A Logical Conclusion

Note to those of you dropping by:  Thanks for visiting DeanLand, and welcome in.  I promised to write up this story, first teased yesterday by Rageboy [1] (aka Chris Locke) and then promised to be revealed in full by me [2] a little later in the day.  Well, I had a rough day.  A [3] health [4] issue [5] and too much work got in the way.  I even had to bail out of a conference call I was particularly looking forward to.  Not to worry, I am fine (a little tired).  And after getting more sleep in the afternoon and evening than imaginable, I decided to get up and make good on my word, write it up, post this tale.

Oops.

Can't make good on that promise, at least not fully, just yet.  As schedule allows I'll work on it, write up the whole thing, edit it down to a readable length, and post the entire tale.  But it will take more time than I have tonight, and probably requires a few days to complete.  Hang on, check your RSS reader, or just drop by here again.  I'll post it, it'll just take a little longer to arrive.  The beginning is below, but that might all change and be deleted by the time it is done and ready for final posting. 

Thanks for your patience, and of course, your cards, letters, e-mail and the very rare (on this blog, anyway) posted comment.

---

A Logical Conclusion

From the age of three years old, I knew I wanted to be in Radio [6].   Back then I didn't know it as "the radio business" or "the radio industry."  It was radio, and I wanted to be in it.  When I was 15 I interned at a NYC radio station where I could do everything.  Unlike radio kids in smaller markets where they could get a weekend gig or some sort of starter job, I grew up in New York City, where millions of dollars were spent on radio each year, where unions and professionals ruled the roost.  A kid could not get a Summer gig  at those stations. So I worked every day, five days a week, at Listener Supported WBAI [7], Pacifica Radio [8]'s station in NYC.  What a great job it was and what a wonderful Summer, too.  I went on my first date [9], met and began a relationship with my first girlfriend, went to concerts (many courtesy of WBAI) and got a taste of what life could be like when I grew up.

During the beginning of my Senior year in High School [10] I did the only logical thing: I read that directory of colleges from cover to cover, using bookmarks to denote every page featuring a school with  a Radio department.  I chose a school with a real radio station, a class B FM smack dab in the commercial band, where an undergrad could be in the air, and hold a staff position.