A Life Spent Listening

Like Studs Terkel, music has had a profound effect on my life. Studs once mused that when he was a child, he could remember when his father brought on his mother's scorn for spending two dollars on a wax 12 inch record. Terkel says that his father waved off her protests simply with the artist's name as an explanation. "Caruso."

Like Studs, I was introduced to music by my Dad. But my father had a different approach than Terkel's. And luckily for him, my mother's blessing.

After working a number of jobs, some of which sound incredibly painful to me, he had a flash of inspiration one night. While flipping through a magazine he saw a call from the CRTC for applications for a radio station in Barrie, Ontario. Having spent much of his childhood around the Barrie region, he knew one thing about Barrie. It was dull. So, why not give it something to celebrate? His solution was easy to come by, give the people of Barrie something to listen to that they hadn't had before. Rock and Roll.

So in 1987 he flipped the switch and Barrie was given Rock 95.7 FM. I often liken that moment to the Velvet Underground's song "Rock and Roll" where a young woman's life is literally transformed from monotony when she moves to New York and hears the title's music on the radio. While Barrie is nothing like NYC, it was still something of an adventure. A local group once protested that Rock 95 would be blasting "godless whorehouse music" over the airwaves. That was pretty exciting for my parents.

But while they were beginning their adventure as entrepreneurs in a shaky economy, I was beginning my education in music.

I was just a little guy at the time, but I remember the first days of the station. As time went on, I spent more and more time wandering the halls of Rock 95. Listening in on conversations I probably shouldn't have and learning words I would not be allowed to say out loud for years to come. All that time, I have to say that my favorite thing was to watching the disc jockeys. Their world was magical to me. They got to say what they wanted and play music for everyone to hear.

As the years went on I spent as much time as I could at my dad's "office." As one can imagine, that sort of upbringing can warp a kid. I like to think it was for the better. I'll tell you why. While parents were upset with bands like KISS because of their satanic undertones, I was encouraged to listen to their music. Same goes for all the other drug induced, alcohol inspired, rabble rousing music that meant so much to generations before me.

Now all grown up, music means more to me than ever. I admit that at times it can border on obsessive behavior, but you don't see anyone wag their finger at anyone clamoring to get to an art exhibition. On this blog (of which I admit I am extremely late to start) you will likely find me expressing my interest in my one true love. Just don't expect it to be all joy, because if you've turned on a radio lately I'm sure you've heard a lot of the crap that's out there.   

I'll try my best to speak to the positive notes. The ups rather than the downs. And for the most part, I'll try to stay off of here after a couple of drinks. So far on that last pledge, I need much to be desired. So I'll work on it.