Independent Thinker

My broadcasting career started in January of 1990.

As previously covered in this space, it was WVBR-FM in Ithaca, New York, a commercial radio station staffed by Cornell students. I started as a trainee and graduated as Sports Director. Four years of early mornings and late nights (followed by more early mornings), covering hockey and basketball and local semipro baseball and whatever else we could drum up. It was hands-on, learn as you go, real-world education in the business of sports media, and I loved every minute of it.

During that span, on summer break after my sophomore year, I went home to Orlando and landed an internship at a local Adult Contemporary FM station. The general manager was a friend of my parents. 

The environs there could not have been more different from WVBR. The Orlando station was located on one of the top floors of a sleek downtown skyscraper with spectacular views. I worked the morning drive shift, 6am to 10am, Monday through Friday. The host’s name was Justin Taylor, and he’s still in the business. My job was to keep the studio orderly and help Justin keep track of his promo copy and the commercial traffic, which at the time involved a “cart machine,” and if you know what that is, we can be friends.

I think I got paid 10 bucks an hour, and I’m pretty sure it was under the table, but: that was my first paying job in broadcasting. I was 20 years old.

My last day of full-time employment at Golf Channel / NBC was April 29, which happened to be my fifty-first birthday. It was a long-planned separation that could be considered a delayed aftershock from the channel’s move to Connecticut. I had plenty of advance notice — in fact, I started working on this website in anticipation of the transition. The understanding is that I can continue working for GC in the future, on a freelance basis.

I was a Golf Channel employee for 12 years, the longest I have ever worked in one place. That’s one quarter of my life. The bulk of that time was spent on the road, in airports, in television compounds, and in hotels, but there was structure. There was a home office. There were staff meetings. People in hallways who became friends. Things one takes for granted when working for a large corporation. All of that has changed.

Now, I’m a freelancer. An independent contractor. It’s a transition that comes at an odd time: post-pandemic, empty nest. My wife works full-time and our two kids are away at school. The days are very quiet.

Many well-meaning friends and family members have told me that this could be a glorious period of renewal. Now is the time to write my novel, they say. Learn to play an instrument. Take flying lessons. That inspiration hasn’t hit just yet.

The uncertainty can be paralyzing. I’ve spent a lot of time looking up old friends and former colleagues. I write, even if those thoughts never go public. Quiet days.

There are a lot of lines in the water right now. Some appear more promising than others. I’m very grateful to those who respond to emails and return phone calls, even if the answer is “no.” I wish more people understood how meaningful that is. It’s a topic for another blog: how it’s become an accepted practice in business to simply not acknowledge an email, phone call, or text message. But never mind that.

Time passes, no matter what. Today becomes tomorrow, and then next week, and then next month. I’m sure that I’ll be busy again, but it won’t be on my schedule. So much is out of my control. That’s probably the most striking aspect of this transition. I can do the work, make the calls, perform the research, but ultimately it’s someone else’s call. That’s not news — for years, when asked to speak to aspiring broadcasters, I have repeated that mantra, so much so that it’s become part of my stock speech: a broadcaster’s career depends heavily on the opinions of a very small group of decision-makers. Announcers cannot produce data sets or sales figures to prove that they are more valuable than the next guy. It’s a purely subjective business, and always has been. All it takes is one angel in a corner office who looks at your work and says, “yes.” 

Getting to “yes” is the hard part.