The Interview

"Hello! I'm Scott and I'm applying for the position of Morning Host for KSUN-FM. This radio station needs me," he announced with a wry smile. Although he had never worked at a radio station before, he was confident that he had a flair for the work.

The General Manager--Cliff Stone and the Program Director-- Jim Watts were not particularly impressed, but agreed to hear him out. Only one other person had shown up for an interview. He called himself "The Mouth," but the only thing that came out of his mouth was arrogant bullshit.

Milt "the mouth" had walked into Cliff's private office without knocking and asked, "When do I start and how much does this job pay?" He wanted to know if someone could bring him a cup of coffee. "After all, I'm the one who is going to save this station," he said, looking straight at Cliff.

With a grin on his face, Cliff approached, put his arm around Milt's shoulders, walked him to the door, pointed to the exit and said, "That's where you can get a cup of coffee for only a buck and a half" and then slammed the door behind him. That was the first time Jim had seen Cliff smile in months.

Amazed at how poorly the interview went, Milt passed Scott outside of the studio entrance, gave him a scowl and said, "You don't stand a chance with this guy. Turn around and leave now."

Inside, Cliff spoke with Jim and made a few unkind comments about Milt's interviewing skills, then went back to his office to make a call. Since Cliff was busy, Scott spent some time with Rusty Holt, the engineer and an old timer at the station. He got a quick introduction to some of the basics and bravely said he was ready to try a dry run.

Rusty could see that Scott was nervous, handed him a cup of water, told him to take his time and suggested that they walk through everything again. Despite spilling some water onto his notes, Scott said he was ready. It can't be that hard, he thought to himself.

As Cliff finished his call and began to listen to the audio, Rusty offered a few final words of advice. "Take a deep breath, concentrate on the first sentence and listen for my instructions. Good luck!"

With the microphone directly in front of him and his earphones hanging from his head, Scott was ready to give it a try. He pretended to interview the editor of the campus newspaper Jennifer McGraw. "Jen, what does the paper cover?" He answered for her. "We cover everything that happens on campus - Students, Faculty, Administration, Greek Life, Clubs and Sports," she said. "Is that all?" Scott asked. "Pretty much," Jennifer replied (Scott speaking for her of course.). "What about student employment issues, drugs, alcohol and sex on campus?" He intended to insert a bit of humor here but lost his place. Scott started laughing at himself. Cliff didn't like that. Rusty tried to help and spoke to Scott in his earphones, but Scott took off the earphones and ignored the instructions. Rusty cut to a commercial but Scott even interrupted the commercial and tried to speak over it. He thought that was funny too.

Neither Cliff nor Jim was happy. The audition ended with Cliff signaling Scott to 'come here' with his index finger, though he probably wished he could have used a different finger.

Things can only get better, Scott thought. However, Cliff thought differently. As he left the booth, all Scott could hear was Cliff's loud voice saying, "That's it. We've heard enough."

As Jim began to usher Scott toward the door, he heard Rusty say, "Sorry kid!" Sorry was not the word Scott wanted to hear. He wanted that job but was out on the street so quickly; he didn't even realize that he was still holding the empty cup.

Out Of The Dumps

Nothing worked out for Scott that day. While peddling his bike back across campus after the interview, he almost ran into a group of students and fell off his bike trying to avoid them. With his mind churning, Scott was not focused on his bleeding knee or the route he took. He didn't even remember how he got back to the dorm. Cliff's words were repeating in his head, "That's it. We've heard enough."

Scott wasn't used to losing out. It has always been difficult for Scott to accept the fact that he may not have been good enough. For about ten minutes, Scott just sat on his unmade bed with thoughts swirling around in his head. He couldn't move. Luckily the phone rang and it was Shirley. From his voice, she knew right away that the interview didn't go well. She rarely heard him sound so down in the dumps.

Shirley was the only person Scott openly trusted with his emotions. She wished that she could be there to lie down with him and hold him close so that he could feel her. Since they attended colleges a few hours apart, she had to use the magic words that would get through to Scott, "I want to be with you. Let's have sex this weekend." Of course it worked! He even smiled a bit when he remembered that old line, "'Sex' is not the answer, it is the question. Yes, is the answer."

Scott was thankful that Shirley was both obvious and generous with every form of affection. "It's been the absolute worst day and I really wish you were here. The weekend can't come soon enough," he told her.

