Tuesday, November 28, 2006
A Peek Behind the Scenes
Lock-down Mode, BizRadio Network Studios—We are hermetically-sealed in our studios this morning, doors closed tightly against any noise that might escape as we conduct our broadcast day at the BizRadio Network complex and deli. What we do that you hear on the air is magic—it’s theatre of the mind. How we do it, behind the scenes, is somewhat of a mystery to many, and at times a miracle to us.
We’re renting the studios from which we originate The Brent Clanton Morning Show from a company that sells airtime to the highest bidder. We bought the rights for three years, but must rely upon the ownership of the facility for certain creature comforts, like air conditioning, electricity, water, etc. And we operate at the somewhat whimsical pleasure of the manager in charge of this facility. Some things he’s done well; in other areas some ill-will has been created.
Which is why we’re now operating behind closed doors.
Radio is by definition a noisy prospect.
The phrase, “if it’s too loud, you’re too old,” has a corollary—if you are uncomfortable working around sound, you’re in the wrong business.
There are two radio stations originating from this facility; one of them does not even sign-on until the sun comes up. Meanwhile, my Producer, Buddy Cantu, and I, who have gotten up before the chickens, labor away by ourselves most mornings until just before 6am.
For the most part, the station across the hall is automated, with a few live shows from time to time during the week. The rest of the time, we at The BizRadio Network pretty much have the place to ourselves.
So why are the doors closed?
We might distract others, we are told.
If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it—does it make noise?
That’s a trick question.
When a tree falls, it does make a sound.
However, if there is no one present to interpret that sound—as a thud, a crash…or a noise—the event goes unnoticed.
We’re making sounds in the morning--cueing audio, uploading reports, previewing music, as well as the general chit-chat that is enjoyed between people who’ve worked well together for years. An open studio door is a necessity for maintaining a certain esprit de corps in any teamwork environment.
That’s disruptive when there are others around.
Is it, when no one is around?
So our landlord has imposed a lock-down on the studios of The BizRadio Network players, and Buddy and I must rely on hand signals, swinging lamps, and mental telepathy to communicate.
Even when the Landlord's not here, we’re expected to work with the door closed.
I think the imposition is unreasonable.
Buddy’s thoughts are not suitable for a family publication.
We go along to get along, but we don’t like it.