The Perils of Moving Stations


WUOG is back on air now, broadcasting from Tate Center. Normally, I’d be “YAY! My radio’s back!” Right now, though, I’m a little worried.

You see, all of our crap is in boxes piled from floor to ceiling. The cds, the photos, some gold records that I was not aware of…

Then we get the email telling all deejays that we’re not to touch the boxes. The executives who were in charge must come and put the records away. Oh wait. They can’t. We haven’t gotten the record shelves yet. So all that beautiful vinyl will just have to sit there until we do. (insert long expletive laden rant here.)

So that leaves us djs to use our own collections to fill out our shifts. For me, doing the local show is easy. Just plug in the ipod and pick two hours from the over 8 days worth of Athens music I have on there. Someone who’s doing the, oh say, 40’s and 50’s show may not be so lucky.

Add into this equation the more than likely possibility of something breaking, becoming missing, or otherwise dead to me and have we got ourselves a party.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

/rant

Anyway, last night was basically training all over again. I went ahead and made a playlist on the iPod and just left it at that while I messed around the new place. I was pretty darn pleased with how well my playlist worked. Perfect length, a decent variety, and no sudden transitions from loud to soft. I even kinda grouped them according to kind.

My pleasure, however, was short lived. As I was sliding my chair across the room to grab the phone, my headphone cord got caught in the chair, switched off the board, and dragged me by the neck to the ground. After my life finished passing in front of my eyes, I realized two things. 1) Death by strangulation = not good and 2) I’m really not digging the new layout.

Here’s a good example. Drummers like to have everything in their kit within arm’s length because if it’s not, they miss a beat. Same with radio djs. Our current situation has our mic bolted to the wall and our record player and computer a good 2.5 arm lengths away. Meaning that you will hear a pause in between me speaking and the music. DEAD AIR.

Don’t get me wrong. I still have high hopes for the new place. Once we get everything unpacked and working, maybe we could start decorating a bit more and make it feel like home. I know just where to put that gold record…

blueshades

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