"I'll be right here waiting," she said. "I'll pack a few sandwiches and we can walk around the lake. You know, my favorite place, where we can be alone, down by that old black walnut tree. We'll lay back on a blanket, look up at the sky, enjoy the warmth of the sun, smell the wildflowers and we'll hold each other so close that our bodies melt into each other, just like always. I love that place. I love you." She believed in him and made it easy for Scott to believe in himself.

Shirley always gave Scott a soft place to land when things went wrong. In fact, she was perfect for him, giving, gentle and loving most of the time, while holding her ground and requiring him to bend on other occasions. "If you really want this job, you can't give up. Go after it," Shirley said as she dispensed her wisdom. Shirley is right, Scott thought as they pretended to kiss goodbye.

Scott believed that most things happen for a reason. He realized that he didn't take the time to get prepared for the interview. He had tried to wing it and that didn't work. Now it was time for him to get back in the game. How does someone become a radio personality? He needed a plan. First, he knew that the right person would have the desire, intelligence, personality, wit and flexibility to meet all of the job requirements. He had those. Second, improved proficiency with the equipment and knowledge of the station's operating procedures are necessary. Third, Scott would begin looking for a sidekick, someone he could banter with, someone who would challenge him. Fourth, Scott would have to pay close attention to the issues that students were facing and were of concern. He needed topics that would interest most students. Fifth, he needed to get some practice using the equipment and developing and perfecting his on-air persona.

Scott thought about some of the on-air sports personalities he respected. Boomer Esiason for football, Keith Hernandez and Ron Darling for baseball and Craig Carton and Chris Russo for their brands of humor. In the early years, they were inexperienced broadcasters too. Scott trusted Boomer, Keith and Ron and knew he could rely on the information they provided. These well-known broadcasters tried to be unbiased and accurate in their observations, assessments and facts. Because they were athletes first, they knew the games well but had to learn the broadcasting equipment and the on-air procedures before they could inform and entertain their audience. He realized that it didn't happen overnight. Scott wanted to be like them.

Craig Carten and Chris "Mad Dog" Russo loved the world of sports, studied the players, the history and statistics. Scott found them highly knowledgeable, opinionated, funny, excitable and sometimes just plain outrageous. He very much appreciated their humorous styles.

Within minutes, Scott was on his laptop searching the internet for information and videos about radio broadcast equipment and station operation. Then he called Rusty Holt and asked for some private training time, but Rusty didn't jump at the request.

"Rusty, this is Scott Wilde. I need your help." "How can I assist you?" Rusty asked. "I want another chance at winning that job on the morning show," Scott said. "I like you kid, but I don't think there is any chance of that happening. Cliff was not happy with anything you did during the interview," Rusty said. "I know, but I've been working on that," said Scott. "Yeah, what exactly does that mean?" Rusty asked.

"I've been doing research on how the professionals handle their shows (Videos, Books and Tapes) and I have a plan to improve my performance," Scott told Rusty. "OK, tell me about your plan," Rusty said. He was skeptical but was willing to listen, so Scott set about explaining the plan.

Scott went on, "I want you to know how much I want this job. I've spent over thirty hours listening to Boomer Esiason and looking at old ball games with Keith Hernandez, your favorite player." "How did you know that Keith was my favorite player?" Rusty asked excitedly. "I saw the autographed picture hanging on the wall in the engineer's booth," Scott said.

"I would like to learn how to operate the electronic equipment like a pro." "You want me to give you some pointers, even though Cliff has already rejected you?" Rusty was shaking his head. "Yes," Scott replied immediately. "I can do this and will be good at it. All I need is a little traction, some savvy guidance, a bit of practice and another chance," Scott pleaded.

"I've identified a couple of topics that will interest our listeners and have been practicing a script, some pertinent questions and a few one liners. Furthermore, I've been talking with students and I'm certain I can find someone who will make a great partner on the show, someone who will put forth another viewpoint and put me in my place sometimes," he said.

Scott listened to Rusty's voice and believed that there was a glimmer of hope, so he continued with his argument. "I've always dreamed of becoming a broadcaster on a sports show," he offered. "I know that I approached the interview all wrong. That was a mistake. I can do better if you give me another chance."

Although Rusty liked Scott, it took a fair amount of persuasion (mostly begging at this point) before Rusty agreed to meet him at the studio. Rusty was happy to see that Scott was at the studio promptly at the agreed upon time, although he questioned his own sanity for being there.

Rusty and Scott spent a few nights going over the procedures used by the station. Scott took the helm and practiced using the equipment. Although the electronics seemed a bit strange at first, Scott began to manipulate and practice using the various switches, the microphone, earphones and phone, as he received instructions in his ear from Rusty. It was new. It was exciting. It was fun. Rusty was beginning to think that he hadn't wasted his time.

