countdown, which was cool for me because I got to feature the 1998-99 comeback of Kenny Rogers, and “Single White Female” becoming the breakthrough hit for Chely Wright – someone who I have always had a huge belief in. I played her album cut “Why Do I Still Want You” one morning, and that night on the Opry, Jim Ed Brown asked her to sing “her new song.” That was a cool moment. And, I will forever be the answer to the trivia question “Who was the first announcer on WSM when 1999 became 2000?” For that, and a lot more, I owe to Marcia Campbell. I love you for that, and your never-ending friendship!

Next blog, I will let you in on a little-known fact about me. My 8^th grade teacher once took up a magazine I was reading in class…..and never gave it back. One guess, and it starts with a “B.”

The Number On The Back Of The Phone Book

The other day, I wrote a tribute to Ken Loggains, who I worked with for several years at WDKN, and is one of my influences in terms of being a professional. The next two posts are about family. I have to say that I approach that term a little differently than some do. Growing up in Tennessee, it was basically just my parents, maternal grandmother, and a few cousins. That’s what I was around. My father’s side of the family hails from Illinois, and though I did go up there quite a bit as a child, I haven’t gotten up there as much in my adulthood. That’s neither good or bad, nor an indictment on anyone. I can pick back up long-standing family jokes with my aunts and uncles from the Land of Lincoln like no time has passed. My Aunt Diana has teased me since 1989 about “The Bank of Davenport,” while my Uncle Burt loves Buck and Dwight(!), and my Aunt Gloria? Well, she’s the saint of the family. She is the furtherest from the family tree when it comes to the Dauphin family art form of agitation.

In a lot of ways, family also means your inner circle wherever you’re at. I am blessed to have several different familial units that I consider myself a part of. I don’t have blood siblings. But, I do have many people that fill some of that void. I hate singling anyone out, because you’re going to piss some people off – and I don’t want to do that. However, I do have a brother from another mother – as well as a sister from another mister. Today, I want to tell you about my brother.

It might be hard to understand for today’s generation, but the Yellow Pages phone book used to be a huge deal. With Google and smartphones, it’s not really what it once was – but growing up in the 70s and 80s, it was big. And, the back cover of the phone book would have a spot for you to write down numbers. So, I would get as many phone numbers as I could from my friends at school. You look at a phone book so much back then that you memorized the numbers.

446-3975 was one such number that was written on the back of the Dauphin phone book. All it said was “Ralph.” I didn’t write the number. My father did. Ralph Kimbro was a friend of his that he got to known in the Masonic Lodge. In second grade, I met a fellow student named Randall. We became really good friends, and exchanged phone numbers. His sounded familiar. As it turned out, he was Ralph’s son. I knew his number before I knew him.

In the thirty-six years that have transpired since, there are few people I am closer to than Randall. Our school years included many field trips, loading our lunch sacks with Nerds and Slim Jims, and many trips to each others’ house. His parents became my second set and likewise.

Some of those visits got quite interesting. There was the time that he convinced me he had a oet snake downstairs at his house, and there was a hole in the basement ceiling that he said was thee because his family buried his grandmother there because they couldn’t afford the burial. (Now, I know – and he knows I know – that he was pulling my leg. But, even the last time I was over at the Kimbro house, I had to take a look at the hole where the corner tile was missing….and wonder!)

We also used to prank call Swap and Shop on WDKN. (Boy, did that come back to haunt me) And, over the years, there have been countless trips, vacations, and many Black Friday celebrations. From the time we got our licenses to drive, that day after Thanksgiving has been a sacred one. He moved to Lousiana a few years ago, and we haven’t done it in a while….but I’m always open!

We grew up together, counseled each other through marriage and divorce, and watched our kids grow up. He was one of the first persons I talked to when my Mother passed away – and when his dad passed, I tried to be there the best I could.

I am very blessed to have a lot of friends. But, Randall Kimbro is very special to me. If he tells me something, I take it to the bank. Even to this day, when I feel the walls closing in due to this “tragedy” or another, he’s the first person I call. In all those years, there was only one time I remember getting mad at him – Easter 1984. There was an egg hunt at Burns Elementary and the grand prize was a Michael Jackson poster. He wasn’t a fan, but I was. Randall wins the poster….and gives it to John-Boy Deloach! Wasn’t too happy about that.

I got over it.

Over three decades later, I’m glad to say that bond is as strong as ever, Michael Jackson or no Michael Jackson. In fact, Randall is one of those people that, due to his life and mine taking us in different directions, I may go weeks without talking. Then, we do, and it’s an hour. In fact, I need to pick up the phone tonight. We’re overdue!

Oh, and one more thing….In case you’re reading this…..”Rubber.” Dang. I feel better!

A 'Velvet' Shout-Out!

Over the next few posts, I’m going to write about a few things that have made an impact on me. Some are places, foods, trips, songs, and people. In my last blog, I talked about my days on the air at WDKN. I want to go a little deeper on that, and detail my feelings about someone who has made a huge impact on my life and career over the years. I have referred to him over the years as the “B.J. to my Hawkeye,” because in a lot of ways, our friendship is comparable to the two characters that kept the 4077^th going in M*A*S*H.

His name is Ken Loggains.

Back in the summer of 1996, I was told that the station had hired a new announcer, and it was my job to train him. Not too long after, he dropped by and we began to converse. Some of the topics included music…..but also the reigning Super Bowl champs, the Dallas Cowboys, and the TV show Dallas.

Yes, at that point, I knew I had a friend for life!

We worked together for the next eleven years, and I’ve got to say than even though I was technically the PD, I learned so much from Ken. He is very down-to-earth, but also believes in just letting your work tell your story. I don’t know if I follow in that path or not. I tend to like the attention a little bit. But, you couldn’t help but be better from being around him. I consider him the utmost professional. From 1996 until 2007, we spent five days a week working together, and many nights driving to and from basketball games, where we broadcasted Dickson County sports. There were a lot of smart-ass comments made over the years about life at the station – remember, small-market radio has never made anyone rich. You’ve got to have a sense of humor about what you do, especially since the first two hours of a morning shift included four funeral notice updates, and about twenty phone calls wanting to know what time “Swap and Shop” came on.

Though he left the station in ’07, we remained close over the years, and for the past two or three years, I have been a weekly caller on his morning show in Arkansas, giving an update on the world of Country Music. If you know either of us and heard the segments, you would shake your head. We still float as many inside jokes now as we did then. In the words of Gordon Rhodes, we are proud members of the “CS” club.

I made the M*A*S*H reference, because we had much that type of relationship at WDKN. Nothing was sacred. We approached our jobs with pride, but never let ego get in the way. And, he’s B.J. because the Mike Farrell character is a lot more mature and settled. He’s exactly where one should want to be in life, and I’m like that leaf at the beginning of Forrest Gump – still looking for a place to land.

Those differences aside, I’ve got to say that I am a better broadcaster for knowing Ken Loggains…..but also a much better person. Donnie Craig once dubbed him as “Velvet Vocal Chords,” and that applies to the way he approaches his craft…and his life.

If you’re reading this thinking that this post has a tragic ending, don’t worry. It doesn’t. I just write it because I felt it, and it needed to be said! Thank you, my friend, for the lessons!