Scott knew that Rusty's help was an imposition. He tried to make up for it by bringing food (Hot Dogs, Burgers or Sandwiches) to each session. As they ate, they sat around talking and gradually became friends. However, they were both there for a reason and Rusty kept Scott on the straight and narrow. He was not going to waste his time with someone who had little personality or potential.

For the next two weeks, several nights a week, Scott worked with Rusty. Over time, he got better and better. One night he announced "This is "Wild Man Scotty" your weekday morning host on WSUN-FM the radio station that gives students a reason to get up and get going." Rusty gave him a thumbs up through the glass of the engineering booth. Scott was ready, or so he thought.

The next day Scott headed back to the studio and asked to speak with Cliff. (He had all he could do to avoid asking for 'Stoney,' the name he couldn't get out of his head.) Although Cliff had little interest in seeing Scott, he eventually relented and spoke with him and then gave him another brief trial. Unfortunately, Scott showed his nervousness by quickly stepping on a cue and then forgot some of his recent training with Rusty. After a short conversation, Cliff sent Scott home again. With that rejection, Scott was certain that this was strike three.

Then, completely unexpectedly, Scott received a phone call from Jim offering him the job. Scott didn't ask how or why, he just said "yes." Turns out, Rusty had gone to bat for Scott. Of course, the real reason he was offered the job is because Cliff and Jim had no other candidates and had no other choice.

What a terrible way to start a new job, Scott thought to himself. He knew that he had a real upward battle on his hands. Even with all that, he couldn't help but be elated.

The next day Rusty called Scott to congratulate him. He also offered a tip that confirmed Scott's thinking. Rusty said, "If you pay attention to the successful on-air shows, most have something in common. Nearly every one of them has two hosts. That format gives them differing viewpoints, more flexibility and many more opportunities for humor."

Scott would never forget what Rusty had done for him.

Scott

My name is Doug, Scott Wilde's longtime classmate, friend and now a fellow college student. Since I know Scott well, it may be helpful if I tell you a little bit more about him. This story will give you some insight into his never-ending antics and give me a chance to poke a little fun at him.

Since his girlfriend often took night classes at her local college while she worked during the day, Scott was concerned about her safety as she walked home after a night class. One weekend Scott saw something in the Self-Defense Section of a Sporting Goods Store that sparked his interest and seemed to satisfy his concerns. He planned to surprise Shirley the next time he was home.

Scott came across a 50,000-volt stun gun. He was told that the effects of that device would be short-lived, but would allow adequate time for someone to retreat to safety. Scott thought it was cool.

Long story short, Scott bought the stun gun and took it home. He loaded two AAA batteries into the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing happened! Scott was disappointed.

Later he learned that when he pushed the button and pressed the device against a metal surface at the same time, he would get an arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome, he thought! Of course, Scott has yet to explain to Shirley how that burn spot got on the front of her microwave.

Okay, so Scott was home all alone with this new toy thinking to himself that the impact couldn't be all that bad with only two tiny triple-A batteries. As he sat in his armchair reading the directions, his cat Max was looking on intently (trusting little soul). Scott was thinking that he really needed to try this thing out on a living creature.

Scott had to admit that he thought about zapping the cat (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. However, if he was going to give this thing to Shirley to protect herself from a mugger, he did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.

So, there he sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with his sunglasses perched on the top of his head, directions in one hand, stun gun in the other. A one-second shock was supposed to disorient an assailant. A two-second jolt would cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control. Scott thought that a three-second electric shock would probably make an assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Anything longer than three seconds would likely be wasting the batteries.

All the while Scott was looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3 inches wide; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to himself, "no possible way!"

What happened next is almost beyond description. Scott was sitting there alongside Max who was looking on and probably thinking, "Don't do it dipshit." Reasoning that a one-second jolt from this little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad, Scott decided to give himself a one-second shock just for the heck of it. He touched the prongs to his naked thigh and pushed the button.

He screamed, "Holy mother of god! What the hell!"

Scott could barely recall waking up on the floor in the fetal position. Tears were running down his cheeks. His body was soaking wet with his nipples on fire, balls nowhere to be found. He had tingling in his legs and his left arm was tucked oddly under his body.

The cat was meowing, growling and making a hissing sound never heard before, all while making an attempt to avoid getting slammed by Scott's body flopping all over the living room.

"Son-of-a-bitch, that hurt like hell," Scott's voice trembling.